The Queen and the Courtesan (18 page)

Scanning it quickly Henry tossed it aside with a careless shrug. ‘Let the fellow seethe, it will do him no good. But enough of this, you do not truly mean to obey the Queen and shun me, do you? What is all this about your being indifferent to me now?' He slid a hand down her bodice and began to fondle her breasts as he so loved to do. ‘Are you indifferent to that?'

Henriette instinctively arched towards him, eyelids fluttering close. ‘Entirely,' she murmured.

‘And what about this?' He was lifting her skirt now, his hand sliding over the silk of her stocking, seeking bare flesh.

‘You mean nothing to me,' she gasped, nibbling at his smiling mouth.

‘Therefore I must conclude that you no longer love me. Would you abandon me to the mercies of my wife? How shall I survive?'

Henriette slapped his probing fingers away and adjusted her clothing in a huff of indignation. ‘Since you clearly mistrust me, Sire, searching my house, accusing me of having a lover, and now of being party to fraudulent practices, I am quite indifferent to whatever Your Majesty chooses to do.'

Her sudden change of mood irritated and enslaved him all at the same time, but he would not beg. ‘So tell me why you would ally yourself with such a scheme? Do you not already have a king in thrall to you?'

‘Since you refuse me the benefit of a husband I must needs protect my own future.'

‘Dear heart, have I not promised time after time to look after you, and our children? Do you not trust my word?' Henry asked, holding out his hands in a gesture of humility.

‘How can I believe your word when you so easily break it? I must make my own arrangements.' Henriette stamped her foot in annoyance. ‘I want to look after myself and not be humiliated by constantly having to beg Your Majesty for favours.'

Henry folded his arms and stood, legs astride, to consider her. ‘Ah, so it is independence you crave, is that it?' His tone had cooled considerably. ‘Very well, then I assume you will no longer require the sum of one hundred thousand
livres
which I'd promised in order for you to purchase the county of Joigny.'

Henriette regarded him in horror. ‘You become insufferably more jealous the older you get. There is no longer any means of pleasing you.'

‘As I am such an old nuisance then go home to Verneuil, if that is what you wish.' And turning his back on her he strode away, leaving Henriette almost foaming at the mouth in fury.

Unfortunately, the King had called her bluff and she had no choice but to obey. Before the day was out Henriette packed her belongings and reluctantly set off back to her own château, deep in the quiet of the countryside, far from the gossip and political goings-on of court life which was her lifeblood.

But, as always in this volatile relationship, Henry could not bring himself to cast her off completely. Within weeks he was riding out across country to meet up with her again in secret. The truth was that while he could not live with her, no more could he live without her.

Marie had escaped to Compiègne to avoid the stress of these disputes, as well as the sight of her husband sinking into depression because he was again at odds with his mistress. Was ever a queen more slighted than she? Bad enough to be compelled to suffer the fact her husband had a mistress at all, but to have one who possessed a promise of marriage in his name, and refuses to relinquish it, was unconscionable. Were Henry to die then the legitimacy of the Dauphin would immediately be brought into question. It was not a prospect conducive to inspire security in any consort.

How she wished she saw more of her sister-in-law and dear friend, the Duchesse de Bar, in whom she could so easily confide her troubles. But she feared for the Duchess's health for it remained poor. In one of her frequent letters Catherine was hopeful that she was at last pregnant. Marie had written to congratulate her on this joyous news, if it was indeed true, and to commiserate on a persistent cough.

Marie met up with the King again at the house of Rosny, and not only was Henry distant towards her but storms and a flooded river quite ruined the feast. It was a damp and dispiriting evening with barely a civilized word exchanged between them. Marie felt close to tears, and did indeed weep when Henry briefly referred to these outrageous allegations about the Dauphin, as if it were of no great moment.

‘Since Madame de Verneuil refuses to return my promise of marriage, His Holiness will retain the power of pronouncing the lot of my son, my own fate, and the destiny of this realm.'

‘And you can do nothing to force her to relinquish it?'

Henry shrugged. ‘I cannot, though I doubt she would act upon it.'

