Louis the Well-Beloved (37 page)

‘Good fortune already awaits the lady,’ murmured Richelieu.

Louis caught her arm as she approached. ‘Let us leave here quickly. We sup near this place.’

Richelieu accompanied them to their private room, and then Louis said: ‘Your presence, my friend, is no longer needed.’

Thus it was that Jeanne-Antoinette found that the fortune promised her by the gipsy was at last beginning to materialise.

At dawn she was taken back to the Hôtel de Gesvres in the royal carriage and, after a tender farewell, the King left her and returned to Versailles.

So far, so good, but what now?

She need not have worried. Monsieur Le Bel called later that day to bring her an invitation for Madame d’Etioles to sup in the
petits appartements
at the Palace of Versailles.

Madame Poisson was gleeful. ‘You must keep Charles-Guillaume in the provinces for a while,’ she told Lenormant. ‘He is a very jealous husband. Who knows what indiscretion he might commit if he discovered what was happening!’

So Lenormant and Madame Poisson conspired to further the romance between the King and Jeanne-Antoinette.

Every time he saw Jeanne-Antoinette Louis became a little more enamoured of her. Not since the days of Madame de Mailly had he been so loved for himself.

Jeanne-Antoinette was aware that his friends, and in particular the Duc de Richelieu who did not seem to like her, perhaps because he had not had a part in introducing her to the King, did not pay the respect which she felt was her due. She was not of the Court. She could not appear at any important function because she had never been presented. His friends saw her as one of the King’s light-o’-loves who made the journey to his apartments by way of the back stairs.

If this procedure continued, the King himself would soon be accepting her as such; and that was not part of the destiny of which she had dreamed.

She must be of the Court, accepted as the King’s mistress. Only then could her dream come true.

One day she said to him: ‘Sire, my husband will soon be returning. He is passionately jealous. I cannot come to the supper parties when he returns.’

Louis was astonished. It was not in the nature of husbands, he knew, to debar their wives from administering to the King’s pleasure. But she was astonishing, this little
bourgeoise
. Dainty as she was, and so sharp-witted, occasionally she amused because she was so different from others.

‘You must leave your husband for me,’ he said.

Now he was aware of her dignity. ‘But, Sire, should I give up my home, my standing for . . . for . . . a few weeks of pleasure such as this?’

The King was surprised. She was so humbly in love with him, so utterly adoring, that he could not believe he had heard aright. Then he thought he understood. In her
bourgeois
way she had set her standards, as the Court had at Versailles. To be presented at Court, accepted as the King’s mistress, would give her every reason to leave her husband; but not if she were treated like a woman who might be smuggled up the back stairs for an hour or so.

Louis saw her point. There was an etiquette of every stratum of society and he, who had accepted it at Versailles, must respect it in other walks of life.

He looked at her. She was very pretty indeed; she was very fond of him he believed, and not only because he was the King. He in his turn was delighted with her. She was well educated. He thought of Adelaide and Anne-Henriette, and those girls of his who were still at Fontevrault. This pretty little
bourgeoise
had received a far better education than any of his daughters. She was more clever than they. The only thing she lacked was an understanding of Palace manners, which could be taught her in a week or two. And then . . . what an enchantress she would be! He would defy any woman at Court to compete with her then.

Why should not her education be undertaken? He could do a great deal towards it himself.

A presentation! A worthy title! Then he could have the delightful woman with him on all occasions.

He made up his mind.

‘My dear,’ he said, ‘you must not go back to your husband. We will make you into a lady of the Court.’

‘And then . . . I may be with you . . . always?’

He took her hand and kissed it.

She knew what this meant. She was to be brought to Court; many honours would be hers. She would be the acknowledged mistress of the King.

Her eyes were gleaming with emotion. Her lips moved.

‘I will say it for you,’ said Louis. ‘This is the happiest night of
our
lives!’

Charles-Guillaume came to the Hôtel de Gesvres in high spirits. He had been long away, and was longing to be with his wife and two children – but most of all with Jeanne-Antoinette.

When he entered the house he was greeted by his uncle, who looked at him solemnly.

