Collected Letters and Adventures of Valmont, Lauzan, etc.

Lauzan sat back in his chair.He lit a cheroot and gazed out over the park with its deer and its chestnut trees, all in their virginal bloom around which bees hovered,and the avenue of limes which led to the gatehouse.He could see Valmont riding towards the chateaux on his favourite bay mare with the minister's wife behind him her arms holding her close.They had been picnicing on the island in the lake since the late morning.
It was now early evening.Lauzan let the letter slip from his fingers onto the floor.Should he show it to his master was what he was debating with himself.
He had heard of the Marquise Isabella de Aidanville and knew she was a clever and resourceful woman.She had married a wealthy banker three times her age who sadly died,the wags said from overstrain,and had inherited his whole fortune though not without a difficult legal tussle with his relations.

Lauzan was used to reading letters from ladies to the Comte.The plaintive wheedling tone of many of them was a source of much amusement to master and servant but this was different.
"Where had they met?",he wondered.The Comte hadn't mentioned it.That in itself was sufficient to arouse his protective instincts.He picked up the sheet of scented paper and scanned it through again noticing the firm hand in the signature which was a simple Isabella.He placed it under a sheaf of bills and other documents,stood up and left the room.

The Lady Isabella de Aidanville was perplexed. Her heart leaden in her chest, she sat at the small cherrywood desk in her library and studied the paper before her, blank but for the fond greeting she had applied. It had been nearly a fortnight since she had last posted a letter to the Comte de Valmont, alerting him to her change of address, and still she had heard nothing. She stood suddenly, crumpling the letter and disposing of it as she had done with the one - nay dozens- before it, by throwing it angrily in the fire. She would not be bound to his follies. She would attend to him, only when he decided to attend to her. She had heard the mindless twitterings of assignations and affairs, but she knew in her heart, they could not be true. The Comte would not betray her by consorting with commoners - and a minister's wife at that. It could not be....but what was she to make of his long silence?
She rose from the chair, smoothed her gown and walked to the window. What was this? There was a horse tied to the post in the drive in front of the house. So lost had she been in her sad reveries that she had not heard the sound of hooves on the gravel, or even noticed that the sky was darkening into twilight. At that moment there was a knock on the door.
The parlor maid, Florie, entered saying, " Madame de Aidanville, you have a visitor. It is the Comte's man, Lauzan". She curtsied and retreated closing the library door behind her.
"Madame de Aidanville," Lauzan began taking her hand and bowing low before her. "It is indeed a pleasure to see you again, and looking so well", his eyes took in her frame with a sweeping glance.
Isabella, momentarily flustered, with the memory of her wanton and desirous thoughts towards this man, simply nodded.
"I have a missive from my master," he spoke quickly, averting his eyes and coughing. "Your letter had been misplaced on his desk. He found it just this morning, and answered you straight away. He sent me here by horse to deliver it. He handed the letter to her, his fingers lightly brushing hers as she took it.
She opened it, her own fingers trembling with nervous suspense and began reading.

My dearest Isabella - I know that you may have suffered much confusion in this intervening fortnight of inexcusable silence on my part. But I want you to be assured that what I now pen is nothing but the barest truth...I

am well aware of the lies and scurrilous gossip my enemies spread abroad concerning my character.That I am a cynic of the worst sort.That I corrupt and despoil innocent young virgins and ruin their prospects.One would think I was the very Devil himself if these people are to be believed which they are not.
For the last few weeks I have been in retreat in the monastry at St Julpien which,as you may know,requires its residents to lead an austere and blameless lifestyle.My confessor there has explained the pitfalls,which are many,of succumbing to the temptations which can be put in the way of a young man in my station and condition by wealthy ladies of leisure.In fact Father Hilarion and myself discussed the matter in great detail.He is,after all,the most popular confessor in the countryside around St Julpien,which contains many excellent residences, and is therefore something of an expert in these delicate matters."

The Marquise laid the letter on her knees and gazed at Lauzan who had in his whole demeanour,not least on his face,an expression of resigned simplicity and endless patience.

"Have you dined?" she asked him soothingly.

