My Brother's Crown (14 page)

She blushed. She had not meant to be disrespectful to her uncle—and on the day of his funeral, no less.

“Did the dragoons bother you?”

Catherine shrugged. “Some. I wish they would be called back to Paris.”

“They are not all from Paris. I have heard the newer ones are from around here.”

“The king should be embarrassed. And so should his church. What happened to common decency? And freedom?”

“Oui,
the king is responsible. But not everyone in the church. Many are ashamed by what is going on.”

“Who?”

“Father Philippe, for one.”

Catherine already knew that. “Who else?”

Grand-Mère picked up an envelope from her desk. “Suzanne.”

“A letter came?”

“
Oui.
”

Catherine wrote regularly to Duchesse de Navailles on Grand-Mère's behalf. Sometimes she added a few words of her own as well, which the duchesse seemed to enjoy. Long ago, back when the king's father was young, both Suzanne and Grand-Mère's parents had been members of the court, and the two girls were close in age and had become friends. Suzanne's father was a duke, his title passed down through his family for generations, while Grand-Mère's grandfather had been knighted after having done some extensive legal work for Louis XIII. When Suzanne's mother fell ill, she stayed with Grand-Mère and her family and the girls had formed a close bond.

Suzanne married the Duc of Navailles, had seven children, and remained active in the court for many years. Her mother was the godmother of Madame de Maintenon, Louis XIV's current
favourite
, and had in fact been the one who introduced the two of them in the first place.

Though Catherine abhorred the king because of his treatment of the Huguenots, stories of Paris intrigued her, as much as did high fashion or the pageantry of the church. Letters with Suzanne were the closest she had ever come to any kind of court experience, even though her family was nobility.

“I will read it to you,” Catherine said, taking the letter and sitting down
in the chair on the other side of the desk. It began with a warm greeting to Grand-Mère and an inquiry about her health. After that, Catherine continued on with the next paragraph, keeping her voice deep and rich in an attempt to imitate what she imagined Suzanne's sounded like.

“ ‘I have been at Versailles for the last couple of weeks and will remain here for several months. All is well with His Majesty and even better with Madame de Maintenon. Yvonne, you should come to visit me at Versailles. It has been years since you have been to Paris. I know your brother would want you to stay with him. In fact, I saw Laurent last night and he said as much. We both agree you should bring your dear
petite fille
as well.' ” Catherine smiled, pleased that the invitation had also been extended to her.

“Continue,” Grand-Mère said.

“ ‘As for your son… ' ” Catherine's voice trailed off at the mention of her late uncle, not just because of his death but also because Suzanne had never been told of his conversion to Catholicism.
Too complicated to explain
had been Grand-Mère's response when Catherine had asked if she should write about it last year. The fact that Grand-Mère had left the Catholic church to become a Huguenot had always been a sore point with Suzanne. Perhaps Grand-Mère believed the woman would interpret Edouard's conversion as a victory for all who shared the king's opinions about religion—including Suzanne.

“Tell her about Edouard when you respond,” Grand-Mère directed now, interrupting her thoughts. “Just that he died.”

Catherine nodded and then started at the beginning of the sentence again. “ ‘As for your son, be sure he comes too for protection along the road. I am also enclosing a letter of passage for your coach that a captain of His Majesty's soldiers assures me will bring you here safely.' ” Catherine flipped to the second page. It was the letter of passage.

She turned back again and continued reading. “ ‘I treasure your friendship and long to see you. Write back as soon as you know when you will be coming to Paris. There is no need for you to await my reply. Once you have arrived, send word with the exact date you plan to visit Versailles, which is only three hours away, and I will be here to greet you with open arms. Your loving friend, Suzanne.' ” Catherine looked up. “There's a postscript.”

“Go on.”

“It's to me.”

Grand-Mère smiled. “Of course it is.” She paused. “Well, are you going to read it?”

Catherine lowered her head again. “ ‘
Ma petite
Catherine, convince your grandmother to make the trip and bring you with her. It will be worth it to all of you. You are a woman now. I would like nothing more than to have a chance to meet you and see what you have to offer.' ”

Grand-Mère frowned.

“What does she mean?” Catherine asked, folding the letter.

“Suzanne is known for her matchmaking. She may have someone in mind for you, which is a ridiculous thought.”

Catherine returned the letter to its envelope. Ridiculous,
oui
, but she could not help but be flattered.

“A trip to Paris is a lovely idea, but now is not a time for the frivolities of travel,” Grand-Mère pronounced with finality, taking the envelope and placing it on the desk. “I am sure my old friend knows that.”

“Now is
exactly
the time,” Catherine replied emphatically, hoping her enthusiasm did not come across as disrespect. “
Absolument.
This visit with Suzanne must happen as soon as possible.”

“Oh?” Grand-Mère lifted an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“So you can ask her to help us.”

“How could she possibly help?”

“By securing passage for our family to London.”

Grand-Mère pursed her lips. “It's not safe. Refugees are being murdered on the beaches. Those who make it into a boat are killed crossing the Channel.”

“Only some of them,” Catherine said. “Many refugees have arrived on England's shores unharmed.”

Grand-Mère's eyes filled with tears. “Still, the risk is too great,” she whispered.

“Then perhaps Suzanne could make the dragoons leave us alone here.”

Grand-Mère shook her head. “Suzanne knows the king, but she does not have that sort of favor. In fact, you might say she is one of his least favorite people and has been for many years.”

