Royal Flush: The Story of Minette by Margaret Irwin

Author:Margaret Irwin [Irwin, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: England/Great Britain, France, Royalty, Fiction - Historical, 17th Century, Scotland
ISBN: 9781448211128
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2013-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

XXIV

To the Fête of Vaux then that La Fontaine made famous in his songs, the most gorgeous fête the Court had ever seen, and the last to be given by the ill-fated Minister of Finance, Madame, its protagonist, was carried in a litter.

Dr. Yvelin’s order had not been excessive; there were many who before the night was over wished they too could have obeyed it. A thousand acres of park and pleasure-ground had been given over to the fete, whole hamlets had been levelled to the ground, trees had been torn up, and streams turned from their course. Groves of great orange trees in square painted tubs had been moved out by engines. The cost of the supper alone, to feed six thousand people, was 120,000 livres. The steward, Vatel, controlled its vast organization; Minette had a glimpse of his pale, inspired face, as devout in his enormous task as that of any poet in the act of creation.

Her litter had been tastefully planned with cushions to carry on the design of her dress, and she made fun of it, comparing herself to a Chinese lady in her palanquin, or a gouty old English lord, or the Fat Woman at a fair who has to be moved about from one place to another. Perched between the two running footmen who bore the poles in their hands, she had the air of some lovely exotic bird, carried about in its cage, and few people had time to notice how ill she looked, so quick and gay were her smiles, her gestures, her snatches of talk.

The King hurried to her side with greetings and enquiries for her health. The latter were perfunctory, for he hated anything to do with illness, but his eyes opened on her equipage in a genuine impulse of admiration. But trouble was brewing in him, she could feel it at once; Louis was dangerous tonight.

‘I must speak to you,’ he said in a low tone. It was weeks since he had said that. She could have cried with joy. Even if he ceased to desire her with passion, he would still consult with her and they could always be friends. But it was not possible to speak then; they had to go into the house. Le Notre, who had designed the gardens, was introduced to the King; Louis praised his classic precision of taste, his contrast of green lawns with snowy marble, of dark cypresses with silver fountains. And then he complimented his host again and again on his magnificence.

Minette knew that he distrusted Fouquet. She thought the great minister had a nervously watchful eye this evening; all the time that he was showing the King fresh evidences of his wealth and taste he must be asking himself if he were making the right impression. She could have told him that he was not (clever men were so stupid), that Louis loved show, but that it must be his own show.

The royal compliments had a sinister sound in her ears.

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