De Vardes bowed.
Louis took de Guiche’s letter, read it and knew great jealousy.
He thought: I have been deceived. I have told myself that if I could have married Henriette, I should be the happiest man alive. I have idealized her; but if this man is her lover, she is unworthy of idealized love.
It was typical of Louis, openly unfaithful himself, to expect fidelity in others. Henriette had always known this side of his nature; but did she love him for his virtues? No more than she loved Charles for his.
And so the letter was brought to her, and the King was secreted in a closet to see and hear her reception of it.
When she saw what her visitor had brought, she turned away from him. “You bring me that which I have no wish to receive,” she said. “I pray you take it back to him who gave it to you and tell him that he breaks the King’s command by writing to me thus.”
De Vardes fell on to his knees; he tried to take her hands; he exerted all his fascination, to the potency of which there were so many women at Court to bear witness, in an effort to make her betray some weakness to the watching King.
But Henriette had no love for either de Guiche or de Vardes, although she entertained a certain fondness for the former.
“Pray leave me,” she said. “I wish to hear no more from either of you. I wish only to be left in peace; you have done me too much harm already.”
De Vardes left and immediately Louis joined Henriette. She was shocked to realize she had been spied upon; but it was a great relief to know that Louis was her friend again.
“Now I have heard with my own ears and seen with my own eyes how you spurn these fellows. Can you forgive me for accepting their word against yours? I was jealous, Henriette. Oh, what an unhappy state is this in which we find ourselves!”
“If I may see you often,” she said, “if I may enjoy your friendship, I could be happy.”
“We shall be together as we were before. My favor is yours as it ever was. Henriette, we love and our love is a sacred passion … above more earthly loves.”
Then she felt it was as it had been when they had first made that wonderful discovery regarding each other.
But still he did not carry out his threats to punish de Vardes; and he remained jealous of Charles.
One of the noblemen of the Court was giving a masked ball, and as the King was not present on this occasion, the principal guests were Monsieur and Madame.
There was a great deal of excitement, as there always was at these affairs; flirtations were conducted under cover of wigs and masks. Henriette was glad of the anonymity.
She and Philippe went by coach to the nobleman’s mansion—not in their own coach, which would have betrayed them, but in a hired one. Philippe scarcely spoke to his wife nowadays; he had ceased to show any great interest in her. He was pleased that she had given him a son who seemed to be more healthy than the Dauphin; he was pleased also that their daughter lived, although the King’s had died. Henriette knew that such rivalry would always exist between them. Anne of Austria and Mazarin had perverted Philippe’s mind during his childhood, when he had always been compelled to remember that his brother was his King.
When they arrived at the house Philippe gave his hand to the nearest lady, and a man immediately came forward to escort Henriette.
As she laid her hand on his satin sleeve she was aware of his excitement.
She said: “Have we met before, Monsieur?”
He answered: “Madame, we have.”
“Then you know my identity?”
“Who could fail to recognize the most elegant and beautiful lady of the Court? Madame is like a slender lily compared with weeds.”
Then since you know me, I pray you keep my identity secret. Remember this is a masked ball.”
Then glancing down she caught sight of his hand, and she remembered hearing that, in the recent battle in which he had taken part, de Guiche had lost several of his fingers. The hand of this man was maimed.
Henriette caught her breath. How could she have been mistaken? He had a distinguished air, this de Guiche. He had a recklessness, something of the adventurer in him. He was taller than most men—though not as tall as Louis; now she saw that the large mask did not entirely conceal the well-shaped nose and sensitive mouth.
She thought: So he has dared to seek me out in this way! This is folly. If Louis were to hear of our meeting he would believe that I have been guilty of conspiring to bring it about.
“Monsieur,” she said, “I wish you to leave me when we reach the top of the staircase.”
“Madame … dear madame … I had hoped to be your companion for longer than that.”
“You are a fool!” she cried. “I know who you are. So will others. And as you recognized me … so will they.”
“Madame, I had to speak to you. I had to find some way. I could not endure those days without a sight of you.”
“Monsieur de Guiche, you know you disobey the King’s orders. If you have any regard for me, bring no more trouble on yourself … or me.”
“It is not only to give myself the joy of seeing you and speaking to you which has brought me here. I know that to be dangerous. But I have to warn you; I do not believe you understand to the full the treachery of de Vardes and his mistress.”
“I think I understand full well how those two have tried to harm me in the King’s eyes.”
“I beg of you, listen to me. De Vardes is determined to ruin us both. Madame de Soissons is jealous, not only of the King’s regard for you, but because de Vardes desired you so passionately. De Vardes is not in high favor with the King, but Louis always has a soft spot for his mistresses, and Madame de Soissons has his ear. She has this day told the King that, in secret correspondence, you have suggested to your brother that you take possession of Dunkirk in his name; also that this is my plan, and that I am ready to place my regiment of guards at your disposal.”
Henriette caught her breath. “But this is madness.”
“The madness of jealousy … envy … and those determined on revenge. The King already suspects you are more ready to serve your brother than to serve him. Madame, beware.”
Philippe, who had reached the top of the staircase, had turned and was watching them.
Henriette whispered: “He knows you. He has recognized you. He has never forgiven you for turning from him to me. He too suffers from his jealousy. I beg of you, Monsieur de Guiche, as soon as we reach the top of the stairs, leave me. And leave this ballroom. It is unsafe for you to be here.
And when they reached the top of the stairs, she turned hastily from him and started to walk towards Philippe. In her haste her foot caught in her gown and she tripped and fell. It was de Guiche who leaped forward to catch her.
There were gasps of horror from those about her. Someone said in a loud voice: “Madame has fainted!”
Henriette realized that she was recognized, and in de Guiche’s arms. She hastily disengaged herself; but as she did so she was aware of de Vardes’ cynical voice beside her.
“There is no mistaking Madame. That beauty … that elegance cannot be hidden by a mask. But who is her savior? I think we may be forgiven a little curiosity on that score.”
He stepped towards de Guiche and with a swift movement tore off his mask.
There was a murmur of: “De Guiche!”
“Our gallant soldier!” said de Vardes mockingly. “It is no great surprise that he should be at hand … when Madame needs him.”
With great dignity de Guiche cried: “Monsieur de Vardes, my friends will be calling on you tomorrow.”
De Vardes bowed: “Monsieur, they will be most welcome.”
De Guiche then turned and walked haughtily through the press of courtiers and out of the ballroom.