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Authors: Freda Lightfoot

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‘If only I could find some way to separate the she-cat from the tabby,' Marie cried, wringing her hands in anguish after Henry had hastily withdrawn.

‘An opportunity will arise to rid us of La Marquise, I am sure of it,' Donna Leonora consoled her. The Italian had no further need of her former co-conspirator, not now that she had achieved her object. She'd married Concini, and the pair of them had been granted the promotion they'd both desired. All that mattered now was the security of her beloved mistress, for in that lay her own.

Some short while later, when the Queen was convalescing at Fontainebleau, a young woman called, begging leave for an audience, claiming she possessed information which may be of interest.

‘May I remind Your Majesty, in case you have forgotten, that I am Juliette, the sister of Gabrielle d'Estrées, now the Duchesse de Villars, and I too have no reason to like La Marquise, for reasons we will not go into.'

Marie accurately guessed that the young woman had hoped to take her sister's place on Gabrielle's death, until Henriette had stepped in. Yet Marie was not against a little intrigue which might successfully pluck this thorn from her side. ‘And what is it you have to say to me?'

‘Some letters have come into my possession which I considered so shocking that I brought them to you with all speed. It is for Your Majesty to decide how best to deal with them.'

‘What kind of letters?' Marie remained cautious, not wishing to commit herself to any idle remark which, in this court of wagging ears, might be relayed back to the King by some circuitous route or other.

‘Love letters, Your Majesty, between La Marquise and the Prince de Joinville. I confess he and I have enjoyed a short dalliance and he boastingly showed them to me. Your Majesty will no doubt be aware that he had ambitions to marry Henriette, and these documents speak of their love for each other. Some, I should warn you, also contain remarks by Madame de Verneuil about Your Majesty, which are less than complimentary.' Juliette handed them over.

Marie felt a rush of heat to her cheeks as she read the letters, but it was joy not embarrassment which caused the colour to rise. This was the very material she needed to blunt the she-cat's claws once and for all. She handed the documents back. ‘It is your duty to take them to the King.'

Juliette paled. ‘Oh, but will His Majesty not be angry?'

‘I'm sure he will not blame you. And it is not for me to decide on such matters. The King should be told.'

Still the younger woman hesitated. ‘I would not wish there to be repercussions for members of the Prince's family, for Mademoiselle de Guise, his sister, whom Your Majesty is so fond of. I beg Your Majesty not to reveal to her my interference in this matter. Were she to discover my part in it, she may seek vengeance.' Juliette trembled at the prospect of upsetting so great a house as that of the Princes of Lorraine. Confronting the King with evidence of his mistress's infidelity had not been part of the plan.

Marie smiled and offered her hand. ‘It shall be our little secret.'

Rosny championed the Queen in every respect, and, forewarned, he brought the lovely young woman before the King. ‘The Duchesse de Villars, Sire, seeking an audience.'

Henry was intrigued. With Christmas and the festivities of New Year long since behind him, he had repaired to Paris to confer about problems that had arisen in Metz. The deputy-governor had been obliged to lock himself into the citadel, where he was under siege from the citizens who for some reason had taken up arms against him. A visit from a young, beautiful woman would certainly enliven a long, dull day. Besides, he had a fondness for pretty young women, and at one time had felt an attraction to this one in particular. Until he had met her sister, that is, his darling Gabrielle. How he missed his angel, and how different she had been from Henriette, so much easier to live with. But her sister too was beautiful. His curiosity piqued, the King readily agreed to meet her privately in the side chapel of the church of Saint Germain l'Auxerrois.

Having swept a deep curtsey, Juliette hastily embarked upon a lengthy affirmation of her family's loyalty to the crown. ‘But the obligations which my family owe to Your Majesty prevent me from witnessing unmoved a deceitful outrage.'

Henry frowned, dejection at once setting in as he sensed trouble. ‘Of what deceitful outrage do you refer?'

Juliette answered by handing the letters to the King. Dropping another curtsey, she quickly withdrew.

It took a matter of minutes for Henry to learn the unpleasant truth, and he called sharply for Rosny. ‘Do you know of this?'

