Free Louis the Well-Beloved by Jean Plaidy Page A

the young Duc de Gesvres, and another boy who, although only fifteen, was already a secretary of state. This last was de Maurepas – far more clever than any of the others but, because he was not of such high birth, less prominent.
    Fleury, anxious that Louis should not become interested in women, had encouraged the King’s friendship with these young men, not at first realising that in their languorous habits, their fondness for lying about on cushions, doing a little fine embroidery, talking scandal and eating innumerable sweetmeats, lay danger.
    The Court was horrified. Was Louis to become another Henri Trois to be ruled by his mignons ? Louis was fourteen – strong and healthy, apart from those occasional bouts of fever which seemed to attack him from time to time; he was capable of begetting children. What was the Duc de Bourbon thinking of, what was Fleury thinking of, to allow such dangers to come within the range of the King?
    Bourbon acted promptly. He ordered de la Tremouille’s guardian to get the young man married and remove him from Court; so the little coterie was scattered.
    Louis allowed them to go without comment. He was now becoming accustomed to losing his friends.
    Shortly after the dismissal of de la Tremouille Louis became ill with fever, and once more alarm spread through Paris.
    When Madame de Prie heard the news she hurried to her lover.
    ‘What will happen to us if the King dies?’ she demanded.
    Bourbon regarded her in perplexity.
    ‘I will explain,’ said the strong-minded woman. ‘Young Orléans will take the throne. Then, Monsieur le Duc, you will be dismissed from your office.’
    Bourbon nodded. ‘The King must not die,’ he declared.
    ‘Indeed not! And there must be no more shocks such as this.’
    ‘How can we prevent his taking these fevers?’
    ‘We cannot. Therefore he must produce an heir to the throne. If he died then, you would still continue in your position.’
    ‘But the Infanta is only a child. There can be no heir for years.’
    ‘Not if he is going to wait for the Infanta.’
    ‘But indeed he must wait for the Infanta. How else?’
    ‘By taking another wife, of course.’
    ‘He is betrothed to the Infanta.’
    ‘A child of eight! It is quite ridiculous. That boy has become a man, I tell you. What is going to happen if you keep him unmarried? There will be a mistress before long. A mistress! Imagine that. How many ambitious women do you think there are in this Court simply waiting to leap into his bed? And then, what of us? Or what if he should have a friend . . . a mignon like de la Tremouille? The position would be the same. We are here, my dear friend, at the head of affairs. We must not be so foolish as to allow others to push us aside.’
    ‘But an heir . . . it is impossible!’
    ‘Nothing is impossible if we decide otherwise. The King must be provided with a wife, and that silly little child sent back where she belongs – to her own country.’
    ‘You would make war with Spain!’
    ‘Bah! Does Spain want war with France? France and Spain . . . are they not both ruled by Bourbon Kings? No! A little coolness perhaps. But what of that? It will be forgotten, and we shall make our little King a husband and get the heir we need.’
    ‘But . . .’ stammered Bourbon . . . ‘how can we do this?’
    She smiled and, putting her hands on his shoulders, drew him to her and kissed him. ‘First,’ she said, ‘we will have the people talking. That is always the way to get delicate matters started. Oh, the people of Paris! How they love their little King! You will see, in a very short time you will hear them saying that our King is a man, that were he married to a woman of his age there would be a Dauphin of France by now. Wait, my darling. You have but to leave this little matter in my hands.’
    ‘You are not only the most desirable woman in France,’ murmured the Duc, ‘you are possessed of genius.’

    Tears streamed down the fat pink cheeks of Maria Anna