Twilight of a Queen

by Susan Carroll

  She knew she ought to try to get some rest herself. She was exhausted, but she could not even close her eyes. A light knock sounded on the door and Xavier appeared, bearing a tray of bread, cheese, and wine.

  Jane thanked him, but shook her head. “I have no appetite.”

  “You must try to eat something, Jane. You have hardly taken a morsel all day. At least try some of the wine.”

  To please him, she took a sip. She ran her hand self-consciously through the ends of her hair that was half tumbling out of its chignon.

  “I must look a terrible fright.”

  “You always look beautiful to me,” he murmured.

  She managed a wan smile. “Yes, but we both know what a gifted liar you are.”

  “Not about everything,” he chuckled, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear.

  Her gaze locked with his. “Please tell me the truth, Xavier. What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?”

  “I have no idea,” he admitted. “The duke and the king appear to be at an impasse, but they must come to terms eventually. We just have to wait it out. I am sure we will come through this unscathed.”

  “If we do, it will be no thanks to me.” Jane paced away from him, rubbing her arms. “It is my fault we are trapped here. I was the one who insisted we return for Abby You may feel quite free to tell me ‘I told you so.’”

  “It would be far more fitting if you hurled those words at me. Pietro, Jambe, and you all warned me about practicing my tricks on Catherine de Medici. But I was so damned sure of myself, I wouldn’t listen. I completely underestimated the woman.”

  He sighed. “If de Guise had not arrived when he did, we would both be prisoners of the Dark Queen and she would be preparing to launch an attack on Meg and Faire Isle as well.”

  The candlelight reflected in his eyes, dark with self-reproach. “I was unbelievably stupid, reckless, and foolhardy.”

  “But incredibly brave. You didn’t take such a risk for personal gain. You were trying to put things right for Meg and everyone on Faire Isle.”

  “Yes, but—” He was silent for a moment. “I don’t think I did it for Meg or even my sisters.

  “I did it to impress you, Jane,” he said, his voice as intense as his eyes. “When you learned the truth that day on Faire Isle, I could not bear the disappointment I saw on your face. I had grown too accustomed to that soft light that would steal into your eyes whenever you looked at me.” He swallowed. “Even though I know I do not deserve your approbation, I crave it like the air that I breathe.”

  Jane gazed wonderingly up at him. “But why? Why would my opinion matter so much to you?”

  “Because I love you, you little fool.”

  Jane blinked. She had never expected to hear him say such a thing, but how like Xavier to fling the words at her in such blunt fashion in the middle of a revolution.

  She started to laugh, but her emotions overflowed in a gush of tears instead. He wiped her cheeks with his knuckles.

  “There, there, my dear, I think I would weep myself to learn that I was to be burdened with the heart of such a scoundrel. Never mind. You may still tell me to go to the devil.”

  But Jane hurled herself at him instead, burying her face against his chest. He cradled her close, kissing the top of her head.

  “Oh, Jane,” he murmured against her hair. “I tried to stay away from you, knowing you would be the better for it. All you ever wanted to be was safe, respectable.”

  “No,” she said. “I realize I want so much more than that. I—I want to feel bursting with life when I awake each morning. I want days filled with wonder, excitement, and surprise. I want you.”

  “I am glad to hear that because I am just too damned selfish to leave you again.”

  She sniffed, managing to smile through her tears. She shifted her head to look up at him. “Then I hope you will always continue to be so selfish.”

  “You may count upon it, my lady. I am a villain through and through.”

  He proceeded to prove it by kissing her in a ruthless way no respectable man ever would, his tongue breaching her lips, plundering her mouth until she was breathless.

  It was only now when she was back in his arms, that she acknowledged the pain of these past weeks, how she had felt bruised and bleeding inside as though a part of her had gone missing.

  Swept up in his embrace, she was whole again, as if after being lost, she was back where she belonged. The threat of the Dark Queen, the possibility of revolution—all for the moment was forgotten.

