Louis, unable to resist the temptation, turned his head towards the Duchess. She sat so that he could only see her profile, but from it he knew that her face was flushed. He noted the stiff poise of her head, the pure immobility of her shoulder, the slight dilation of her nostril, the mouth firmly closed even while she smiled at a witticism. Louis was satisfied. His anger with Claude de Mailly was dispelled. Surely no woman would have the effrontery longer to encourage a petty cousin while her position wavered in the balance. Already the King released the hand he held and took a different tone of conversation with the Gontaut.
But Louis of France did not yet realize what things an offended woman will be reckless enough to do. Mme. de Châteauroux was furious, and her fury knew no prudence. She was accustomed to her way, a way which was not that of submission. Her pride was greater than the King's own, and woe to the king who affronted it! In the instant after she had watched Louis' carefully prepared scene, her eyes fell, by accident, on the figure of Claude, who sat far down the table. The sight of him showed her her opportunity for satisfaction. While she ate, while she laughed, and talked, and quaffed champagne and the new Bordeaux, she planned all in her mind. What matter if she lost one man his freedom? She, Marie Anne de Mailly-Nesle, would make a king suffer the consequences of his malice, and would once more make sure of her own place, her position as Queen of France.
At eight o'clock the King rose from the table. Generally speaking, the supper had not been particularly enjoyable. Every one was wearied by the long drive, and a long continuance of gayety over the food proved impossible. Besides this, the favorite had not set the tone of conversation, and those who knew her expression were aware that she was in the worst possible humor. Mme. de Gontaut was displaying her short triumph so openly that his Majesty frowned and actually left her side as the company adjourned in informal groups to the salons next the banquet-room. Mme. de Châteauroux, still assiduously attended by d'Epernon, sought out Victorine de Coigny, who stood beside Henri de Mailly-Nesle. The little Marquise very well knew the reason for this meeting, and she was suddenly seized with a chill of terror. Looking up at her friend, she found the Duchess's eyes fixed on her in kindly interest.
"He will be here?" she breathed, just audibly.
The Duchess nodded and smiled. "With Coyer. It was my command," she answered. And Victorine, impulsively seizing her hand, carried it to her lips.
Once in the Salon Pastorale, with none of those salutations to members of the royal family or guests of royal blood which were invariably expected, at a Versailles' affair, to be made, the King, contrary to his first purpose, but led irresistibly, made his way to the side of Mme. de Châteauroux. She and Victorine stood near the door-way, talking with a small company of Louis' intimates. There was some slight apprehension in the King's manner of approach, for la Châteauroux very rarely concealed any displeasure that she might be feeling towards him. But this time he was received by a pretty gesture of welcome. Louis kissed her hand, and, as he lifted his head again, caught sight of some one at the other end of the room who arrested his attention.
"Since when, Madame," he inquired, "have our assemblies in retreat been frequented by members of the clergy?"
La Châteauroux was in no way disturbed by the tone. "Have you forgotten, then, Sire, my request that M. de Bernis be presented by the Abbé Coyer, who brings him to-night? De Bernis was one of the protégés of the Cardinal Fleury. I thought that, in such case, his appearance before you could not be dis—"
"Enough, enough, Anne," interrupted the King at once, with the strangely gentle manner which the mention of his former preceptor and minister invariably called forth. "I shall be delighted to know M. de Bernis."
The King failed to perceive the glances that passed from man to man about him at the words of the Duchess. Neither was he aware of the fact that de Bernis' presentation at Court had been delayed for eight endless years because the flagrant irregularity of his life had so displeased Fleury that the Cardinal had refused to give this priest an entrée to the circle of the Queen, whom he respected, or to that of the King, whom he loved. Mme. de Châteauroux was perfectly aware of all this; but Fleury had been dead a year, and any qualms that she might otherwise have felt were lost in the interest of watching the face of Victorine de Coigny, who had just perceived the approach of the new-comers.