Pierre Pevel - By The Alchemist in the Shadows Page 0,87

a bright smile and, without rising, signalled him to approach.

'Monsieur de Laincourt! Join us, please.'

He obeyed, saluting the mistress of the house first and then her guests, finding himself introduced to Aude de Saint-Avoid and her aunt, madame de Jarville. Aude, who was a relative of the duc de Chevreuse, had arrived from Lorraine to be presented at the French court. Her aunt was acting as her chaperone.

'But now that I think of it,' remarked the duchesse, 'you also come from Lorraine, monsieur de Laincourt.'

'Madame, I must disabuse you of this notion. I was born in Nancy, it is true. But I am French.'

'Really? How is that possible?'

Laincourt, as was often the case when speaking of himself, became evasive.

'One of those accidents of life, madame.'

'We were speaking of the court at Nancy. Don't you think it is so much more appealing and gay than the French court?'

'I am forced to admit that it is, madame.'

The court of Charles IV in fact surpassed that of Louis XIII by far. In Nancy, at the ducal palace, the revels were almost unceasing and often licentious, whereas it was easy to grow bored at the Louvre with its austere and timid king who hated to appear in public. The duchesse thus retained an excellent memory of her stay in Nancy, where the duc had welcomed her with great pomp.

Laincourt supposed she had made the acquaintance of Aude de Saint-Avoid during her time there.

Aude de Saint-Avoid.

As he engaged in the conversation, he had trouble taking his eyes off this young woman. She not only pleased him, she also intrigued him. She had a very charming face, with silky light brown hair, lively green eyes and full, luscious lips. Who could fail to find her ravishing? She did not even suffer from comparison with the splendid madame de Chevreuse. In her fashion, she was less beautiful but prettier than the duchesse, less seductive but more moving. And if the duch-esse's confidence added a touch of triumphant arrogance to her beauty, young Aude had preserved something fragile from her adolescence, somehow both sad and carefree.

However, other than the fact that it was lovely, Aude's face attracted Laincourt's eye because he seemed to recognise it. Had he met her in Nancy? Perhaps. But her name meant nothing to him. Could the duchesse have brought Aude to Paris under a borrowed identity?

Ably solicited by madame de Chevreuse, who had no equal when it came to drawing the best out of men, Laincourt surprised himself by sparkling in conversation. He proved himself gallant, witty and humorous, finding particular pleasure in entertaining Aude de Saint-Avoid, whose sincere laughter enthralled him. And so their conversation had been following a most pleasant course for more than an hour when the maitre d'hotel brought a note to the duchesse. She read it without blinking, excused herself, rose, promised to return soon and took her leave/

Laincourt's gaze followed her and he caught a glimpse of man in a black cap and black robes who was waiting for her inside the mansion.

'Who is he?' he asked.

'He is the duchesse's master of magic, I believe,' Aude replied. 'But I have not been introduced to him yet.'

Without the duchesse, the conversation lagged a little and they could not count on madame de Jarville to remedy matters: made sleepy by the heat, she drowsed in her chair. The two young people perceived this at the same time, exchanged an amused glance, and stifled mocking laughs.

Madame de Chevreuse soon rejoined them, but only to say that she was going to be detained elsewhere and was entrusting Aude to Laincourt's care.

'Be good,' she said as she left them.

Which was a little like the devil warning them not to sin.

'What if we escaped?' Aude de Saint-Avoid suggested with a rebellious gleam in her eye.

'I beg your pardon, madame?'

'Abduct me. Madame de Chevreuse has placed a coach at my disposal. Let's take it. And go to . . .

Let's go to Le Cours!'

'To Le Cours?'

'What? Isn't that what it's called?'

'Indeed. But . . .'

Le Cours, located near the Saint-Antoine gate, was one of the most popular places for Parisians wishing to take a stroll. Rich or poor, aristocrat or commoner, all went there to promenade, seek distractions or display themselves in public. People chatted, joked or courted one another. They played hide-and-seek or skittles or pall-mall. On fine days, especially, the place was very popular.

The young woman's idea was thus by no means a bad one. But Le Cours was never so crowded