Sense of Touch: Love and Duty at Anne of Brittany's Court

by Rozsa Gaston

  “He may now be ruined from all that adventure abroad and medical book-learning. It will take a patient mistress to harness him to the ways of married life.”

  “Your Majesty, I am such a one. Truly!” Nicole pleaded.

  “You are not patient at all,” the queen scoffed, “but I remember how good you were with Petard.” Her eyes softened at mention of the black stallion.

  “I loved him. He was a fine horse,” Nicole recalled. The queen was right. She wasn’t the patient type. She was the get-it-done type, just like her sovereign queen. Now was the moment to reach for her goal.

  “He was not easy to handle. You were one of the only ones who knew how to manage him. How did you do it?”

  “I used a few tricks, Your Majesty.”

  “Playful ones, I’d wager.”

  “Exactly so, Your Majesty.” She smiled inside to think of the made-up songs she had sung to Petard. Would she ever feel so light-hearted again?

  “Because that is exactly you. I know you, Nicole,” the queen remarked. She extended a gold-bejeweled hand and smoothed down the cloth of Nicole’s headdress. “No one can be what they are not. You are not patient, but playful and full of imagination. You would need your full set of skills to tame a man who has seen the world, yet never felt the bridle of marriage laid on him.”

  “My lady, I am the one for the job. Please say you would bless our match if he, if we—”

  “You want a stable-hand for your second husband?” the queen’s eyes grew wide, boring into hers. It looked as if she was trying to determine whether Nicole really meant her words, or was just acting on romantic impulse.

  “I want Philippe de Bois for my husband. No one else.” Nicole kept her voice clear and strong. She was as sure of what she wanted as she was unsure of whether she would get it. Have courage and be bold. Her father’s words steadied her as she tried to remain calm. Michel St. Sylvain had applied those principles to his business dealings. Her mother had applied them to her healing methods as well as her personal life, the one that had begun before meeting Nicole’s father. Blanche St. Sylvain had seized the reins of her own happiness, and so would Nicole. A ma vie, she intoned silently as Philippe’s image sprang into her mind. He was her life. She wanted him in it forever.

  The queen took a deep breath, and let it out. “I have discovered one other thing,” she continued.

  “What is it, Your Majesty?” She steeled herself for the queen’s response.

  “It seems that your Philippe de Bois is the son of Marguerite de Gascon, whose natural father was a chevalier at the court of Gascoigne.”

  “Madame, do you mean Philippe is of noble lineage?” A tingle shot up Nicole’s back.

  “On the wrong side of the sheets, ma chère. You know what I mean, do you not?” The queen gave her a level look.

  Nicole tried to match her gaze. “Yes, Your Majesty, I do.” How well she knew.

  But the king has studied the situation,” the queen continued, “and . . .”

  “And?” Nicole grasped the knotted cord of the belt she wore, as if it were a lifeline. Was Anne of Brittany, Queen of France, now tossing her one?

  “And, due to the great love he feels for the princess and the physician’s help in saving her life, he has decided . . .” The queen paused and looked at Nicole gravely. Despite her severity, the twinkle in her eye made Nicole’s heart leap.

  “Your Majesty, tell me!”

  “. . . to award your Philippe the title of Chevalier de Bois, and offer him a position here as assistant court physician.”

  “My queen!” Her sovereign had worked on her behalf. When Anne of Brittany, Queen of France, threw her weight to a project, it got done.

  “I can’t stand the one we already have, so it would be good to bring on someone we trust. A man who has worked with horses will be far more valuable than any of those quacks with their heads stuck in books,” the queen went on.

  “Your Majesty, does this mean you give your permission for us to marry if he is so inclined?”

  “He helped you save my child. You may have him.” The queen’s smile was warm, melting Nicole’s heart.

  “Your Majesty, thank you!” She held out both hands to her sovereign, palms up.

  “Don’t thank me; thank my daughter for bringing him to you.” The queen took Nicole’s hands in hers and squeezed.