"Not since late last night Madame",he replied passing the brim of his hat through his fingers.
"I have ridden 40 miles to bring you my master's letter and he instructed me to stop for nothing until I had delivered it safely into your hands."

"Where is he now?" she asked him hesitantly as she rang the bell to summon a maid.

"He was on his knees in the chapel when I left him praying fervently for the strength to serve God and our great nation", Lauzan replied without a blink over his grey fathomless eyes which gazed at her guilelessly.

"He has applied to the minister,with whom he is not without influence,to take command of a squadron on the frontier where our foes are engaging in threatening manoeuvres",he went on.

The Marquise's face drained of all colour.

As she sought desperately to regain her composure the maid entered.

"Ah-Stephanie",Isabella almost gasped,"escort this gentleman to the servan't quarters and see that he is fed and refreshed and tell the groom to see to his horse".

"Yes Madame",the maid replied adding a deft curtsy."Follow me",she said to Lauzan who followed behind with a surprisingly jaunty step.

When the door had closed the Marquise began to read Valmont's letter again but she could not concentrate as she attempted to assimilate the intelligence Lauzan had given her.

She got up and walked over to the window and....

pulled back the heavy velvet curtain. She watched in silence as Lauzan walked across the cobblestoned courtyard to the door of the carriage house which housed the servants' quarters on it's upper level. She could not help but notice the impressive breadth of his shoulders as they strained the thin fabric of his shirt, or the muscled forearm that reached for the handle of the door, or the large hand that grasped the knob firmly and pulled it open. She sighed and shook her head, "What was the matter with her? This man was base and crude, certainly a most unsuitable partner for a high-born and refined woman such as herself. But could she be blamed for harboring such secret desires? She was still a young, healthy woman. Was the unfortunate fact of her untimely widowhood destined to mean the end of love and passion for her?" She continued to watch silently as a gas lantern lit a single window in the upper story of the carriage house. Suddenly, Lauzan stood before the window, and as she watched, removed his shirt. A single tear trailed from her lovely dark eye and down her cheek. At that moment there was a cursory knock at the door, and Florie entered.
Isabella let the curtain drop and wiping her hand swiftly across her cheek she turned to greet her.
"Mister Lauzan is comfortably settled. The grooms have seen to his horse and I have had the boy deliver water for his bath. Should I tell cook to set an extra plate in the kitchen? I'm sure you will have him sup with us", she spoke assuredly.
Lady Isabella spoke quietly but firmly with her usual gentle authority. "No, Mister Lauzan will be dining with me - in the dining room. Tell cook to have a fire laid, and the table set for two."

The room into which Lauzan had been shown was comfortable without any sign of ostentation.A bare polished wood floor and freshly painted white walls and ceiling.There were pictures of hunting scenes and a finely executed portrait of Isabella hung opposite the large ,firm bed onto which he subsided with a sigh.He gazed at the portrait and fell asleep.

But Stephanie suddenly entered and woke him.He watched her from under hooded lids as she fussed about with the jugs of fresh water she had brought and he noticed how carefully she arranged them on the chest of drawers.He also noticed that the top three buttons of her corsage were undone as she familiarly adjusted his pillows and,with a faint smile playing around her mouth and one eyebrow slightly raised she asked him if he wished to take a bath.

He reached out and taking her by the wrist he roughly pulled her towards him.

"What does your Lady want of the Comte?",he asked,piercing her with his unremitting gaze.
"It is voiced abroad that she eats young innocents like my master for breakfast.What is she up to?"

"I', I'm sure I don't know... Please sir, unhand me. You are hurting me."
She pulled her wrist out of his grasp and stood absently rubbing her arm as he continued to affix her with his piercing gaze.
Her voice breaking, she continued, "I am sure you are sorely mistaken in your assesmment of my mistress. I can only tell you the truth of what I have come to know of her. She is the sweetest, kindest, most gentle mistress that any maidservant could hope to meet the needs of. I have no idea where you would have heard such cruelly deceptive stories about her or her reputation. She would no sooner ravage a man, than she would eat a dog. She comports herself in a manner that is above reproach. I have never witnessed another woman whose behavior is so honestly pure. Your insinuations are offensive, and I will hear no more of them."
She spun on her heel and walked quickly through the door, only glancing back once, almost fearing that he would accost her physically once again.
Walking down the steps to the ground floor of the carriage house, she could be heard mumbling to herself, "The man is an animal. He is not in full possession of his faculties. Mistress must be warned..."

