The Queen and the Courtesan (6 page)

‘I do not care for that odious little man. Small of stature, large in ego.'

‘Remember what I told you. Ah, he is coming for you again, now put on your best smile and be gracious.'

Henriette danced and pirouetted, smiled and charmed him as best she may. The Duke was ever courteous and deferential towards her, and to the King and his ministers, yet whenever Rosny brought up the subject of Saluzzo, he remained intransigent in his determination to retain it.

Savoy was no fool, and in preparation for possible conflict had mustered what support he could. He made a point of seeking out malcontents and had chanced upon Marshal Biron as he passed through Burgundy on his way to France. That one-time loyal subject likewise bore a grudge against the current regime as the Duchess of Beaufort had promised him Perigord and Bigorre, as well as the post of Constable of France on Montmorency's death. All now lost with her unexpected death. The Duke of Savoy had offered Biron a bribe in the form of the sovereignty of the Duchy of Burgundy. In addition, he would be granted the hand of one of his daughters in marriage, together with a splendid dowry.

Now Savoy responded with equal cunning to the charms of Henry's new mistress. ‘I thank you for your company,' he told her with a bow as he returned her to her seat. ‘Mayhap we could talk more tomorrow. A walk in the garden in the forenoon would be most pleasant.'

‘I shall look forward to it,' Henriette graciously accepted, striving not to reveal how the touch of his hand made her skin crawl.

The walk took place, as agreed, in the Tuileries gardens, and as they strolled together along the avenues of poplar, lime and white mulberry that Catherine de Medici herself had planted, the Duke readily offered his services without even being asked.

‘I am aware of the delicacy of your situation, and wish you to know that I would be most happy to put any obstacle in the way of this Medici marriage. France is powerful enough, without the might of Rome and Florence behind it.'

‘I thank you, Sire.' Henriette politely inclined her head, heart thumping with hope. Her brother would be pleased if she could land this big fish. ‘And would you agree to offer your support for a certain document in my possession, written and signed by the King's own hand at Bois-Malesherbes, which makes me a promise of marriage provided I give him a son? As you see, I truly hope soon to do so.'

‘I see that delay of the Italian marriage is essential, but I'm sure we can reach an agreement, you and I, how best you could show your gratitude if I helped you.' He smiled at her, ever the lecher, and Henriette stifled a shudder as she smiled sweetly back. ‘Once my own position has been clarified, I'm sure we can come to mutually beneficial terms.'

‘I'm sure we could, in the fullness of time,' she hedged, patting her stomach as a gentle reminder of her condition. There seemed little point in pretending she did not understand his meaning, but so long as she could keep him dangling, there was really no necessity for her to actually deliver. She licked her lips with her small pink tongue and saw how his face suffused with flushed desire.

Henry had drawn up a long list of territories, including Bresse, and the Alpine valley of Barcelonnette, among others, which he would accept in return for allowing the Duke to retain ownership of the Marquisate of Saluzzo. But Savoy had no greater desire to part with any of those either. He refused, however, to engage in argument over the matter. Instead, he showered gifts on the King and his courtiers on New Year's Day, when the French Court traditionally exchanged gifts: crystal vases for Henry, valuable diamonds for Madame la Marquise. There were many more presents, and huge sums of money, in a bid to win support from some of the most influential nobles in the land, even at the cost of civil war in France. All were accepted with gracious courtesy, save for Rosny, who, when offered a snuffbox enriched with diamonds estimated to be worth fifteen thousand
livres
, he politely declined it.

‘I made a vow never to accept any present of value except from my own sovereign.'

The wily minister clearly construed the gift as a bribe. ‘Let him judge me as he wishes,' Savoy told his men. ‘My generous gesture has cost several hundred thousand
livres
, money well spent if it impresses the French with our wealth and resources. Mayhap they will think twice about challenging us.'

He amazed the nobles still further by appearing at a ball in an outfit richly embroidered with precious stones. But eventually, the Duke declared his readiness to return home, with a promise to consider the alternatives Henry had offered.

‘You must come again soon, Monsieur le duc. We always enjoy your company, so long as you appreciate our determination to enforce our right to the Marquisate which you stole from us,' Henry told him, in his usual friendly but forthright fashion, showing no fear whatever of any possible conflict.

Savoy frowned, not caring for the thought that his huge investment had been wasted. ‘Perhaps a commission might be appointed to examine our conflicting claims,' he suggested.

‘Perhaps so,' Henry pleasantly agreed.

One was set up forthwith and Savoy postponed his departure while arguments for each side were considered. But while some agreements were forged, other issues were left in abeyance. It was March before finally the Duke left Paris, and only then with a three month grace to consider his options.

The delay had done nothing to help Henriette in her own dilemma. The Duke of Savoy's promises to help had become almost meaningless, her cause more precarious than ever. Henriette's smile became daily more fixed, her efforts to tantalize and ingratiate herself with the King lacking her usual enthusiasm and energy. And as her pregnancy advanced Henriette was compelled to take life quietly, and to rest more. Producing a child, and thereby gaining a crown, wasn't proving to be quite as easy as she had imagined. Each night she prayed that the babe would be kept safe.

‘The life of Marie de Medici should be one long period of repentance for her shameless usurpation of
my
conjugal relations with His Majesty,' she told her brother.

‘We still have hopes the Italian marriage can be stopped. You have only to produce a healthy son.'

‘But it could be too late!' she screamed.

‘I beg you to remain calm, sister. All is not yet lost.'