  “I do, Your Majesty. I do! And if ever we have another daughter, we shall name her after you,” Nicole burst out. She was beside herself with happiness.

  The queen stared at Nicole a moment, a curious expression on her face. Finally, she released her hands and spoke. “Are you not thinking of having a son one of these days?”

  “I shall have daughters as long as you have them, Your Majesty.” I shall have whatever comes with my one true love.

  “Fine. You already have a grown-up boy to train, and that should be quite enough. Now go and let him know you have our blessing.”

  “Your Majesty, I shall wait to see what his offer is before I give him such good news,” Nicole said, overjoyed, but remembering her dignity.

  The queen put her hand on Nicole’s shoulder and squeezed it tenderly. “My dear, his offer is already in. Our king gave him the news of his knighthood last night. After thanking him, the Chevalier de Bois asked for permission to seek your hand. I told him if you were willing to take on an untrained man at your age, you could have him. He is waiting to hear from you now.”

  “My lady, I will go to him and hear his words. None will pass my lips until he proposes.”

  “You are a clever one, ma chère. No wonder your stable-boy could not forget you. You played coy with him, as you did Petard, and made him come to you, did you not?”

  “Perhaps I did, my lady.” It hadn’t been intentional. It had been as spontaneous and genuine as first love always was. And now love’s never-quenched embers had sparked into flame again.

  “One other thing,” the queen added.

  “Yes, Your Majesty?”

  “You neglected to tell me that you had already begun work on a family with your Philippe.”

  “I neglected—I did—how did you . . .” Nicole felt her face flushing red, as red as it had ever flushed before.

  The queen’s eyes twinkled. “If ever we have another daughter . . .” she intoned, repeating Nicole’s words.

  “Did I say that?” Nicole stammered, helpless in the face of her queen’s penetrating gaze. “What was I thinking?”

  The queen’s laugh trilled through the December air, warming all around her. She put her hand up to Nicole’s face and stroked her cheek.

  “You were not thinking at all, my dear. You were feeling your heart’s desire coming true.”

  “I —you—but—”

  The queen placed one slim finger on Nicole’s lips, silencing her. Her smile told Nicole nothing more needed to be said.

  “Go find your stallion and make him behave.” Anne of Brittany, Queen of France, dismissed her with a regal hand then walked away. This time, with no limp.

  BIBLIOGRAPHY

  Brock, Emma L, Little Duchess. Eau Claire, Wisconsin: E.M. Hale and Company, 1948.

  Butler, Mildred Allen, Twice Queen of France: Anne of Brittany. New York: Funk & Wagnalls, 1967.

  Chevalier, Tracy, The Lady and the Unicorn. New York: Plume, 2005.

  Cushman, Karen, Matilda Bone. New York: Dell Yearling, 2000.

  Davis, William Stearns, Life on a Mediaeval Barony. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1923.

  De la Warr, Countess, Constance, A Twice Crowned Queen. London: Eveleigh Nash, 1906.

  Eco, Umberto, The Name of the Rose. New York: Harcourt, 1994.

  Greco, Gina L. & Rose, Christine M., translated by, The Good Wife’s Guide: Le Ménagier de Paris, A Medieval Household Book. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 2009.

  Gregory, Philippa, The Lady of the Rivers. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2011.

  Jogournel, Thierry, Anne de Bretagne: Du Duché au Royaume. Rennes: Éditi
ons OUEST-FRANCE, 2014.

  Michael, of Kent, Princess, Her Royal Highness, The Serpent and the Moon. New York: Touchstone, 2004.

  Morison, Samuel Eliot, Admiral of the Ocean Sea: A Life of Christopher Columbus. New York: Little, Brown and Company, 1942.

  Reed, Joseph J., Anne of Brittany: A Historical Sketch. New York: Graham’s American Monthly Magazine of Literature, Art, and Fashion, June 1858.

  Sanborn, Helen Josephine, Anne of Brittany, The Story of a Duchess and Twice-Crowned Queen. Memphis: General Books, 2012.

  Siraisi, Nancy G., Medieval and Early Renaissance Medicine: An Introduction to Knowledge and Practice. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990.