Marie had to bite her tongue to stop herself from screaming at him. She so longed to say more but, in view of the precariousness of her own position, dare not. And she saw by the weary resignation in Rosny's eye that he shared her exasperation with the King's weakness.

‘His Majesty turns deaf, dumb and blind whenever he suspects a friend might have betrayed him,' Marie complained bitterly to her
dame d'atours
later that night as she prepared for bed, hoping in vain that her husband would join her. ‘Henry does so hate to face unpleasant truths.'

‘I doubt His Majesty realizes that Auvergne and his father are in league with the Spanish ambassador,' Donna Leonora casually remarked as she helped her mistress into her nightgown.

Marie felt a shiver of alarm at hearing this concern so calmly articulated. Her knees suddenly giving way, she sank into a chair. ‘My uncle too has written of his suspicions in that respect. And were the unthinkable to happen, and the she-cat to challenge my son's right to reign, then there would be civil war in France all over again.'

The two women looked at each other, both careful not to speak of the King's death out loud, yet needing to express their fears and consider the consequences of such a catastrophe.

Donna Leonora lowered her voice as there were other maids of honour present in the bedchamber. ‘I have heard it whispered that Balzac and Auvergne seem determined to ally themselves to the machinations of the Spanish Hapsburgs. They enjoy basking in the sun of their ambitions, so who can say what the outcome might be.'

‘Should I speak to the King of these suspicions?'

Donna Leonora hesitated for a second while she tucked the Queen's hair into her nightcap, then slowly shook her head. ‘It is not my place to offer advice, Your Majesty, but I believe you should not be seen to challenge the King's judgement in such matters.'

‘That was my view too. The she-cat has insolently ignored the promises she made to me when she thought His Majesty at death's door, and taken up with him again. Would that I could have my revenge for such arrogance.'

Donna Leonora was anxious to keep on good terms with the King's favourite, since being able to visit La Marquise allowed access to all manner of snippets of gossip useful to her beloved mistress. She therefore advised caution. ‘Your time will come, Your Majesty. Concini too agrees that you should bide your time until you're in a stronger position to make demands.'

The wily
dame d'atours
always kept her husband fully informed of conversations she enjoyed with the Queen, but she was never too sure how much he confided in the King, nor whether that was a good or a bad thing. She was not afraid of stirring up mischief between the royal pair if the end result was beneficial to their own position. But for once she was opting on the side of prudence.

Marie was almost in tears as she climbed between the sheets, finally admitting that Henry wasn't coming to her tonight. ‘And while I await the King's attention, nibbling sweetmeats to console my loneliness, and growing plumper by the day, La Marquise remains triumphantly radiant. She is bright and clever, witty and charming, and Henry sees me as dull and plain.'

‘She only sparkles when she chooses to, Madame. At other times she can be wickedly caustic, or engage in childish tantrums.'

‘But even at her most insolent and abrasive, the King does nothing to reprimand or punish her.'

Marie was obliged to watch in silence as events unfolded, nursing a private desire for vengeance that ate into her soul and filled her with bitterness. She saw how her husband's spirits rose or fell according to whether he had recently ridden out to visit his mistress, or the woman had again banned him from her presence.

She was in despair that Henry should so weakly capitulate to his mistress's litany of demands without demur. However flagrant, however grasping, however outrageous the she-cat's efforts to claw money out of him, he would always pardon and forgive her, then be panting at her door like a whipped lapdog the next instant.

La Marquise led the King entirely by the nose, and his own wife could barely capture his attention for more than a moment.

‘I believe the Queen would like to see me dead,' Henriette announced to her father one day. ‘Much as I miss being in court, I no longer consider it safe for me to live there.'

‘It would be a bad mistake,' Balzac told her, ‘for you to stay away too long.'

They were at Malesherbes, where Henriette had arrived on a visit with her family, seeking their support in her troubles. Her mother, of course, took a different view.

‘It may well be wise for Henriette to stay away if the situation is as dangerous as she suggests,' Marie Touchet said. ‘Could we not still find her a husband, Balzac? Mayhap, the King would agree if we asked politely.'