But she was fast losing patience as well as her temper, and frequently forgot the promises she'd made to her brother to be more discreet. ‘Have you thought yet how to stop that woman from coming?' she would snap at the King. Henry would give her a mournful smile, or scowl and insist the matter was out of his hands.

‘But you promised to marry
me
! You should dismiss Rosny for getting you into this muddle.'

Henriette might stamp her foot, or fling her hair brush across the room as often as may be, but to no effect. Henry remained obdurate, and her resentment grew as he persisted in his pursuit of the Medici. Fear snapped at her heels and she daily became more irritable and unhappy.

Henry was by now over the first flush of passion and beginning to see the quagmire into which he'd landed himself. He'd seen a portrait of Marie de Medici, and rather liked the look of her. She was handsome enough and he thought she had the makings of a good wife and queen. He felt excited at the prospect of meeting her and saw no reason why she should object to his keeping a mistress, for were not all kings entitled to at least one? Yet he could not stop himself from considering how things might change if Henriette did indeed present him with a son in a few months' time. How would he feel then about the Italian marriage?

The wedding arrangements continued inexorably and Henry became increasingly desperate to retrieve the promise of marriage he had made to Henriette. It would surely be seen as an insult to the princess were it not destroyed. It might even create problems in the future.

Once again he asked for its return.

Henriette did not comply. Four days after receiving a second letter from the King, on the fifth of May, news arrived that the contract of marriage between the French monarch and the Princess Marie de Medici had been signed at the Palazzo Pitti, in the presence of the Archbishop of Pisa. The Savoy issue had indeed delayed matters, but the inevitable had happened nonetheless.

Henriette was distraught, and now banked all her hopes on the successful delivery of a son.

Henry made it clear to his courtiers that the subject of the Italian alliance must not be mentioned in the presence of Madame la Marquise. ‘She must be kept calm at all times, for the sake of the child.' He was irritated that she had not responded and returned the promise, as instructed, but pragmatic enough to realize that were she to deliver a healthy son, he may well carry out his promise to marry her, and risk Rosny's displeasure.

But for now he was more troubled by the fact that no decision had yet reached him regarding Saluzzo. Henry understood perfectly that the Duke of Savoy had sought a delay of three months only as a means to avoid surrendering any territory at all. Thus, as the month of June progressed preparations were made for hostilities to begin.

‘I am reluctant to leave you, dear heart, when you are so close to your time, but I am being urged to make plans to advance to Lyons, whither Rosny has already despatched troops and artillery. Will you accompany me? Gabrielle often came with me on campaigns. Do you feel able to do likewise?'

Henriette would love to have been able to do so, if only to prove how necessary her presence was for his happiness. But her state of health was too delicate, and the outcome so important, that she dare not take the risk. ‘I fear it would be too fatiguing for me, Sire. I must guard the health of our son.' She lived in hope that once she was safely delivered, all talk of the Italian woman would be over. ‘Can you not delay the campaign for a little while?'

Henry did just that. He put off his departure until Rosny wrote demanding to know what had happened to the vital support he needed. ‘I can delay no longer, my sweet. Know that I love you, that if you are successful in delivering on your promise, then I will keep mine. I have demanded daily reports of your state of health. Farewell, my own. I kiss your hands a million times.' And with great reluctance, Henry left.

A bare two weeks later, on a summer's day sultry with heat, a terrible thunderstorm erupted, and lightning struck the Palace of the Louvre. Pictures tumbled from the walls in the Great Gallery, and the entire building seemed to shake and tremble. The shock was so great that it caused Henriette to go into premature labour. She did indeed produce a boy child, but he was stillborn.

Henriette was distraught. Her health was at its lowest ebb and her dream of being Queen of France had crumbled to dust. Worse, Henry was unable to come to her immediately as he was too occupied preparing to invade Savoy. She wrote to him in her sadness and bitter disappointment.

She wrote at some length, pouring out her heart, flattering the King and humbling herself with almost maudlin self-pity, signing the letter:

Since she had no hope now of being a queen, far better to be a king's mistress than to return home in disgrace with nothing at all.

On 6 August, negotiations having broken down over Saluzzo, Henry invaded Savoy. He wrote to Henriette from Chambéry expressing his sorrow for her loss, and his love. He then instructed Varenne, his loyal attendant, to accompany the Marquise south as soon as she was fit enough to travel.

On reaching Lyons, Henriette made a triumphal entry into the city as if she were indeed a crowned queen and not a fallen woman. The people honoured her with the same enthusiastic welcome they had once given Diane de Poitiers, the famous royal mistress of Henri II, when she had visited their city many years before. Henriette was presented with a number of standards taken by the King's forces and sent to her by Henry with pride, as he had done long since for Corisande. Very cleverly she presented these to the ancient church of St Just de Lyons on the King's behalf.

Her sister Marie-Charlotte was with her, as companion and attendant. As her lover, François Bassompiere, attended on Henry, it seemed sensible that the two sisters should support each other. She loved to stir gossip and would often bring many a naughty titbit, even those Henriette would much rather not hear. ‘They are saying that Mademoiselle de la Bourdaisière and Mademoiselle de la Chastre have accompanied the King on his latest campaign,' she told her now, eyes agog.

Henriette was not amused. ‘I do not believe you.'

‘I swear it is true.'

Henriette slapped her. ‘Don't bring me any more lies.'

The two lovers met on the road to Grenoble and immediately began to quarrel. ‘Is it true,' Henriette demanded, ‘that you have Bourdaisière and de la Chastre with you?'