Threads of Silk

by Linda Lee Chaikin

  “Monsieurs, England — Scotland — I do not understand.”

  “It is simple,” Chantonnay said in a whisper. “I will share a secret because my king has confidence in you. The heretic usurper of the English throne, Elizabeth Tudor, will not remain queen. Soon, she will be deposed through war with Spain. When she is removed, who should be the new queen?”

  Prince Antoine’s eyes began to show excitement.

  Duc de Guise said, “It is our blood niece who will be Queen of England and Scotland, our belle Mary Stuart.”

  “Sire, now do you see what wondrous opportunities my sovereign offers for your future?” Chantonnay nodded. “If you divorce the heretical Jeanne, marriage with the Guise niece, Mary, Queen of Scots, is possible.”

  Antoine raised a hand to his forehead. “Yes . . . yes, I understand now.”

  “How Mary continues to grieve for the loss of France,” the cardinal said. “How she pleads with us to arrange for some marriage in order to return to the land she cares about. All of this, sire, is possible for you —and our Mary.”

  “How true. And all you need do is take this beautiful island of Sardinia, become a Catholic, and divorce Jeanne,” Chantonnay explained.

  “Bonne fortune smiles upon you,” Cardinal de Lorraine said with a smile.

  “I should say it does,” the duc said.

  “The triple crown is held out to you on a silver platter,” Chantonnay persisted.

  “And do not forget France,” the cardinal said. “Glorious France. As a Bourbon of the royal blood, you are but small steps from assuming the throne. You and our belle niece, Mary,”

  One look at Antoine, and the flush of excitement in his face told Andelot they had him nearly convinced. Pity filled his heart. And it angered him to see these three serpentine liars luring him slowly, methodically, and heartlessly to the edge of the pit.

  Cardinal de Lorraine laid a hand on Antoine’s shoulder. “Do not think about it for too long, sire. We would not wish to see this glorious offer slip from your fingers.”

  “This is a great honneur you offer me, but it is such an important decision — I must discuss it with Jeanne.”

  Andelot’s hopes revived. Prince Antoine was drawing back. Then he heard the words from the three men, coming like the thrust from a dagger.

  “But, sire, you certainly will not be able to discuss it with Jeanne. She will wish to divorce you when she hears the news that you took la belle Rouet to be your mistress.”

  “Your wife will arrive here for the colloquy in just days,” the duc said. “And your mistress will be unable to conceal the fact that she is carrying your child.”

  The Growing Menace

  PRINCESSE MARGUERITE HAD CHANGED HER MIND ABOUT HATING THE style and colors, for once the gowns were nearly completed, she could see how belle they were. She had clapped her palms together, and in her teasing way pretended to swoon into the lap of Nenette. “Oh they are beautiful, so delicate, like summer butterflies. I adore them, Rachelle. I will wear the pink gown first. I no longer loathe the color. I am told to meet Navarre on the Saturday after the colloquy begins.”

  Rachelle saw an opportunity and leapt to take advantage. “Oh, if only I could see you in the gown meeting Prince Henry of Navarre.”

  “Then you shall, ma chère,” she said, holding the gown against her and admiring the soft drape of the folds.

  “But the Queen Mother does not permit me to leave the palais.”

  Marguerite gave her a sly glance. “So you wish for me to arrange your escape from the palais, do you?”

  Rachelle snatched the moment. “Oh, could you?”

  “How do you think I slip away to meet Henry de Guise? I can slip you out to go with me to the divertissement. You will need to look most élégante.”

  Rachelle held down her excitement. She could hardly wait to tell Fabien that an opportunity of escape could soon come. This would be her first night away from captivity in almost a year!

  “I have the most perfect gown to wear, my princesse. Wait until you see. The gown is all lace netted over powder blue satin, with velvet cuffs.”

  “Wear it, mignon, but make certain you do not look more belle than I.”

  When Rachelle left the atelier late that afternoon, she anticipated Fabien’s response to her news, but when she arrived she found a short note from him:

  Chérie, an important meeting has come up. I will be late.

  She was already aware of the upcoming meeting with Andelot about the map of Sardinia and anxiously awaited Fabien’s return to hear what was discovered.

