Free Louis the Well-Beloved by Jean Plaidy
Authors: Jean Plaidy
himself during Mass!
‘You are ill?,’ she said.
‘I asked a question.’
‘Do I believe in a life after death?’ she mused. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Then why do you live as you do here on Earth?’
‘Before I die,’ she answered, ‘I shall repent. That is the way of the world. Were I to repent now, I must reform my ways. Oh, what a dismal prospect! Do you not agree?’
He did not answer. ‘Do you not agree with me?’ she repeated.
Then she saw that he had slipped sideways in his chair.
She bent over him in alarm and understood. She rushed out of the apartment calling for help; but by the time it arrived the Duc d’Orléans was dead.
Louis wept bitterly. His genial Uncle Philippe . . . dead! Life was too cruel. He had been taken from Madame de Ventadour; Papa Villeroi had been torn from him, and now Uncle Philippe was dead. There was only one to whom he could turn: Fleury. His tutor now occupied first place in his affections; and Fleury was there to comfort and advise.
The shrewd Bishop of Fréjus was determined one day to be France’s Premier Minister, but he was clever enough to see that the time had not yet come. He would wait until an occasion arose when he would have the King solidly behind him, and when the King’s support would count for something.
At the present time he would have too many against him if he stepped forward into the position he coveted. He summed up the qualities of the Duc de Bourbon who, he guessed, would immediately do his utmost to step into the place vacated by Orléans, and decided Bourbon was no very formidable rival.
Let Bourbon take the place he coveted; let him hold it . . . for a while, until the time was ripe for Fleury, Bishop of Fréjus, to become the power behind the throne.
Bourbon lost no time in coming forward, prodded as he was by his indefatigable and most ambitious mistress. The Duc de Chartres (now Orléans), but twenty years of age and devoted to theology, was not a suitable person for the post, he declared; therefore, as Prince of the Blood Royal who had, he was always ready to point out, family connexion with great Henri Quatre, it was for him to step into the breach.
Would the King accept him?
The King, mourning his beloved Uncle Philippe and prompted by Fleury, gave the required answer.
The most important lady of the Court was now Madame de Prie. Gaily she gave herself to the task of governing France.
She realised however that her favours came from her lover, and was determined that he should not marry a lady who was as eager for power as herself; so her first task was to find a suitable wife for him. She should be the most insignificant woman in the world.
She confided her plans to her lover, who was so besottedly enamoured of her that he agreed with all she suggested.
‘Will you marry the lady I have found for you?’ she asked him.
‘If you command it,’ he told her.
‘Then prepare yourself – for I have found her.’
‘Pray tell me her name.’
‘It is Marie Leczinska, daughter of Stanislas.’
‘What! The exiled King of Poland?’
‘Exactly. Why should you not have a King’s daughter? As an exile he will be glad of any match. She is very plain, but I shall be there to compensate you for that.’
‘You have enough beauty to satisfy any man,’ he told her.
‘That is why you shall have the plainest wife in the world.’ Bourbon grimaced.
‘Plain, homely, humble, she will be delighted to marry a royal Bourbon. She is exactly the wife I have been seeking for you. She will never interfere with us. Is that not what we seek?’
‘It is.’
‘You may leave it to me,’ Madame de Prie told him. ‘I shall see that a marriage is arranged.’
In the scandal which ended in the dismissal of the Duc de la Tremouille, Bourbon forgot his suggested marriage with the King of Poland’s daughter. The Duc de la Tremouille was the leader of a little group of young men which included the Duc d’Epernon, son of the Comtesse de Toulouse,
‘You are ill?,’ she said.
‘I asked a question.’
‘Do I believe in a life after death?’ she mused. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Then why do you live as you do here on Earth?’
‘Before I die,’ she answered, ‘I shall repent. That is the way of the world. Were I to repent now, I must reform my ways. Oh, what a dismal prospect! Do you not agree?’
He did not answer. ‘Do you not agree with me?’ she repeated.
Then she saw that he had slipped sideways in his chair.
She bent over him in alarm and understood. She rushed out of the apartment calling for help; but by the time it arrived the Duc d’Orléans was dead.
Louis wept bitterly. His genial Uncle Philippe . . . dead! Life was too cruel. He had been taken from Madame de Ventadour; Papa Villeroi had been torn from him, and now Uncle Philippe was dead. There was only one to whom he could turn: Fleury. His tutor now occupied first place in his affections; and Fleury was there to comfort and advise.
The shrewd Bishop of Fréjus was determined one day to be France’s Premier Minister, but he was clever enough to see that the time had not yet come. He would wait until an occasion arose when he would have the King solidly behind him, and when the King’s support would count for something.
At the present time he would have too many against him if he stepped forward into the position he coveted. He summed up the qualities of the Duc de Bourbon who, he guessed, would immediately do his utmost to step into the place vacated by Orléans, and decided Bourbon was no very formidable rival.
Let Bourbon take the place he coveted; let him hold it . . . for a while, until the time was ripe for Fleury, Bishop of Fréjus, to become the power behind the throne.
Bourbon lost no time in coming forward, prodded as he was by his indefatigable and most ambitious mistress. The Duc de Chartres (now Orléans), but twenty years of age and devoted to theology, was not a suitable person for the post, he declared; therefore, as Prince of the Blood Royal who had, he was always ready to point out, family connexion with great Henri Quatre, it was for him to step into the breach.
Would the King accept him?
The King, mourning his beloved Uncle Philippe and prompted by Fleury, gave the required answer.
The most important lady of the Court was now Madame de Prie. Gaily she gave herself to the task of governing France.
She realised however that her favours came from her lover, and was determined that he should not marry a lady who was as eager for power as herself; so her first task was to find a suitable wife for him. She should be the most insignificant woman in the world.
She confided her plans to her lover, who was so besottedly enamoured of her that he agreed with all she suggested.
‘Will you marry the lady I have found for you?’ she asked him.
‘If you command it,’ he told her.
‘Then prepare yourself – for I have found her.’
‘Pray tell me her name.’
‘It is Marie Leczinska, daughter of Stanislas.’
‘What! The exiled King of Poland?’
‘Exactly. Why should you not have a King’s daughter? As an exile he will be glad of any match. She is very plain, but I shall be there to compensate you for that.’
‘You have enough beauty to satisfy any man,’ he told her.
‘That is why you shall have the plainest wife in the world.’ Bourbon grimaced.
‘Plain, homely, humble, she will be delighted to marry a royal Bourbon. She is exactly the wife I have been seeking for you. She will never interfere with us. Is that not what we seek?’
‘It is.’
‘You may leave it to me,’ Madame de Prie told him. ‘I shall see that a marriage is arranged.’
In the scandal which ended in the dismissal of the Duc de la Tremouille, Bourbon forgot his suggested marriage with the King of Poland’s daughter. The Duc de la Tremouille was the leader of a little group of young men which included the Duc d’Epernon, son of the Comtesse de Toulouse,