Rosny professed ignorance, even though the matter had been fully explained to him by the Queen.

‘These documents suggest that La Marquise sees the Prince de Joinville.' He thrust the papers into the minister's hands. ‘Learn the truth of this rumour, and let me know what you find.'

Henry was beside himself with anger and jealousy. ‘I have been too lenient with her, too forgiving, and this is how she repays me.'

‘Sire, pray keep your composure. Perhaps you should hear what Madame de Verneuil, and Joinville, have to say on this matter before making up your mind to condemn them as guilty.'

‘What could she possibly say in her own defence?' growled the King. ‘Her tongue is so clever that she would easily prove herself right and I to be wrong. Nevertheless, I will repair at once to the Hôtel de Soissons and confront her with this evidence.'

Henriette lifted her chin in defiance and denied, absolutely, all charges. ‘How can you accuse me? I am innocent. Do you still not believe how very much I love you? These are all lies, false documents no doubt forged by the Prince's own hand.'

‘Why would he go to such lengths to discredit you if there was no affair?'

Henriette thought quickly. ‘Because even though I refused him, he still wanted me. He would stop at nothing to take revenge for my twice having rejected him, even to making Your Majesty appear a cuckold.'

Henry scowled. ‘Take care what you say.'

Henriette was too angry, and too desperate, to choose her words with care. ‘As for the Duchesse de Villars, she would willingly be his messenger. Madame Juliette has always resented me for winning your favour because she wanted Your Majesty for herself. But she would not risk your royal displeasure without the consent and connivance of the Queen.'

The King's expression hardened, the usually merry eyes turning ice cold. Aware suddenly of the risks she ran in challenging her sovereign, let alone a Prince of the Blood, a son of the influential Guise, Henriette quickly tempered her accusation. ‘What else am I to surmise? I swear I have never written any love letters to the Prince de Joinville. Why do you not instruct Rosny to investigate the matter, and whatever he discovers, I will abide by it.'

Without another word, Henry strode from the house.

The moment the King had gone Henriette ran to find her brother, and quickly informed him of what had occurred. ‘Find Joinville, and beg him to insist the letters are mere forgeries, written by Juliette d'Estrées out of revenge. Tell him to stick to this tale or we are both done for.'

Once more the Prince faced the ire of his monarch. Henry listened largely in silence to the story that Joinville had never written such letters, that he had not only abandoned his suit to marry the Marquise, but had indulged in an unfortunate affair with the Duchesse de Villars, and by rejecting her, had incited her wrath.

‘Am I expected to believe in your innocence?'

‘I speak true, Sire.'

The King read the report submitted by Rosny into the case, then interviewed several family members of the House of Lorraine, including his brother the Duc de Guise, and the Prince's grandmother, Madame de Nemours.

‘Behold your prodigal, Madame, who has been guilty of innumerable follies.'

‘He is but young still,' the old lady gently pointed out, feeling the full brunt of the King's ire. ‘And foolish. He will grow in wisdom, given time.'

‘If time he is allowed,' Henry coldly responded.

Rosny stepped quickly forward to quietly whisper in the King's ear. ‘Sire, infidelity is not an offence against the crown. The boy has not committed treason.'

Henry drew in a sharp breath at this interruption, but then let it out slowly, attempting to ease his temper, for the minister spoke naught but the truth. ‘Because Monsieur de Rosny intercedes for him, and because of my great regard for you, Madame, I shall treat him as a boy and pardon him. This time. But you will answer for his prudence.'

The young Prince was banished from court, his brother and grandmother undertaking to guarantee his good conduct. Joinville found the old castle at Dampierre lacking in the comforts to which he was accustomed, but once he had cooled his heels a little the King sent him off on campaign to Hungary, which did not please him any greater. But at least he had escaped incarceration in the Bastille.

The Duchess de Villars received a
lettre de cachet
and found herself banished to a distant château. She too was thankful to escape a worse fate, as the whole matter had run completely beyond her control.

Henriette, sunk in deep depression, shut herself up in her Hôtel and continued to swear her innocence. ‘This is all a fabrication on the King's part, devised out of jealousy to prevent me marrying Joinville.' And although Henry called frequently, hammering on the door, she absolutely refused to admit him, swearing she would take herself off to a nunnery if he dared to suggest, or even to think her guilty of betraying him.