After she had gone Lauzan lay back staring at the ceiling.Eventually he again fell asleep.

He was awakened by a timid tapping on the door.He took out his watch and glanced at it before saying,
"Come in".
A young maidservant entered.
"My mistress wishes you to join her in the dining room.She has had a place laid for you for dinner.Will you please follow me?"
"What's your name my little chuckle? he asked her sweetly.
"Aurora" she replied lowering her soft eyes and blushing slightly."Will you come now please."
"Give me a few minutes" he replied,"my mouth tastes like an arab's armpit."
With that he reached down into his bag and fetched out a bottle of clear brown liquid from which he took a medium sized slug,gargled loudly and swallowed.
"That's better",he said,"would you like some Aurora? he asked smiling and holding the bottle out towards her.
"Oh no sir",she said shuddering slightly before going across to the window and adjusting the curtains."Dinner is at eight o'clock and it must be nearly that now."
"There's no hurry.Come here my dear" he said tenderly,"let me have a look at you."
She shyly approached the bed as Lauzan took a small gold coin from his waistcoat pocket and began flipping in the air.
"You are very pretty" he said.
She blushed a deep crimson and Lauzan roared with laughter.
"Now", he said,"tell me my sweetie,where was your mistress last weekend?Were you with her?"
"Yes.She was at the chateux of The Marquis de Bressingnac" she replied,recovering her composure a little.
"Was she indeed?" he said in a sinister tone to himself.
He got off the bed,stood beside her,spun her round,clasped her pert breasts in his hands,goosed her and held the coin near the tip of her nose.
"Two more if you come tonight when the house is asleep,"he said,and with that he hooked his finger into her dress,pulled it out from her body and dropped the coin into the space.
"Right-dinner"he said,"I could eat a scabby donkey.Lead the way".
As she went towards the door Lauzan picked a hair off his head and laid it carefully across the top of his bag and they left the room which had no lock.

(See, I told you what it needed was comic relief - good job)

The pretty maid walked before him, down the stairs and across the cobbled courtyard. Lauzan watched appreciatively as her hips swayed rhythmically before him. He only lifted his eyes to watch his footing on the steps that led to the front door.
"Hmmm..", he thought to himself. "She is leading me through the front door and not through the kitchen as would be more usual and fitting for a man of my station." He was puzzled and unsure of what meaning to attach to this unexpected turn of events.
They walked through massive, oaken double doors and entered a cavernous, flagstoned entryway. It was brightly lit by an immense chandelier that illuminated the entire space. They crossed to the large round table situated directly beneath the chandelier and she bid him wait there. The intoxicating scent from a large bouquet of roses and lillies and the utter beauty and peacefulness of the room carressed his senses and lulled him into an almost dream-like state. He came to with a start when he heard his name being spoken in what seemed to him to be the voice of an angel.
"Monsier Lauzan, " madam spoke as she walked toward him, "I trust you have had your needs seen to and are properly refreshed." She smiled, and added, "If you will follow me, we will now see that your need for nourishment is met as well."
She led him down a short hallway and into the dining room. The room was large, but not overly so, and well appointed. A fire burned happily in the corner. It was early April, and Spring had only recently begun her assent, so the evenings could still be cool. Heavy, wine-colored curtains were drawn against the dark and cold that were closing in as twilight subsided and gave way to night. A long, low table occupied the center of the room, situated on a rug whose subtle wash of color and plush weave bespoke comfort, and quiet luxury. He noticed the table was set for two.
Aromatic steam arose from covered silver dishes placed on the large, heavy sideboard. He realized suddenly how hungry he was - it had been hours since he had last eaten his meager lunch of stale bread that had been brushed with the thinnest layer of butter.
Lady Isabella motioned him to the table and indicated the seat where he was to sit with her outstretched hand.
"Please, be seated," she spoke gently, indicating the chair nearest the fire, whose pleasing warmth was slowly suffusing the room.
He rounded the table to where she stood. Pulling out her own chair, he spoke quietly, "After you, m'lady."