  Tanguy, Geneviève-Morgane, Sur les pas de Anne de Bretagne. Rennes: Éditions OUEST-FRANCE, 2015.

  Tourault, Philippe, Anne de Bretagne. Paris: Perrin, 2014.

  Tuchman, Barbara W., A Distant Mirror. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1978.

  Vieil-Castel, Alex., Je Suis . . . Anne de Bretagne. Paris: Hoche Communication S.A.S., 2015.

  BOOK CLUB DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. Which relationship shapes Nicole’s life more: her love for Philippe or her love for Anne of Brittany, Queen of France?

  2. What do you think was the property in the moldy bread that helped heal first the queen’s stallion and then her infant daughter, Princess Claude?

  3. How is the tug between love and duty managed by the ladies of honor of the court of Anne of Brittany, Queen of France? How do they support each other in managing their private lives versus public ones?

  4. What do you think contributed to the queen’s repeated pregnancy failures and childbirth losses?

  5. How was the first year of life handled differently in the 1490s than it is today?

  6. What qualities did Anne of Brittany, Queen of France, possess to renew her hopes each time one of her children died?

  7. What role does Marie de Volonté play in Nicole’s life? How are the two women alike? How are they dissimilar?

  8. A ma vie, “to my life,” is Anne of Brittany, Queen of France’s, motto. What is its meaning?

  9. Do we ultimately know who the father of Blanche is: Gerard d’Orléans or Philippe de Bois? Does it matter?

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Deepest thanks to Atessa Helm, Annette and Alexa Jackson, Maddie Graham, Leslie Prentice Henry, Kim Huther, Beverley Piturro, and Allison Roesser for their critical feedback, and unflagging passion for Sense of Touch. And to Leslie M. Ficcaglia, talented portraitist and Catherine Delloue for their artistic eyes. Without you this tale would not have reached readers. Thanks also to Jamie Abruzzo, Yewande Akintelu-Omoniyi, Pat Andres, Jina Bacarr, Dawn R. Bacso, Yvonne Muciek Baker, Zsuzsanna Ballai, Gloria Balogh, Jan Bandura, Rick Bannerot, Devra Barrett, Karina Bravo, Magdi Bukovec, Brandon Bluhm, Alma Caparas, Rachel Carr, David Cascino, Renee Victoria Corl, Margi Aranyos Coles, Elizabeth Csordas, Emilie Davis, Melissa Thomas DiPlacido, Gregory and Paula Nagy, Ilona Kimberley Nagy, Ramona Calin, Remy Cook, Barbara Crawford, William Daley, Catherine Delloue, Gabriela Donescu, Andrea Eckerle, Elizabeth Fisher, Donna Ford, Linda Fuller, Candy Fryer, Sofia Gabor, Dennis Gagomiros, David Gibbs, Eshe Gimbya, Barbara Goldberg, Judy Green, Cynthia Gyurgic, Heidi Hadwick, Carolyn Hahn, Heidi Hamilton, Judy Kekes Harden, Ashley Harris, Linda Hanf Higgens, Craig Hart, Amora Nigella Hawthorne, Cricket Iceblade, Karen Jablonsky, Shannon Hall Jones, Matt Kachur, Ariana Csonka Kaleta, Susan Karpati, Fran Kimberley-Ironside, Elizabeth Kiraly, Gordon Little, Rebecca Lowry, Clarissa Marie, Anne Martine, Argelie Ponce, Thomas Pozsgay, Mary Wirth, Paula Crewe, Maria Urban, Jena Rose Johnson, Meg Kaicher, Tony Kayoumi, Vera King, Ilona Kiss, Istvan Kolnhofer, Rita la Rosa, Karen Leger, Dominic Lombardo, Debra Olivera Lopes, Farie Makuto, Angela Manassy McGraham, Dana Mattson, Kathleen McBrien, Sean Moore, Ilona Kimberley Nagy, Romy Nordlinger, David Quinn, Toby Oliver, Gretchen Pingel, Susie Piturro, Erica de Pool, Andrea Rafael, Marilyn Roos, Ashlyn Ross, Kellie Rush, Laurence Siegel, Kevin Shelton-Smith, Wendy Sigurdson, Monica Bella Slonaker, Nan Smith, Joy Stocke, Mandi Sussman, Emma Szalay, Catherine Thomas, Dorothy Thompson, Edith Annette Torres, Nicole Tuck, Shon Tyler, Susan Unger, Maria M. Varga, Antonio Varrenti, Margaret Vitrano, Peggy Wager, Liz Weidlich, Diane Whitmore, Victoria Winter, Barbara Wisdom, Allison Wolf, Amy Wolf, Easter Yi, Magda Zentai, Kata Zwiefel.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Rozsa Gaston writes playful books on serious matters, including the struggles women face to get what they want out of life. In addition to Sense of Touch she is the author of Paris Adieu, Black is Not a Color, Running from Love, Dog Sitters, and Lyric.