  Kissing and caressing, they tumbled feverishly into bed, impatiently thrusting clothing aside, making love as though it were both for the first and very last time.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  CATHERINE KEPT CLEAR OF THE WINDOWS FOR FEAR OF ANY stray pistol shot or even an intentional one. The conflict between Paris and the king had resumed with the break of day. Catherine wondered if there would be anything left of the city after many more days of this, but she felt too wearied to even curse her son.

  Henry had always been weak and given to vacillation. When the man did decide to take action, why must it always be the wrong one?

  She had warned him not to bring the Swiss Guard into Paris, although for a brief moment it had seemed Henry might gain the upper hand.

  But the citizenry of Paris had been strangely well prepared for the king’s maneuver, hemming the royal troops in with their crude barricades.

  There was only one man now who could bring this madness to a halt. But the duc de Guise sat at the conference table, calmly cleaning his nails, waiting for her to comment on his list of demands.

  They were ridiculous of course. Catherine glanced down at the paper in her hands. De Guise was to be appointed lieutenant general of France. The king’s cousin and nearest male relative, the Huguenot King of Navarre, was to be excluded from the succession.

  Worse still, Henry was to dismiss all his favorites from holding office and his private guard was to be disbanded.

  Catherine was fully prepared to set her seal to the agreement. Her motto had always been to promise anything that bought one another day to scheme and retaliate. But she knew Henry would never be that reasonable. He would sooner die and take her down in the process.

  Catherine perused the document, hedging for time, when a messenger rushed into the room.

  One of the duke’s men, he bowed to de Guise, barely acknowledging Catherine’s presence.

  “My lord. The king—” The man panted too hard to get out the rest of his words.

  Catherine’s heart stopped, fearing the worst, that in his rage and grief over the situation, Henry might have done something desperate, like fall upon his sword.

  What the messenger finally blurted out was nearly as bad. “The—the king is gone. He has fled, escaped from Paris.”

  Catherine reeled in shock, the duke’s demands fluttering from her hands. She had always thought her son weak and erratic, but even she had never believed Henry was such a coward that he would abandon his throne, his city, his friends. Worse still, that he would abandon his mother, leave her to the mercy of their greatest enemy.

  As de Guise rose to his feet, Catherine braced herself for the duke’s fury. No doubt he would think Catherine was behind this, that her negotiations with him had all been a pretense to allow the king to escape.

  But all de Guise said was, “I had best ride out and do what I can to placate the populace. I fear the Parisians will see this as a further sign of the king’s treachery and not take his defection well.”

  As the duke bowed and left her, Catherine watched him go, torn between amazement and suspicion. The duke and his supporters had Paris well barricaded, completely under their control.

  How could Henry have managed to escape unless… unless de Guise had allowed him to do so? The duke had never had any intention of allowing this rebellion to surge out of control, to go so far as to completely depose the king.

  Then what had been the purpose behind all
this madness? Catherine could not fathom it, but she did not waste much effort trying.

  All she knew was that her son’s cowardice appeared to have furnished her with what she desperately needed. The king’s troops were now hers to command. She would have more than enough men to march against Faire Isle and to take care of her other problem. Xavier. The Jaguar would not escape her this time.

  XAVIER STIRRED AWAKE AT THE SOUND OF PIETRO KNOCKING at the bedchamber door. He gently shifted Jane out of his arms. She was so exhausted, he was loath to wake her until absolutely necessary. He hastened to dress before joining Pietro in the hall beyond.

  The tall native looked exhausted. Xavier buckled on his sword preparing to relieve Pietro of his turn at guard. They headed down the stairs so their voices would not carry and disturb Jane.

  “Any sign of trouble last night? Did anyone attempt to approach the house?” Xavier demanded.

  “No, Captain, I would have roused you. All was quiet after midnight. We heard some gunfire early this morning and then—”

  “And then?” Xavier prompted when Pietro hesitated.

