The Heiress (12 page)

‘Find someone,' Louise said quickly. ‘I'll pay whatever they ask. And tell Pierre there'll be twenty pistoles for him if he can arrange it.'

‘One of the Duchesse de Gramont's maids would be perfect,' Marie said. ‘She would be sure to get a place in any household coming from there. I will try and send him a message this evening, Madame. He may slip away from his duties for a little time.'

‘Marie,' Louise went to her bureau; she spoke with her back to the maid. ‘I'm very grateful to you. You're a clever girl. Here, take this. I'll double it the day I can show Monsieur Macdonald proof that his wife and that fellow are lovers.'

She threw a little purse towards Marie who caught it and made her mistress a deep curtsy.

‘You shall have the proof, Madame. Even if it doesn't exist,' and she laughed.

‘My dear Anne, how nice it is to spend a few moments together away from all the crowds of people.'

Lady Katharine turned to her daughter-in-law and smiled. Both ladies were walking through the ornamental gardens towards the magnificent Basin de Neptune Fountain in the Palace grounds. It was a beautiful spring day, and they wore light cloaks over their dresses, and carried muffs made of lace and ribbons. Two little page boys trotted at a distance of twenty-five paces behind them as it was considered improper for ladies of rank to walk anywhere unattended. They walked slowly, bowing to people they passed who were also promenading in the sunshine.

‘Privacy is impossible,' Anne answered. ‘How I long to move to Paris to my own house! You can come and see me often there, dear Madame Mama.'

‘James will be very grateful,' Katharine said. ‘He grows more and more oppressed by living here. You may find we visit you much too often!'

‘That could never be,' Anne said. ‘You're like my own parents. You will dine with me before the ball, won't you?'

‘We'll be delighted. Everyone I meet is talking about it, and quite a lot of people are hinting to me about invitations,' she laughed. ‘You know, my dear, for someone who has spent her life at Charantaise, living far away from the Court, you have caused more sensation in the last two months than anyone I can recall! You will invite the Dubarry, of course?'

‘Of course. I very badly want the King to come. I wanted to ask you, Madame Mama, will you present me to her soon—I've never met her and I know you're on friendly terms.'

‘I will with pleasure. I only advise you to be extremely pleasant but not to get too intimate. She's a deplorable creature in many ways, though quite kind-hearted in others. Certainly her friends are not fit companions for you. Tell me something, Why have you decided to launch yourself so spectacularly at Court? I imagined you'd tire of it after a few weeks and hurry back to Charantaise.…'

‘You can't guess why?' Anne asked her. They turned off the main promenade path down towards the enormous shimmering fountain, its jets sending a cloud of water and spray into the air.

‘No,' Katharine said. ‘I cannot. Unless you have grown to like Court life and I find that very out of character.'

‘I detest Versailles,' Anne said quietly. ‘I detest living in two dingy little rooms like cupboards, standing for hours on end, being hungry and thirsty—cold when it's cold, and baked when it's hot; I hate fighting for food and drink and spending my time running from one salon to another in the King's wake and running upstairs to change my costume ten times a day. I hate every moment of it. As for living in Paris and coming here at the same time—it will be a nightmare. But if I am going to please my husband, then I must be where he is and do what he likes doing. If my parties are lavish enough he'll come to them instead of other people's; if I have a splendid house he will visit me there. That's why I am doing it. I shan't keep him by living at Charantaise, however much I love it.'

Katharine stopped abruptly.

‘You are doing all this for Charles?'

‘Yes, and for myself too. I want him with me.'

‘And you really think that all this will bring him? Anne, will you forgive me if I ask you how things really are between you? I hardly see my son; I seldom speak to him if I can help it. But I hear all the rumours just the same. He hasn't left his mistress, has he?'

‘No,' Anne said. ‘But he hasn't left me either. That's what gives me hope. He still comes to me at times; I never know when or why, but he just comes.'

‘And otherwise he just ignores you,' Katharine said. ‘He pays you no attentions, never escorts you, spends all his time with that creature and then
visits
you.… Is that what you mean, Anne?'