  Gaston studied European intellectual history at Yale and received her masters in international affairs from Columbia.

  Gaston has worked as a singer and pianist all over the world. After leaving the entertainment industry she worked at Institutional Investor, then as a hedge funds marketer. She lives in Bronxville, New York, with her family and is currently working on Anne of Brittany: Girl Who Ruled a Country, the sequel to Sense of Touch.

  Gaston can be found online on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/rozsagastonauthor, or at her website, http://www.rozsagaston.com/. Her motto? Stay playful.

  EXCERPT FROM THE SEQUEL TO Sense of Touch

  CHAPTER ONE

  Duchess of

  Brittany, Age 11

  “THE DUKE IS dead; long live the Duchess,” rang from the courtyard below as the two girls watched from the balcony of the castle of Coiron. They looked at each other, the older one grave, the younger offering a wan smile to her sister.

  “You are the Duchess now, Anne. What will you do?” Isabeau asked, her pale face tight with worry. A tear inched down her cheek.

  “I will rule, of course. As Papa would have wanted. And Maman too.” The older girl brushed away her sister’s tear then straightened herself as she turned to face the group gathering below. Her pointed chin jutted out as she held herself high.

  Raising a small white hand, she stepped forward and acknowledged the men, women, and children below, craning their necks to catch sight of their new ruler.

  The roar of allegiance that went up pleased her, despite her grief. She nodded to the crowd, acutely aware that however she presented herself to the people of Brittany in these first days after her father’s death would be pivotal to ensure their support.

  It wasn’t hard to ask for it. She loved the Breton people, their hardy, indomitable and honest spirit. Gladly, she would guide them as their leader. If only the nobles in between her and her people could curb their fighting and unite to repel the French invaders.

  Her father’s position had not been particularly strong in the last years of his reign; neither had that of any of the other nobles jockeying for position to challenge him. But Anne, as Duke Francis’s eldest child was the only one legally invested with the succession of Brittany; therein lay her advantage. She would make sure the common people were reminded again and again of her legal claim to rule the land so that they would support her. Her tools would be her royal bearing as well as her love for them. Her arms would be her ability to enlist the nobles loyal to Brittany to bear arms for her. Otherwise, her Duchy would be swallowed up by its larger, more powerful neighbor France.

  To begin, she would stand tall and show her people their new ruler: no tears, no sad face. She would work out the rest step by step.

  Her expression regal, Anne slowly backed into the room, careful to tiptoe on her right foot. No one must see her limp; no one would. Her father had taught her to carefully conceal the limp caused by one of her hipbones resting higher than the other. She had spent enough time accompanying him to meetings with his advisors to know that those just a step removed from power would be the first to pounce at the slightest indication of weakness. There would be none from her.

  Cover image of painting by Anca Visdei, 2013

  ALSO BY ROZSA GASTON

  “With vivid detail and humor, Paris Adieu takes readers straight into the heart of Paris.”

  —Wild River Revie
w

  “A compelling, entertaining, and deftly crafted read from first page to last.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  A “thoughtful romance.”

  —Publishers Weekly