Henry felt bereft. Had he successfully quashed a dangerous affair, or simply made himself appear a jealous fool? Either way his life was certainly the poorer without the sensual titillations Henriette had provided.

Rosny, as always, came to Henry's rescue. In a bid to lift the King's spirits, he made a suggestion. ‘You would do well, Sire, to ride out and quell the rebellion in Metz yourself. Take Her Majesty with you. You know how much you like company on a campaign, and the change of air would do you both good.'

Henry approved the idea. ‘Well said, Rosny. I could call upon my sister in Nancy afterwards. See how she fares, if her health has improved.'

Marie was thrilled at the prospect, and could think of nothing better than spending some time alone with her husband, leaving the she-cat behind at court to brood.

‘We shall be all in all to one another,' she said, clapping her hands in delight at the news. ‘And I shall be delighted to see Catherine again.'

Marie greatly enjoyed her stay with Catherine, the two women sharing their domestic tribulations and their needlework with equal fervour. ‘I envy you your ability to bear children,' Catherine confided. ‘I thought for a time that I was
enceinte
, but sadly I was mistaken. I have a malady – dropsy, the physicians call it. I'm a great disappointment to my husband as I will not even accept his religion, let alone provide him with an heir.' She smiled, but there was a bitter sadness behind her careless words. ‘How fortunate you are, dear sister.'

Marie saw that perhaps she was luckier than she had realized, having her two darling babies, and warmly embraced the other woman. ‘You must do as your conscience bids, and you cannot be blamed for any failing in your health.'

‘The Duke, my husband, considers me obstinate, accusing me of refusing to take the remedies which might help to produce a child, because it would be brought up a Catholic. As if I would go to such extremes simply in order to keep my faith? Do I not ache to hold a child of my own in my arms? Men have to blame someone, and it is never themselves. But enough of me, how does my brother?'

Marie gave a wry smile. ‘He does not change. He is a good king, the people love him as he thinks always of what is right for France, far more so than his predecessors. His latest scheme is to encourage the rearing of silkworms for the silk industry. He is taking over entire chambers at Fontainebleau to hatch eggs, and also Queen Margot's château in the Bois de Boulogne.'

‘Henry was ever one for his enthusiasms,' Catherine remarked, and both women laughed.

‘But Marguerite is complaining that if her property is taken over by worms, where could she stay if she came to Paris?'

Catherine raised a questioning brow. ‘Is the Queen considering returning to Paris?'

‘I trust not,' Marie tartly responded. ‘Have I not enough of the King's women to contend with? He has even now made some excuse to return to Paris on the pretext of state affairs. More likely he is paying a call upon Madame de Verneuil.'

But within days a messenger rode breathless into the courtyard at Fontainebleau with the news that the King was ill.

Marie wasted no time and at once rushed to her husband's side. Although he led a full and active life, rising early to walk in the park each morning, riding or hunting every day, Henry was over fifty and the maladies that had troubled him on and off since his younger days now took a greater toll upon his health. On this occasion he'd caught a chill which led to a urological disorder, and the royal physicians were concerned.

‘
Mon ami
, I feel so ill that in all probability God is about to summon me,' Henry informed his favourite minister.

Rosny could not hide his anxiety when he relayed this remark to the Queen. She had been seated by his side for some hours, holding his hand while he slept. The minister leaned close to whisper in her ear. ‘His Majesty is concerned for the succession, and for the children. There will need to be a regency.'

Marie's gaze flew to his. ‘I am ready for whatever task the King deems me worthy.' Henry stirred in his bed, and quickly she kissed his hand. ‘My love, you are awake. Are you feeling better?'

‘I am marvellously glad of your presence. Seeing you beside me brings singular relief. And Rosny too. Madame, in the event of my demise this is the servant who will serve you and your children best. He knows my affairs, and possesses all my confidence. His temper is hard and austere, and sometimes he speaks more freely than he should, but if you neglect him it will be to the perdition of this crown.'

BOOK: The Queen and the Courtesan
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