The Nymph of Versailles

Chapter 11

"Pity her then for soon you will be the true queen of France." Gabrielle called for a roll and the woman next to her passed one down.

Athénaïs gave a laugh of delight at the notion of her as queen. She couldn't help her confidence. The magic of Versailles and the gold encasing her made her feel like a queen already. Last night the king had come to her and taken her in bed while swearing no one could match her beauty.

"I want to smell one of the orange trees again." Gabriel picked at her remaining food. Orange trees in pots dotted the grounds. "They are as exquisite as the candied fruit I ate earlier."

"Loui—His Majesty loves his orange trees." Sometimes she found herself tempted to refer to him by name, but tried to keep from using it in public. If she was to keep her secret a little longer she needed to play the part of adoring courtier and nothing more while paying his title due respect. "He likes how they show his dominion over nature and their fragrance is irresistible. For some reason he enjoys the strawberries more." She spent hours walking the gardens with him. He spoke to his gardeners as though they were nobles themselves instead of commoners and she admired it. The results he got from his gardeners certainly demanded respect.

"Have you shown him your fountain design yet?"

"I plan to as soon as the festival is over." She yearned to please him with it. A weeping willow she saw while on a carriage ride with him had inspired her design. Jets of water would gush from its branches. With the love the king put into building Versailles, the idea of being a part of it with him made her giddy. She would leave her mark on the palace in a way Louise or the queen never would. "I can't help to fear my husband will return to court without warning. He didn't come to court when he was in Paris this year and I thank God for it. His creditors ran him out of the city."

"Ask the king to pay him off if he comes. While he was fighting for the king last summer he kidnapped a serving-girl. Have the king use that mistake against him."

"I'm afraid to bring my husband up. He's already the main reason the king keeps Louise at his side. And if I got pregnant—" She stopped in her tracks. "Any babies I have of the king my husband could claim as his." Why hadn't she thought of it before? She didn't trust her husband to be kind to her. But for the illegitimate children she might have, would his cruelty prove to be boundless?

Then you will have to hide any children from Montespan." Gabrielle's gaze tracked a woman a few seats down the table from them. The woman didn't wear the same look of merriment as her companions. Instead she had the strict look of a schoolteacher about her. "Isn't that your new friend you met at the Hôtel d'Albret? The poet's widow?"

Athénaïs followed her gaze. "Oh, Madame Scarron. I think you'll like her. She is a fine conversationalist." During her first year of marriage Athénaïs spent hours talking with the woman at the Hôtel Albret. She found her easy to talk to, but Scarron was renewed throughout the Paris salons for exactly that reason.

"Her dark clothes are drab." While the sympathy and commiserating from court ladies also felt fake, Scarron made hers feel genuine. "And I hear she had an affair after her husband's death with a marquis. Her aging looks are still pretty enough for one."

"I don't blame her. She has no husband to hold her back, but I hear she is becoming more pious and ended the affair."

Gabrielle wrinkled her nose. "Sounds like she is becoming stuffy as she ages. What fun is there as a widow if you can't have a handsome lover?"

"She married at sixteen. Maybe she wants a break from men."

"Ah, that's right. She was an orphan and married Scarron to have someone to look after her. She does not seem your type of friend." She jabbed her fork in Scarron's direction. "Didn't her husband die in 1660? Her mourning clothes aren't needed. I thought she was a salon beauty, but she doesn't seem it."