‘He has taken me to the Tuileries, and once we went hunting together. Otherwise he comes at night.' She blushed and looked appealingly at her mother-in-law. ‘Try not to despise me. It's all I have of him.'

‘And you still
love
this scoundrel?' The older woman stared at her; suddenly she shook her head. ‘Of course you must, to submit to it.'

‘Don't you see,' Anne said, ‘if he didn't care for me at all, he wouldn't come … it's not from duty. It must be because he has some feeling for me.'

‘Is he tender to you,' Katharine asked her. ‘Does he tell you he loves you?'

‘No,' she said. ‘He hardly says a word to me. Sometimes he's gentle, sometimes—not. It depends upon his mood. I'm used to it now. But if he stops coming to me, I shall know that all is really lost. And whatever it costs me, I'm going to keep what little hold on him I have.'

‘I see,' Katharine began to walk on and Anne followed her. The two little boys marched on behind them keeping the regulation distance. At the edge of the great fountain they stopped; the fine spray whirled above their heads in clouds of wet mist, blown away from them by the breeze. On the other side of the huge marble basin the paths were quite damp.

‘I see,' Katharine said again. ‘Well, my dear, that answers the other question James forbade me to ask you.'

‘And what was that? Please ask it, I shan't mind. I haven't any secrets from you.'

‘Whether this Captain O'Neil was your lover. Everyone is sure he is, especially since you've taken him into your household.'

‘Well, they're wrong!' Anne said shortly. ‘Really, the minds of the people here are as low as their morals. Francis O'Neil is a dear friend of mine and all I've done is employ him as my agent to help him stay at Versailles until he can get an audience with the King. I need an agent; this house and the staff and my horses are all too much for me to manage alone. I always had a steward and a comptroller and my uncle at Charantaise. Francis has done everything wonderfully well for me. I'm not giving him charity, I promise you. If you think he'd take it from a mistress or anyone else, you don't know him!'

‘No, I don't know him, my dear,' Katharine answered gently. ‘I don't think I've ever seen him. And don't misunderstand me. If he were your lover I should be delighted for you. It's just that it seems a pity to suffer the bad reputation when he's not.'

‘There's not one woman at Court who
has
any reputation, whether she's virtuous or not. If it weren't Francis they were gossiping about it would be someone else. The moment he gets a commission from the King he'll leave. That ought to satisfy them.'

‘One thing surprises me,' her mother-in-law said. ‘Knowing what my son is like, I wonder he hasn't picked a quarrel with your Captain. Be careful he doesn't, Anne. There's nothing would please Charles more than to fight a duel with an innocent man and kill him. I should be careful for this young man's sake.'

‘There's no need,' she said quickly. ‘Charles knows I'm faithful to him. And I'm afraid I don't believe he's as evil as you say. Shall we turn back now?'

‘If you like; don't be angry with me. I'm only trying to protect you. As for being faithful to my son, if you ever decide to deceive him you can be sure of my blessing!'

‘Madame Mama!' Anne looked at her for a moment and then began to laugh. ‘I'm glad I'm your daughter-in-law and not your son.…' They walked back to the Palace arm in arm.

The Hôtel de Bernard was completed by the end of April, and, while keeping her apartments at Versailles, Anne moved into her house in Paris. Francis O'Neil was at the door to meet her when her coach stopped and she came up the steps. The shabby clothes were replaced by fashionably cut coat and breeches, and the Captain wore a powdered wig. He looked very much the descendant of twenty generations of Norman Irish aristocrats, as he bent over Anne's hand and kissed it.

‘Everything is ready; we have been working since dawn to have everything in place for you. I only hope you'll be pleased with it.'

‘I know I will.' She smiled at him, and for a moment he held her hand longer than he needed. Behind him there were ranks of footmen headed by the steward; the marble hall was full of candles, blazing from fine ormolu
torchères
and from the massive bronze and gilded chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He gave her his arm and together they walked into the house and up the magnificent staircase, its polished steps inlaid with different coloured woods in a delicate design, past paintings and sculptures and slowly through the main reception rooms, all of which were splendidly furnished, their tapestries and hangings glowing against the white and gold walls.