  During the evening, while Cousin Bertrand was away with Minister Beza preparing for the opening day of the colloquy, she and Nenette worked on the finishing touches for the third and final gown. All was complete except the adornment of the frilled fan-style neck made of pleated ecru lace of palest eggshell over an underlining of pink silk. She had brought the gown and her sewing case to the appartement knowing she would be working late, for she wished to finish the project tonight and submit the gowns to the Queen Mother for approval. Fortunately, the Queen Mother had not requested a new gown, and except for their meeting in her chambers earlier in the summer, Rachelle had not been called back to report to her.

  Rachelle and Nenette had pulled back some pieces of furniture in the salle de sejour, and with the carpet clean and swept, they laid the gown out carefully and began the final work.

  Will this be my last gown as a couturière in the French court?

  FABIEN RODE THE CHESTNUT STALLION by starlight into the Fontainebleau Forest, away from the king’s section, toward the cottage of the old pasteur, Claud Mornay, who was now his personal chaplain. With Mornay content to stay in the antechamber of Bertrand’s bedchamber, he had offered to let Fabien hold covert meetings in the cottage with his men-at-arms under Julot Cazalet and Gallaudet. Fabien hoped to receive the latest news of Nappier and the Reprisal. The boy, Philippe, had brought him a message from Andelot saying that he would be able to attend because Jaymin had been sent to the Poissy monastery to prepare a study chamber for the cardinal, giving Andelot a breath of freedom.

  When he and Gallaudet neared the cottage, they approached with caution.

  “The candle is in the window,” Gallaudet said, “a sign that all is well.”

  They secured their horses and approached the bungalow from different directions.

  As planned, Gallaudet went to the back door while Fabien waited near the trees.

  The September night was crisp and clear with a vivid canopy of stars showing above the tall forest trees. The moon had already set and a deep stillness had settled over the forest. A short time elapsed, and then the front door of the low-roofed cottage opened, and Gallaudet appeared on the porch and lifted a hand.

  Fabien came up the porch step and entered the room. Andelot greeted him, but most of the others were not present.

  “Where is Julot?” Fabien asked.

  “The men-at-arms arrived last night from Vendôme,” Gallaudet said. “Julot took them into the forest where their camp would not easily be discovered. But they are not far, Monseigneur, we can be there in a short ride.”

  “He left you this, Marquis Fabien.” Andelot handed him a lettre.

  Fabien and Julot had met on at least a dozen occasions in the past months to go over the plans of escape to La Rochelle, where, as the time drew near, Capitaine Nappier would come with the Reprisal. He looked forward to meeting with him again and hearing the news of all he had been doing recently in aiding the Dutch privateers against Spain.

  At the last meeting with Julot, Fabien had looked over the list of possible men-at-arms who were anxious to attach themselves to the Marquis de Vendôme of the house of Bourbon. Fabien had studied the names of the chevaliers, and the brief recommendations by Julot, Gallaudet, and those who knew them. Fabien had chosen those he thought more advanced with weaponry, loyal to the Bourbon house, and unattached.

  Fabien looked toward the wood fire in a hearth where a
kettle simmered. He removed his hat and cloak.

  “Is that tea?”

  “I thought you would want some, Marquis,” Andelot said.

  A short time later, Gallaudet took his mug of brew and disappeared into the nearby pine trees to keep watch while Fabien stood warming himself. He could see by Andelot’s countenance that the meeting in the cardinal’s chamber had not gone well. So be it. Let it stew a few minutes more while he relished the hot drink and read Julot’s report by the firelight.

  When Fabien had finished reading Julot’s report, he placed it on the flames. Andelot rose and put another piece of wood on the fire.

  “Capitaine Nappier has arrived at La Rochelle,” Fabien told him, satisfied. “He will be waiting with the Reprisal for us to manage our escape.” He looked down at Andelot, feeling concern.

  “I have been thinking, Andelot, that with the cardinal and Jaymin occupied with the colloquy, this is your best time to leave. The sooner you can reach La Rochelle and join Nappier, the better.”

  “You would have me flee now — and leave you and Mademoiselle Rachelle behind? I may be of some need to you, Marquis. The news I bring is not of bonne fortune.”