‘Is anything wrong?’ he asked.

‘Come along in,’ said Monsieur de Tourneheim. ‘There is something we have to say to you.’

‘Jeanne-Antoinette . . . she is well?’

His uncle nodded.

‘The children then?’

‘They are also well.’

He led him into a small parlour where the Poissons were waiting for him.

It was Madame Poisson who explained. ‘Jeanne-Antoinette has gone away,’ she said.

‘Gone away! But where?’

‘She is at Versailles.’

‘Versailles!’

‘With the King.’

‘But I don’t understand.’

‘She always explained, did she not?’ cried Madame Poisson fiercely. ‘It is no fault of hers. It is her destiny. She is to stay at Versailles with the King.’

‘But this is fantastic. It cannot be true.’

‘It is quite true,’ said François. ‘Our Jeanne-Antoinette has become the King’s whore.’

His wife turned on him. ‘Don’t say such things. She is to be acknowledged as his mistress.’

‘I’m a plain man with a plain way of saying what I mean,’ said François.

‘She must come back,’ cried Charles-Guillaume. ‘She must come back at once. What of me . . . what of the children? . . .’

‘This was bound to happen,’ said Madame Poisson. ‘She always told you.’

‘That! It was a joke.’

‘There is nothing you can do about it,’ said François. He jerked his finger at his wife and Lenormant. ‘They arranged it. They always meant to.’

Madame Poisson folded her arms across her breasts. What has to be will be,’ she said. ‘There’s no saying nay to it.’

‘My Jeanne-Antoinette . . .’ murmured the anguished husband.

Then he shut himself into the bedroom he had shared with her, and he would not come out when they sought to comfort him.

He wrote to her: ‘Jeanne-Antoinette, come back. This is your home. I am your husband. Your children are here . . . Come back to us.’

Distracted he waited for her reply. She was kind, he knew. She would not ignore that anguished appeal.

And she did reply.

For the rest of her life, she said, she would be with the King. Neither of them could have prevented this thing which had happened to them. It had been ordained. When she had been only nine years old she had known that it would come to pass. Never, never would she leave the King.

With the coming of the spring it was necessary for Louis to return to his armies, and while he was away he wished Jeanne-Antoinette to learn the intricacies of Court Etiquette, so that when he came back again she should join him at the Court, be presented, and henceforth be known throughout France as the woman with whom he had chosen to share his life.

Her mother and Monsieur de Tourneheim made the arrangements, while poor broken-hearted Charles-Guillaume was dispatched to the South of France on business, that he might not distress them with his misery.

It was inadvisable to remain in Paris because the people had become aware of the existence of Madame d’Etioles, and they were not very kind to the King’s mistresses when he was not at hand to protect them. Therefore to the Château d’Etioles went Jeanne-Antoinette.

But how different was life there now from what it had been in those days when she had sought to attract the King’s attention by her sorties into the forest.

Now courtiers flocked to the château to cement their friendship with a lady who was clearly going to be a power in the land.

On the King’s orders the Abbé de Bernis arrived. He was to teach her the family histories of the most noble families at Court. The Marquis de Gontaut must teach her the manners of the Court. It was very important to bow to some people and only nod at others, for a bow given to one who was only worthy of a nod could create a scandal at Versailles. Certain terms of speech were used at Versailles which would not be understood or indeed might have a different meaning outside. It was very necessary for a King’s mistress to be aware of matters embodied in that all-important Etiquette, which, it was said, ruled the Court even more sternly than did the King.

She worked hard and with passionate desire to succeed. She swept about the lawns at the Château d’Etioles as though they were the gardens of Versailles. She grew in dignity and beauty.

Madame Poisson almost wept with joy every time she looked at her. There were few, she said, who were so blessed as to see that, which they had hoped and longed and worked for, come true.

The King wrote regularly to her that she might never doubt his devotion.

He was longing, as she was, for the time when they could be together at Versailles – openly together.

And one day a further example of his esteem arrived at the Château d’Etioles in the form of documents which assured her that she was no longer Madame d’Etioles; she was the Marquise de Pompadour.

Chapter X