Anne stopped at the dining-salon.

‘This is different, Francis—it's magnificent!'

She had chosen the furniture and ornaments for all the main rooms herself, leaving the final placings to Francis, but the dining-room was not as she had ordered it. The table was golden, from the elegant carved legs to the mosaic top, and it stretched down the room, its jewel-coloured surface shimmering in the candlelight. The chairs were gold, too, upholstered in silk work with a delicate design of exotic birds. There were no tapestries on the walls, but painted murals of an idyllic landscape scene with lovers, trees and waterfalls and vistas of flowers against a background of azure blue sky and drifting clouds gave the room a magical beauty and perspective.

‘Francis, it's unbelievable! That table and the chairs are beautiful enough, but these paintings …'

‘A pupil of Boucher's,' the Captain said smiling. ‘He's followed the same style that the master used at Louveciennes for the Dubarry. I thought you'd like his work.'

‘But the cost,' she murmured. ‘It must have cost a fortune!'

‘Not a penny above what you told me to spend,' he said triumphantly. ‘I'm a mean man when it comes to paying out. I had enough left, and more, to make this room a complete surprise for you. But I hope you like it, or I'd best go out and shoot myself!'

‘I love it,' she said warmly. ‘I shall be the envy of Paris; everyone will fight to come and dine here. Dear Francis, how clever of you to have done all this!'

‘I wanted to please you,' he said gently. ‘I wanted to give you a surprise. If I had the money I'd have paid for it myself. But it was little enough to take a bit of trouble for you—after all you've done for me!'

‘I've done nothing for you,' she said quickly. ‘All I've done is secure myself the best friend any woman ever had. Thank you, dear Francis. I've never seen anything so lovely.'

Impulsively she reached up and kissed him on the cheek, and at once he flushed deeply. ‘If you do that, Anne, I may forget my place.'

She touched her breast. ‘Your place is here, with all the people who are dear to me. Come, show me the rest!'

Neither of them noticed the maid who was trimming the lights just outside the open door of the dining-room. She had been engaged the week before, after suddenly leaving the employment of the Duchesse de Gramont with an excuse that she was getting married. Her references had been in order and she was among ten others taken on at the Hôtel at the same time. Pierre, the footman at the Duchesse's house, had already given her five pistoles and the rest would be paid when she had collected the proof required. It was also suggested that what she failed to discover might have to be manufactured. From what she had just seen pass between the mistress of the Hôtel and her agent she wouldn't need to invent anything.

Alone in her bedroom Anne threw aside her cloak and muff and sat down on the little gilt seat by the window. This room too was beautiful in decoration and proportion, dominated by the tall, canopied bed, the yellow satin drapery caught at the top by carved wood cupids holding a wreath of painted flowers. The dressing-table, the low seats, the splendid ormolu and satinwood chests were pieces specially made for her mother; it was a coquette's room, its ceiling painted with cupids surrounding a half-nude goddess, discreetly veiled by clouds. She would have gladly exchanged all of it to be back at Charantaise among the familiar rooms and the well-loved furnishings, to hear the excited barking of her dogs as they raced across the hall to welcome her. She did not enjoy hunting at Versailles; it was too formal, too bound by etiquette. There was nothing to compare with the wild chase across the fields and through the woods of her own lands, side by side with the huntsmen who had taught her as a child, and be able to spare the stag if she wished. For a moment she felt very tired; her mother-in-law's face haunted her, the expression of pity and surprise mocked all her hopes when she thought of Charles and laid her plans to draw him to her. Katharine did not believe she would succeed. Katharine considered his visits an insult, prompted by cold-blooded lust instead of the signs of sentiment she imagined them. She was his mother; she was probably right.

‘Madame?'

Marie-Jeanne was so close to her that Anne jumped.

‘I beg your pardon, Madame, I didn't mean to frighten you. I knocked but you didn't hear. A messenger brought this. He is below, waiting for an answer.'

Anne saw the Macdonald seal on the note and tore it open.