Catherine blinked. “I don't understand. How can she be a member of the court without the approval of the king?”

“Many years ago, when the king was much younger, she opposed him in a matter of… propriety… which he greatly resented. He had her removed from court, but the Queen Mother implored him to bring her back. Which he did, eventually.”

“Oh,” Catherine said, hoping for more details but knowing not to ask.

“Yet… perhaps there is a chance Suzanne could help us,” Grand-Mère added. “A slight one.”

“It's worth a try. We both know that if things continue to get worse, we may have no choice but to flee to another country.”

Grand-Mère's eyes filled with fresh tears as she struggled with that notion. “I do not want to leave France.”

“So you would have us relocate to the Plateau instead? It may still be France, but it's in the middle of nowhere. You would be miserable there, Grand-Mère, just as I would. You grew up in Paris, not in the wilds. You need to be in a city, even if that city is somewhere other than France.”

“
Oui
. You and I are both used to all a city has to offer.”

“Besides, there are likely dragoons there too—or, if not already, eventually there will be. Why go to the trouble of relocating to the Plateau now if we will only be forced to flee again later?”

Grand-Mère dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “I agree. But do not worry. No one is considering the Plateau as an option.”

Catherine blinked. “
Non
? Then why is Jules negotiating the purchase of a paper mill in Le Chambon?”

Grand-Mère's eyes widened. “What?”

Catherine's head jerked back. “I thought you knew. Monsieur Audet and his son, the makers of the paper we like so much, were at the shop today, discussing a sale with Jules.”

Grand-Mère's face grew pale. “
Non.
”

“
Oui.
”

“To live on the Plateau…” She paused. “I have never been, of course, but from what I understand it is a desolate and lonely place.”

Catherine nodded. As a child the rugged landscape of that area held a certain appeal for her, but she could not fathom living there as an adult. There were far better places to relocate. She'd been twelve when she visited the village of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon, situated in a mountainous region southwest of Lyon known as the Plateau, where her mother and aunt were from. The purpose was to see the property Maman's father, who had recently died, had left to Jules. Together Papa, Uncle Edouard, Amelie, Jules, and Catherine had traveled by horseback. That part had been a grand adventure, but once they got there, she had not been impressed by the provincial village at all—especially not when she learned how much snow fell in the region in the winter. Mostly, it had made her sad to be where her mother had grown up and even sadder not to remember her, except for the one image. Everyone else spoke about Maman and her sister nonstop, all while Catherine listened in miserable silence, longing to return to Lyon and Grand-Mère.

“Do you not think London would be a better place to settle?” Catherine asked now. “Perhaps we could make our way to La Rochelle and find a ship there instead of going north and trying to cross at the Channel.”

Shaking her head, Grand-Mère placed her hand on the desk and leaned against it. “I cannot imagine leaving my homeland. Surely the family name of Gillet will protect us here.”

Catherine felt just as sure it would not, but she held her tongue. Certainly, the Gillet name would have made no difference to the dragoons who had followed her earlier.

“All I know is that the point may come when we have no choice but to move, wherever that move will be. That's why I must rescue Amelie right away. If Jules whisks us off while she is still at the convent, she will never be able to find us should she ever get out.”

Grand-Mère was quiet for a moment. “Perhaps we
do
need to get Amelie,” she said, the closest she had come to admitting what likely lay ahead for them all.

Relief flooded through Catherine.

“As for Suzanne,” Grand-Mère continued, “write her back for me.”

“I will tell her we hope to come soon.”

“We?” Grand-Mère fixed her eyes on her granddaughter. “You certainly cannot go with me. Paris is no place for you, much less Versailles.”

Catherine's heart fell. “And why is that?”

“Too many temptations.”

Catherine shook her head. “You know I would not do anything immoral.”

“Not even covet?” Grand-Mère asked. “You have that tendency you know, to be drawn toward the nicer things. You always have.”

Catherine's cheeks flushed with heat as she remembered her thoughts just a short while ago at Janetta's boutique. Grand-Mère knew her so well. “I promise I will not. I am content with how we live, truly I am.”

Grand-Mère's eyes narrowed as she leaned forward and studied her granddaughter. Straightening her shoulders, Catherine tried to return her gaze with quiet confidence, fully aware that the woman would never take her along if she believed such a trip might endanger her soul.

“Will you consider it, at least? Please? I'm not a little girl anymore, Grand-Mère. I know the dangers of bright and beautiful things. But that is all they are.
Things
. I prefer to store up my treasures in heaven. And I would never be interested in whatever young man Suzanne might think would be a match for me. I am committed to Pierre.” Even if he was annoying her right now.

Grand-Mère considered her a moment longer and then finally gave a nod. “
Bien.
I will ask your brother.”

“
Merci,
” Catherine whispered, knowing he would not like the idea but grateful that her grandmother was willing to ask.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

Catherine

H
ours later, when Catherine left home again, she wore an old cloak over a simple dress and apron, with a maid's cap covering her head. Clouds had rolled in over the hills and hung heavily above the city. She hurried toward the river, thankful that the dragoons were nowhere in sight. When she reached the Saint Vincent Bridge, she stopped for a moment. There was no rag cart on the other side. Perhaps Eriq had parked on a different street.

She kept going, pausing again at the end of the bridge, unsure as to what to do next. Going to the print shop was not an option. Jules would stop her.