  “I am sure it is not,” he said wryly. “It will be better for you to leave from here at dawn. When Jaymin or the cardinal notices, I can suggest that you may have gone with Scholar Thauvet to Paris for a short time to help him settle into his new chambers at the university.”

  Andelot frowned and resettled the wood in the hearth. “I would feel cowardly and ungrateful to ride off free now, Marquis, and leave my friends still in the thick of the trouble.”

  Fabien frowned back. “The opportunity is set for you to depart at dawn, and you are ready. You have the golden bay, and you can ride to La Rochelle and wait for us. Or if you so choose, you can ride toward Geneva.”

  “I cannot, Marquis — all of my possessions remain in my chamber.”

  “We will celebrate your new freedom by buying all new possessions. If you have personal items of sentiment, then I will see they are brought. Gallaudet can retrieve them.”

  “I would miss attending the colloquy if I ride out at dawn.”

  “You already know the truths Minister Beza will discuss, Andelot. The Lord has opened the door for you to ride free. Everything has come together for you at this time, even Thauvet’s return to Paris. There is nothing here for you any longer, mon ami. It is time to begin a new phase of your life. Whether it is Geneva now, or London and Idelette first, only the decision to leave is important now.”

  “Why did you say Mademoiselle Idelette?”

  Fabien smiled. “Madame Clair mentioned to Rachelle your frequent lettres. She is hoping, as is Rachelle, that this meeting of the minds will become a meeting of the hearts.”

  Andelot smiled. “Yes, I was thinking of asking for her hand in marriage.”

  “Well, you can think of it more freely on the golden bay come dawn.

  What say you, Andelot?”

  Andelot played with the coals a minute longer. He sighed.

  “I could leave at dawn. Yes, perhaps this is the time, as you say. But first, I must tell you what happened at the meeting. It may be you will change your mind and need me in some way. The news is dark, Marquis.” He shook his head in discouragement, staring into the hearth.

  “And what do the Guises have planned for the tropical paradise of Sardinia?”

  “They plan, with Ambassador Chantonnay, to give it to your kinsman Prince Antoine in exchange for the province of Navarre. If he becomes a Catholic as they say he should, they will also arrange for his divorce from his heretic wife, Queen Jeanne. Then they will give him a triple crown if he marries their niece, Mary, Queen of Scots. Spain will depose Queen Elizabeth, and he will then have Sardinia, Scotland, and England. And — la belle Rouet is enceinte. She is so far along that she may give birth during the colloquy while Queen Jeanne is here.”

  The coals in the hearth popped, snapped, and sizzled.

  “Anything else?”

  “They also mentioned the possibility of him having the throne of France,” Andelot said.

  Fabien put both hands to the top of his head and groaned. He sank into the chair. Antoine was being successfully bribed. And for reasons that made no sense, Antoine had trusted the Guises who had, not so long ago, tried to kill him!

  “Explain it to me,” Fabien said, frustrated.

  Andelot sat on the small rug before the fire, chin in hand. He shook his head. “Seeking to understand these things is like following footsteps fading off into the mist.”

  “Then finding out the foggy path brings you to a precipitous edge,” Fabien added dryly. “I can think of one main purpose behind this Guise action. It seems like an assault upon Jeanne of Navarre and the BourbonHuguenot alliance to enhance the power of the Guises. If Antoine becomes a Catholic and there is a divorce sanctioned by the pope, Mary, Queen of Scots, and Antoine together would allow her oncles to seize power. The triple crown they tempted Antoine with — as much of it as might become reality — would be their crown, for they could manipulate him even as they did King Francis. Can you imagine the duc and cardinal overseeing not just the affairs of France but Protestant Scotland and England? Ah, I must present this fearful possibility to the Queen Mother!”

  Andelot frowned. “Dark and cunning.”

  “Straight from the pit. I tell you, Andelot, I think it is all beginning to make sense, at least about Louise and Antoine. The Guises are pleased she is enceinte in order to bring about his divorce from Jeanne. They knew what her reaction would be, and rightly so, for Antoine has played the dog. But the consequences are far reaching. If there is a divorce, their son Henry will lose the right to rule the kingdom of Navarre.

