The Road to Compiegne Read Online Free

Louis. ‘Perhaps we drink too much at our little suppers – our intimate suppers which we and we alone share.’
    Adelaide continued to stamp her foot. Her face was flushed scarlet. ‘Nonsense! Nonsense!’ she cried.
    ‘Now, my dear, ring for your sisters. Their coffee will be cold.’
    Adelaide pulled the bell which was connected with Victoire’s appartements next to her own, and in a few minutes Victoire came hurrying in. Adelaide watched her sternly while she curtsied to their father.
    ‘And you rang for Sophie?’ asked Adelaide.
    ‘Yes, Adelaide.’
    ‘Well, my dear, I have made this coffee. Come,’ said the King. ‘Sit beside me and tell me your news.’
    It was five minutes later when Sophie appeared.
    She curtsied to her father and Louis was amused to see how her eyes turned to Adelaide as though she were asking what she must do next.
    ‘You rang for Louise-Marie?’ asked Adelaide. Sophie put her hand to her mouth. ‘You have forgotten again,’ scolded Adelaide. ‘Then go back and ring for her immediately.’
    Sophie shambled away. Louis avoided looking at her; he was not very proud of his daughter Sophie. Even Victoire did not attract him very much. She was by no means gay and of course completely dominated by Adelaide.
    ‘What were you doing when you heard the bell?’ Louis asked her.
    Victoire looked at Adelaide as though for inspiration. Adelaide said sternly: ‘Go on. His Majesty has asked a question and expects an answer.’
    ‘I was sitting in my bergère ,’ said Victoire, glancing anxiously at Adelaide to see that her answer had met with approval.
    ‘Sitting,’ said the King. ‘And reading perhaps?’
    ‘Oh no,’ answered Victoire. ‘I was eating. It was chicken and rice.’ Her eyes sparkled at the memory.
    ‘And you would rather be there in your bergère now, eating chicken and rice, than taking coffee with your father?’
    Victoire looked at Adelaide. ‘Certainly you would not,’ said Adelaide. ‘You appreciate the great honour of drinking coffee which is not only served but prepared by His Majesty.’
    ‘Oh yes,’ said Victoire.
    ‘Make the most of the honour,’ said the King. ‘I fear it is all you can enjoy. The coffee itself has grown cold through such delay. And, ah, here is Sophie.’
    ‘Did you ring for Louise-Marie?’ Adelaide asked her.
    Sophie nodded.
    Of all his daughters, Louis thought, Sophie was the most unattractive. It appeared that she could not look him straight in the face, for she had an irritating habit of peering at him sideways. Adelaide said it was not at him only that she looked in this way. People frightened her, and often she did not speak a word to anybody for days at a time. Sometimes she threw herself into the arms of her waiting-women and wept, but when she was asked why she did this, she was not sure.
    ‘Come, my child,’ said Louis now, ‘you would like some coffee?’
    Sophie looked at Adelaide. Adelaide nodded, and Sophie said as though making a great effort: ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
    Louis was aware of Adelaide’s eyes on Victoire. Something was afoot, he realised, and wondered what. Evidently Victoire had some duty to perform and Adelaide was reminding her of this.
    ‘Well, Victoire?’ he asked.
    Victoire hesitated, glanced at Adelaide and then said as though she were repeating a lesson: ‘Maman Putain has a very bad cough. It grows worse. Only she keeps it for when she is alone.’
    Anger showed momentarily on the King’s face. He resisted an impulse to box the stupid child’s ears. How dared she refer to Madame de Pompadour in his presence as “Madame Prostitute”! It was not only an insult to the Marquise but to himself.
    He remembered though that Victoire probably did not understand what she had said; she was clearly obeying Adelaide’s orders, and if he were to be annoyed with anyone it should be with Adelaide.
    Anxious as he always was to avoid unpleasantness he attempted to do so now. He looked coldly at Adelaide