‘Silence, woman, these matters are beyond your comprehension.'

‘I would not be against marriage with the right man,' Henriette protested, for once agreeing with her mother. ‘But as the King is unlikely to accept any husband who might claim his conjugal rights, I doubt we will ever succeed in finding one he'd agree to. Nor will he allow me to stay away from court for too long.'

Auvergne, who had recently ridden in, now joined them, striding in on a blast of cold air. Drawing off his gloves he tossed them on to a side table, and gave a wry grin of satisfaction. ‘The Spanish ambassador has offered me a pension of ten thousand
livres
for a copy of the marriage document. What think you of that?'

‘We will not accept,' was his stepfather's immediate response.

Auvergne looked astounded. ‘Why ever not? Ten thousand
livres
per annum is no small sum. He asked if the promise was conditional and I admitted that it was.'

‘But only on Henriette producing a son, which she did. It was no fault of hers that the child died.'

Henriette stiffened her spine with pride. ‘You are right, Father, the fault was not mine. And why accept such a trifling sum when we can have the crown? All we need do is to hold fast to our patience until the unspeakable happens and France looks to a new king. The only danger is the moment that day dawns, the Queen will have me arrested and thrown into the Bastille. I truly live in fear of my life.'

‘There is no reason to feel threatened, daughter, not when you have a brother and father to protect you. And perhaps the Queen does not have quite the power she imagines. Just remember that we hold all the cards, or rather the key to challenging the legitimacy of France's future King. We will never voluntarily surrender that document.'

Henriette showed her father a letter. ‘See, the King asks that I send my son to be educated alongside the Dauphin. He says he makes the offer out of love for our son, and if the boy is at court then his mother – myself – will surely follow.'

‘Will you accept?' Auvergne asked.

‘I have already declined his generous offer. I told His Majesty that I would not allow my son to be educated with the royal bastard, son of the Florentine.'

‘Well spoken,' Balzac agreed, and Auvergne laughed out loud.

‘That will show him what he is up against, that you are not a woman to be lightly set aside.'

‘Is she not the most exasperating of women?' Henry asked, as he slammed Henriette's response down on the table before his minister.

‘I trust you will call her to task over such insolence?' Rosny said.

Henry sighed. ‘How can I? She has her own view of these matters and I cannot persuade her to abandon them. Nor do I wish to take the risk of her escaping to England. No, no, I shall pardon her, as always. Am I not weary of squabbles, and seek only peace?'

Rosny was privately incensed by the King's folly. ‘I beseech Your Majesty to terminate this liaison which is degrading to yourself, and humiliating for the Queen. Why not allow Madame de Verneuil to marry the Prince de Joinville, or if not him, then some other suitable person of your choice, Sire. Or settle a liberal income on anyone willing to espouse her. She constantly claims that this is what she wants, or else to retire to a nunnery. Why not let her do one or the other. Take her at her word.'

‘Would she then voluntarily surrender the marriage document, do you suppose?'

‘It would have to be a requirement.'

Henry considered this excellent advice for all of half a second, but it really was too painful for him to contemplate for too long. Life without his captivating Henriette was unthinkable. ‘If only the Queen were not so set against her, so resentful of her presence at court. Why cannot Marie accept that a king is entitled to one mistress, at least? How can I live with such discord between them? My wife shows me no respect.'

‘Sire, the Queen worships you, but she has been greatly provoked by the fact that this particular mistress has spread scandalous mischief that it should be her own son who claims the throne, and not Louis, our little dauphin. How is she supposed to deal with that?'

‘
Mon ami
,' grumbled Henry. ‘I find the society of my wife neither a solace, an amusement, nor a contentment to me. She is not gentle, nor does she possess the facility for gliding smoothly over trifling differences. She does not try to accommodate herself to my temper or my habits. When I enter her saloon and approach her for a conversation, or perhaps acknowledge her with a kiss, she receives me coldly, so that I soon hurry elsewhere.'