  “And that makes me wonder why the Queen Mother is trying to restart marriage discussions for Margo and Henry.”

  Andelot threw his hand up. “What good is it for Princesse Marguerite to marry Prince Henry of Navarre if Queen Jeanne loses all as a heretic?”

  “Perhaps they will take Henry and try to make him a Catholic, as well.”

  “Yes, they would try that. And I have found out the chief papal legate is coming to the colloquy from Rome, and do you know who is coming with him? The head of the Jesuits.”

  Fabien stared at him. The head of the Jesuits — the Inquisition leader.

  “This may be the most important, Andelot. Who told you this?”

  “Père Jaymin. He seemed most intense. Do you think it could have something to do with your kinswoman?”

  “It could. If she is branded a heretic, then Antoine will inherit all.”

  Fabien frowned, hands on hips, staring off. The suspicion troubling him for weeks was that the Guises and Ambassador Chantonnay had some devious plan in mind for the colloquy.

  “What will happen to Queen Jeanne if their plan to use Prince Antoine is successful, if Prince Antoine divorces her . . . ?”

  Andelot stopped as though the truth were also dawning on him.

  Fabien said, “If she shows herself here at Poissy during the colloquy, Andelot, she could be arrested as a heretic. And if she refuses to change her religion, they could turn her over to the Inquisitors.”

  Andelot looked alarmed. “That could explain why the papal legate Cardinal Ferrara is coming with the head of the Jesuits. But would they dare arrest her during the colloquy?”

  “Not easily — unless Duc de Guise secretly prepared a contingent of men-at-arms to attack unexpectedly. But afterward, if for some reason Jeanne lingered in Paris, all they would need is a royal summons. Remember the ploy they used to lure the princes here to Fontainebleau, promising them fair and generous treatment by the king?” Fabien shook his head. “They are certainly not troubled by lies.”

  “But what about Prince Antoine? Surely he would not agree for his wife to be arrested? I understand he stumbled and took a mistress, but — ”

  “I can hardly fathom him agreeing to her arrest, myself. As you say, he loved her once. He mus
t still have feelings for her and his children by her, despite his folly with Louise. There is much about Antoine that is fair and decent. But he is weak and vacillating. We cannot depend on such a messire.”

  “A double-minded man is unstable in all in his ways.”

  “We cannot take even his good conscience for granted. The unquenchable thirst for power and glory can do strange and dangerous things. I always knew that, but now I have seen it in action. Antoine, even Maurice. If I had not swerved from him at the very last moment, his sword would have penetrated a few more inches to my heart. Though we were at cross purposes many times, I had not thought we could become enemies.”

  “Sometimes, Marquis, it is not a conscious decision to allow our sinful natures to direct our steps, but a little compromise here, then there.”

  “Précisément. And as insane as matters have been recently, who can say what my kinsman Antoine will do? I must talk to him — and the Queen Mother. I cannot think this plan to arrest Jeanne could take place without her knowing of it; she has too many spies crawling about.”

  “But what of the meetings between her daughter, the princesse, and Queen Jeanne’s son? Does that not seem to lessen of the Queen Mother’s chance of involvement?”

  “It would seem so, Andelot, but the gowns and the arranged meetings may be a ruse to throw us off guard as to the real intentions. That is the way she maneuvers.”

  What Fabien did not want to discuss was the possible consequences of Jeanne being arrested and turned over to the inquisitors. The clouds of civil war were even now gathering in the sullen sky over France. Winds of persecution whipped feverishly. But burning Jeanne of Navarre at the stake would turn France into an open battlefield between Huguenots and Catholics.

  Duc de Guise and Cardinal de Lorraine were likely to welcome such a war. The duc would receive Spanish troops and money from the pope, but the Queen Mother wished to avoid civil war, for it would weaken the Valois reign.

  Presently, Catherine was siding with the Huguenots against the house of Guise, but Fabien knew she would not be guided by principles but by her desire to hold on to the throne and preserve it for her favorite son, Anjou. She would wait and watch. Fabien hoped she did not get impatient to see Guise dead, for it would put pressure on him to act sooner.