  “And then nothing. Jambe ventured out into the street for a look.” Pietro’s brow furrowed with an expression of unease and puzzlement. “It is the strangest turn of events I could have ever imagined. You had best come see for yourself, Captain.”

  Xavier joined his two men in stealing through the garden. As they neared the scene of yesterday’s battle, Xavier braced himself, scarce knowing what sort of aftermath of violence and carnage to expect.

  The sight that met his eyes caused Xavier to slowly expel his breath in amazement. It was almost as though the turmoil of yesterday had never happened. The last of the barricade was being removed, rubble carted away.

  Some of the merchants were even opening their shops, Parisians going about their business, returning to their normal tasks of the day.

  “What the devil?” Xavier murmured. He became aware that he had awakened Jane after all. She had dressed and followed him from the house. As she approached, Xavier draped his arm about her shoulders and drew her closer.

  She gazed about her looking as bewildered as Xavier and his men.

  “Is—is it over?” she asked.

  “Damned if I know.” Xavier saw a mounted rider passing by. The man’s livery marked him as one of the duke’s men.

  “You there!” Xavier called out. “What’s happened? Has the conflict been resolved?”

  The horseman reined in long enough to grin down at Xavier. “What conflict? There was never much of a battle as far as I am concerned. The cowardly king has turned tail and fled the city.”

  “Fled? So de Guise has claimed the throne?”

  The duke’s man looked affronted. “No, my noble master is no traitor to the crown. He has been riding out over the city all morning, calming the people and urging them to return to their homes. This was all nothing but an unfortunate misunderstanding.”

  The man rode off, leaving Xavier gaping after him. A misunderstanding? Jane looked confused, Pietro thoughtful, and Jambe angry.

  “So there is not going to be any revolution?” The old man sounded almost disappointed. He tore off his cap and flung it down upon the street. “Then what was the point of getting a man all lathered up and alarmed, scaring the wits out of all of us for nothing?”

  “Not for nothing. The duke’s arrival did provide the diversion Xavier needed to escape,” Jane reminded Jambe with a smile.

  “Yes,” Xavier began when the realization struck him with all the force of a cudgel.

  “The diversion,” he muttered, and let loose a long string of curses. When the others stared at him, Xavier explained impatiently, “Don’t you understand? All those barricades that went up so swiftly and were so well placed. This so-called uprising was cleverly planned. This was it, the diversion that the duke promised the king of Spain. With Henry on the run, driven from Paris, there is no way he could ever send any aid to England.”

  Jane paled. “So then you think that the armada—”

  “Has already set sail for England, yes. I am sorry, my love.”

  Jambe reached down to retrieve his cap with fingers that trembled. “I have to leave, Captain. I have to get home.”

  Xavier nodded. “You go, Jambe, and take Pietro with you.”

  Pietro scowled. “But what of you, Captain?”

  “I have to look after my lady. We must get back to Faire Isle and take warning to Ariane. One of the unfortunate consequences of this uprising being over is that the Dark Queen will now be free to carry out her plans.”

  There was no time for long farewells or sentimental good-byes. Jane bestowed hugs on both of his men. Xavier contented himself with hearty handclasps and gruff wishes for their safe journey.

  Back at the house, he sent Jane to gather up a few belongings and to make arrangements for Violette. It seemed that the girl had a friend who could help her to other employment, but Jane insisted upon furnishing the maid with a letter of character.

  As Xavier ranged about the hall, waiting, his mind flooded with remembrance of all the passionate and tender embraces he and Jane had shared last night. Once more they had made love in the heat and madness of the moment. But this time Xavier swore he would give her no cause to regret it.

  Considering that his machinations with Catherine had only worsened the situation, Xavier was unsure of his welcome back on Faire Isle. But if Ariane could be persuaded to forgive him, perhaps he and Jane could be married on the island—

  Xavier’s thoughts were disrupted when the door to the house crashed open. Lost in his musings, he was slow to react. Several men swarmed in, led by a familiar figure, the guard whose nose Xavier had broken.

