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Authors: Jean Teulé
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ladies-in-waiting and replace them with respectable spouses.’
‘His Majesty had a tendency to come and pick the lovely flowers in the Queen’s “garden”,’ the Duc de Montausier explained to Montespan, who nodded his head knowingly.
‘The King will select six ladies before the end of December,’ continued the hostess. ‘The places will be limited to two princesses, two duchesses, two marquises or comtesses. Almost all the women at court aspire to such a position, and each has her own cabal.’
‘Let us hope that this time none of them will become his mistress,’ remarked the duc, behind Athénaïs, who turned round and said, ‘God save me from such a fate, and if I should become one, I should be most shamed in the eyes of the Queen.’ Louis-Henri approved her words with a nod of his head.
‘The princesses of Elboeuf and Baden, the duchesses of Armagnac and Créqui, and the Marquise d’Humière all seem to be in a good position to be chosen,’ predicted their hostess. ‘There was also the Comtesse de Guiche, but, as you so amusingly related just now, she is in disgrace, therefore … Do you see what I mean, Monsieur?’ asked the duchesse beneath her parasol, turning to Montespan, who stood there with his mouth agape. ‘I might make enquiries of the monarch, if you would allow me, regarding the appointment of your wife as lady-in-waiting to the Queen.’
‘Oh, that would be splendid for Athénaïs!’ exclaimed Louis-Henri.
His wife looked at him with eyes wide open; she could not believe what she had heard. ‘Lady-in-waiting … at Versailles! Do you think that might be possible, Madame de Montausier?’
‘You have all the qualities required: so many charms, so much appeal, such allure! In a word: a real arsenal!’
‘As for yourself, speaking of arsenals …’whispered the duc to Montespan, ‘Marsal and Gigeri have left you greatly in debt and brought you nothing, so I’ve heard. Bear in mind that ladies-in-waiting have a handsome pension!’ he added, to convince Louis-Henri, who had no need of convincing. ‘Naturally, the position does not include the husband.’
‘Naturally.’
In one corner, by a red curtain, players screamed, pulled out their hair and wept uncontrollably. The Marquis de Beaumont had just lost his entire fortune in one game. He remained imperturbably calm. Everyone knew that in a short while, when he went home, he would blow his brains out. Athénaïs said, ‘Let us go. My head is spinning.’
After their goodbyes and thanks and promises to return soon, the Montespans took their leave. On Place Royale, a squatting hunchback got to his feet and came out from under an arcade. He was holding a large lantern at the end of a pole.
‘Five sols to guide you! What are five sols to a gentleman who wears red heels, like your good self, Monsieur?’
The marquis gave his address and the coin with it.
‘You are sensible,’ said the lantern-bearer appreciatively. ‘The darkest, most deserted forest in the realm is a place of safety compared to Paris …’
His luminous balloon bobbed and swayed. Shadows fell and stretched across walls. The lovers of Rue Taranne walked arm in arm as they followed the hunchback. Athénaïs laid her head on her tall husband’s shoulder.
‘If I were to obtain the position, we could buy back the hire of our coach horses.’
She took a cat’s eye from her purse and kissed it. On Rue Saint-Benoît, Louis-Henri said, ‘I did not know that the King had seen you…’
‘And I saw him as well.’
‘Indeed, and how is he? Once, in a crowd, I was able to see the top of his wig, nothing more.’
‘He is short. He has dark eyes with an exotic charm.’
Outside the door of the Montespans’ modest dwelling, the lame lantern-bearer turned round to wait for them. He seemed able to read the clouds of condensation that rose from their lips on that chill early December night. Then, like a winged insect, he scurried to the Châtelet, mumbling,
‘His Majesty had a tendency to come and pick the lovely flowers in the Queen’s “garden”,’ the Duc de Montausier explained to Montespan, who nodded his head knowingly.
‘The King will select six ladies before the end of December,’ continued the hostess. ‘The places will be limited to two princesses, two duchesses, two marquises or comtesses. Almost all the women at court aspire to such a position, and each has her own cabal.’
‘Let us hope that this time none of them will become his mistress,’ remarked the duc, behind Athénaïs, who turned round and said, ‘God save me from such a fate, and if I should become one, I should be most shamed in the eyes of the Queen.’ Louis-Henri approved her words with a nod of his head.
‘The princesses of Elboeuf and Baden, the duchesses of Armagnac and Créqui, and the Marquise d’Humière all seem to be in a good position to be chosen,’ predicted their hostess. ‘There was also the Comtesse de Guiche, but, as you so amusingly related just now, she is in disgrace, therefore … Do you see what I mean, Monsieur?’ asked the duchesse beneath her parasol, turning to Montespan, who stood there with his mouth agape. ‘I might make enquiries of the monarch, if you would allow me, regarding the appointment of your wife as lady-in-waiting to the Queen.’
‘Oh, that would be splendid for Athénaïs!’ exclaimed Louis-Henri.
His wife looked at him with eyes wide open; she could not believe what she had heard. ‘Lady-in-waiting … at Versailles! Do you think that might be possible, Madame de Montausier?’
‘You have all the qualities required: so many charms, so much appeal, such allure! In a word: a real arsenal!’
‘As for yourself, speaking of arsenals …’whispered the duc to Montespan, ‘Marsal and Gigeri have left you greatly in debt and brought you nothing, so I’ve heard. Bear in mind that ladies-in-waiting have a handsome pension!’ he added, to convince Louis-Henri, who had no need of convincing. ‘Naturally, the position does not include the husband.’
‘Naturally.’
In one corner, by a red curtain, players screamed, pulled out their hair and wept uncontrollably. The Marquis de Beaumont had just lost his entire fortune in one game. He remained imperturbably calm. Everyone knew that in a short while, when he went home, he would blow his brains out. Athénaïs said, ‘Let us go. My head is spinning.’
After their goodbyes and thanks and promises to return soon, the Montespans took their leave. On Place Royale, a squatting hunchback got to his feet and came out from under an arcade. He was holding a large lantern at the end of a pole.
‘Five sols to guide you! What are five sols to a gentleman who wears red heels, like your good self, Monsieur?’
The marquis gave his address and the coin with it.
‘You are sensible,’ said the lantern-bearer appreciatively. ‘The darkest, most deserted forest in the realm is a place of safety compared to Paris …’
His luminous balloon bobbed and swayed. Shadows fell and stretched across walls. The lovers of Rue Taranne walked arm in arm as they followed the hunchback. Athénaïs laid her head on her tall husband’s shoulder.
‘If I were to obtain the position, we could buy back the hire of our coach horses.’
She took a cat’s eye from her purse and kissed it. On Rue Saint-Benoît, Louis-Henri said, ‘I did not know that the King had seen you…’
‘And I saw him as well.’
‘Indeed, and how is he? Once, in a crowd, I was able to see the top of his wig, nothing more.’
‘He is short. He has dark eyes with an exotic charm.’
Outside the door of the Montespans’ modest dwelling, the lame lantern-bearer turned round to wait for them. He seemed able to read the clouds of condensation that rose from their lips on that chill early December night. Then, like a winged insect, he scurried to the Châtelet, mumbling,
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