The French Bride Read Free Page A

her.
    â€˜Charles!’ She ran to him and for a moment he held her off, mocking her eagerness. Then he pulled her to him and kissed her. After a moment he looked up at the maid.
    â€˜Get out!’
    Marie curtsied and vanished through the door in the wall; she slept in a small closet where she could hear the baroness’ bell if she were needed. It wouldn’t ring tonight.
    â€˜You’re so late,’ Louise whispered, avoiding his mouth for a moment. ‘I have supper prepared for you.… Darling beloved, you’re tearing my dress … come and sit down for a moment.’
    â€˜I don’t want supper and I’m not going to sit down. Come to bed, Louise; to hell with the dress. I’ll buy you another one!’
    â€˜What with?’ she whispered. He picked her up and kicked open the bedroom door. A table was laid for supper in one corner of the room; there were candles and flowers and the bed was turned down. The rooms were very small and in the upper regions of an outer wing, far from the main building. Louise was lucky to have secured them. ‘How can you buy me a new dress when you’re always in debt?’ She looked up at him from the bed. He had flung off his wig and stripped off his coat. ‘I’ll be a rich man soon. No more questions now!’ Louise held out her arms to him.
    â€˜Silence me then,’ she said.
    Louis XV was sixty-one years old and he had been King of France for fifty-six years. Those who wished to see him privately knew that the quickest means of entry was through the rooms of Madame du Barry, and the best way of ensuring a sympathetic audience was to talk to her first.
    In spite of her reputation, Sir James Macdonald found it impossible to dislike the King’s mistress. She was common and inclined to be familiar; more than one disdainful nobleman and many haughty women had felt the sting of the comtesse’s urchin sense of humour, but in a court where morals were a scandal and the inhumanities practised as a matter of course, the Du Barry was no more vicious than anyone else and far better-natured than most. She injured nobody and tried to help many; her greatest wish was to be liked and accepted. Her extravagance and lewdness were part of the day-to-day life at Versailles, and those who wished for the King’s favour, accepted both without comment. She was sitting in her boudoir when Sir James came in. She looked exquisitely pretty in a loose gown of pale blue, sewed with pink and silver lover’s knots, and a fortune in pink pearls shining on her neck and breast. Her famous hair was gathered up by more pink and silver bows and an enormous pink diamond winked and blazed out of the mass of curls. The comtesse was ready for His Majesty; she had found a street juggler in Paris and, being delighted by his tricks, brought him to Versailles to perform before the King. A select group of Du Barry’s friends had been invited; after the juggler there was a singer and some musicians. The King was growing old so rapidly that it was necessary to stimulate him with songs and plays of such lasciviousness that even the court was shocked. But the gay and pretty little courtesan knew better. She was no prude and they made her laugh. If they made the King affectionate and he wanted to sit and fondle her in public and recapture some of his old vigour afterwards, why should a few sour faces grudge it to him.…
    She gave her hand to Sir James to kiss and asked him at once what he wanted.
    â€˜I know you want something, monsieur, you have the look … I’ve been here long enough now to recognise it a mile off. What can I do for you – or what can the King do?’
    â€˜Something very simple, madame,’ he answered and in spite of himself he smiled into the lovely, impudent little face. ‘Something very simple which won’t cost His Majesty a sou.’
    â€˜By God, that’ll be a change.’ Du Barry giggled.