  He eyed Xavier with a vengeful gleam. “So Monsieur le Jaguar, the queen feared you might have been wily enough to slip out of Paris, but it appears you were not so clever.”

  Xavier swore and started to draw his sword. He only had it halfway out of his scabbard before the men fell upon him. He lashed out, leveling one of them with a blow to the jaw.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jane appear on the stairs. “Run, Jane,” he bellowed.

  To his horror, she charged down the stairs instead, wielding a poker in an effort to come to his aid. Xavier felt the butt of a musket strike against his temple.

  He reeled from the blow, dropping to his knees, black webs dancing before his eyes. He felt the warm gush of blood down his cheek as he fell to the floor.

  “Jane,” he rasped.

  The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the poker being wrestled out of her hand.

  THE HÔTEL DE LA REINE WAS IN A FLURRY OF ACTIVITY, servants bustling in preparation for the queen’s departure. The king had taken refuge at Blois Castle and a meeting of the Estates General had been summoned, another attempt to make peace between His Majesty and the duc de Guise.

  Catherine expected little from it. Her son’s cowardly actions had left him completely impotent. He would have to accede to every one of the duke’s demands if he wanted to keep his crown.

  Her only source of satisfaction was the report that Catherine had received from Captain Arnaud. The man had managed to redeem himself by capturing Xavier and the Englishwoman.

  Catherine had issued commands that both of them should be transported to the castle at Blois. She had no time to confront or question her captives, no time to lay any careful plans, no time to do anything but dispatch troops to Faire Isle.

  She examined her precious vial, which was now empty. She could already feel the strength she had acquired from Megaera’s powerful elixir beginning to fade.

  Her time was ebbing along with it. This was her last and final gambit. She must capture the Silver Rose or die.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  THE HOUSE OF BELLE HAVEN WAS SILENT AT SUCH A LATE hour. Meg had the melancholy sensation that she was the only one awake in the entire world. Never had she felt so alone.

  Her devoted servant Agatha Butterydo
or snored softly on her pallet next to Meg’s bed. Keeping a careful eye on the old woman, Meg bent down and retrieved the modest bundle of belongings she had stowed beneath her bed earlier that day.

  She paused to gaze down at Aggie, fearing she was about to break the elderly woman’s heart by disappearing in this fashion. But she could not even risk planting a farewell kiss on Aggie’s withered cheek.

  Meg tiptoed from the room, an ache in her chest. She had known so much happiness here at Belle Haven. It had indeed proved a haven, a rare thing in Meg’s brief life. When she left here tonight, she would never see this house again.

  Rumors had flocked to Faire Isle like a bevy of dark-winged ravens. Travelers to the island, merchants, sailors, had carried warnings of a troop of soldiers that had been seen on the march, cutting a swath through Brittany.

  The reports had stirred up alarm and panic on Faire Isle that had never been far from the surface since Xavier’s treachery had been exposed. The women on the island, especially those who remembered the witch raids of a decade ago, trembled in terror of a fresh assault.

  Ariane as ever remained a beacon of calm. Meg was one of the few who realized how worried the Lady of Faire Isle was. Ariane had spent many hours in late-night consultations with her husband since his return to the island.

  Justice Deauville went about quietly seeking to strengthen the island’s defenses, recruiting men to help patrol the island. No matter what he did, Meg knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

  Everywhere Meg went, she saw fear and resentment in the eyes that turned her way. Meg could not blame them. She had been named the next Lady of Faire Isle. Her sacred task should be to protect the women of this island, not bring destruction upon them.

  There was only one way she could avoid that, by taking a fearsome action that would leave her unfit to be the Lady of Faire Isle forever. But Meg could not think too much about what lay ahead of her or she would lose her courage entirely.