My Brother's Crown (36 page)

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Authors: Mindy Starns Clark

BOOK: My Brother's Crown
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After Catherine was dressed in the purple-and-gold brocade gown, Grand-Mère said, “Do not look in the mirror. I don't want you to grow vain.”

“Grand-Mère.” Catherine's hand went to her throat as she turned toward the glass. The purple fabric made her skin appear creamy, and the gold brought out the auburn highlights of her hair. She turned away, knowing she was presentable at most but certainly not beautiful. Grand-Mère was biased.

Uncle Laurent met them at the bottom of the stairs and seemed deeply pleased at the sight of her. “It is a shame, really—”


Chut,
” Grand-Mère said.

Eriq's footsteps thundered down the stairs. Catherine turned toward him. His gray eyes, highlighted by a sky-colored jacket, lit up when he saw her.

“We should be on our way,” Grand-Mère told them, nudging Catherine toward the door.

The sky was overcast as they started out in Uncle Laurent's carriage, its ride even smoother than the stagecoach, but by the time they reached the outskirts of Paris, the sun began streaming through the clouds. Grand-Mère stayed quiet most of the way, but Uncle Laurent and Eriq spent the time chatting. They talked about different businesses, including several silk markets Eriq had seen. Catherine stopped listening, concentrating on the farms that now lined the road, but when Uncle Laurent asked Eriq about their printing company, she focused on their conversation again.

“What role do you play?”

“Pawn,” Eriq said, and then he grinned.

“You seem to have a head for business. Why do they not give you more responsibility?”

Eriq shrugged his shoulders.

Catherine leaned forward and said, “Because my brother is witless.”

Grand-Mère put her hand on Catherine's back and said, “He is not, not at all. He is brilliant. Eriq and Catherine have no idea what all Jules has done for both of our families.”

Catherine stiffened. She had not meant to offend her grandmother.

“Perhaps he is behind the times, though? Maybe too provincial? Too focused on religion?”

Grand-Mère shook her head again. Looking from Catherine to Eriq, she said quietly but firmly, “We will not speak of private matters in a careless way.”

Uncle Laurent raised his eyebrows, Eriq shrugged, and then they all continued on in silence. Catherine was not used to her grandmother being testy. She turned back toward the window and watched the fields and woods pass by.

It was late morning by the time they arrived at Versailles. Catherine pulled back the blinds and strained her neck to see the enormous palace and endless grounds. Both seemed to go on forever. Uncle Laurent's driver dropped them off at the back. The coachman helped them down and then a butler escorted them into a large foyer.

“I will join you shortly,” Uncle Laurent told them. “Believe me, I will not miss anything important. Suzanne will prattle on for at least an hour about her own life before she is ready to speak of anything or anyone else.”

The butler led the way to a staircase and then up to the second floor. Most of the doors along the corridor were closed, but one was open as they passed by. The room was beautiful with plush furniture, gold wallpaper, and heavy red drapes. At last they came to the end of the hall, and the butler rapped on a door and then opened it.

A woman in a white wig and black dress came toward them, her arms outstretched. In her late fifties, she was striking if not exactly beautiful.

Grand-Mère stepped forward.

“Yvonne!”

“Suzanne!”

The women exchanged kisses and then held each other at arm's length.

“You have not changed a bit,” Grand-Mère said.

“Oh, do not be ridiculous. Of course I have. And you have too.”

“Well, I have a head start on you,” Grand-Mère said.


Oui
,” Suzanne said. “And you are a great-grandmother now.”

Catherine was pleased to know the woman had read all of her letter.

“How is Amelie?”

“Better. So is the baby. And this is Catherine.”

“Finally,” Suzanne said, giving her a kiss. “I am absolutely delighted to meet you at last.”

After introducing Eriq as well, Grand-Mère thanked Suzanne for allowing the visit.

“It's providential that you came when you did. I will be leaving Versailles soon. It has been good to be back though.” Lowering her voice, she added, “No thanks to Louis, I might add.”

Catherine realized she was speaking about the conflict that had occurred between her and the king many years ago, the one that ended with him sending her away.

Suzanne lowered her voice even further. “He may have intially reinstated me to please his mother, but the king was not happy with me until Madame de Maintenon became his new
favourite
. Now he tolerates me at least.”

Catherine wondered if Jules had been right when he said Suzanne would be no help to them because she held no sway with the king. Perhaps they had come all this way for nothing.

Suzanne led them to a plush sitting area and then addressed Catherine once they were settled. “Did your grandmother tell you why the king despises me so?”

Catherine's face grew warm. “She said only that you opposed him in a matter of propriety and he resented you for it.”

Suzanne laughed. “Yvonne, you are too discreet. You were welcome to share the details.”

Grand-Mère folded her hands in her lap without responding, obviously uncomfortable, especially once Suzanne turned back to Catherine and began her tale.

“There was a secret door the king had installed to the sleeping room where the young ladies stayed,” she said. “The king would… well, to put it delicately, make frequent visits. Being a woman of morals, I couldn't tolerate the way he was taking advantage of the innocent girls.”

Catherine sat straight and kept completely still as her face began to grow warm.

“Perhaps I was presumptuous to do so, but because of my position with the Queen Mother I dared to have the door removed one day and filled it in with a wall to protect the young women. The king discovered what I had done late one night.” She smiled a little. “Of course, he was furious. That is why he banished me and my husband.”

“Oh, my,” Catherine managed to say. She could not help but wonder what had happened to the young ladies. Perhaps the king had the door put back in. Or perhaps he was shamed into behaving. But she doubted it.

“Given all of that…” Suzanne turned back to Grand-Mère. “I am guessing you're here because you want my assistance. I will do what I can.”


Merci,
” Grand-Mère murmured and then said, in a clear voice, “Is Madame de Maintenon sympathetic at all?”

“To the plight of the Huguenots?”

Grand-Mère nodded.

“She is conflicted but agrees with the king that a certain stubbornness is involved. Would converting be that much of a problem?”

Grand-Mère smiled but did not answer.

“Madame is in a precarious situation,” Suzanne added. “She fears if she asks for protection of the Huguenots that it may lead her enemies to claim that she is still a secret Protestant.” Suzanne waved her hand as if that would never happen. Then she smiled. “You will be happy
to hear she is the reason the king has been more virtuous, both in his actions and his faith. Also the dress in court has become more modest under Madame de Maintenon's influence, and others are copying her
fontage
, or top-knot, as she likes to call it.” Suzanne touched her own headdress. “And her darker gowns. Of course, the younger women still dress in a provocative manner, although they are wearing the top-knots too.”

Suzanne turned her attention toward Catherine. “In fact, I have a headpiece that would look fabulous with your gown. It has gold roses wired onto purple lace. I will be right back.”

Catherine shot Grand-Mère a questioning look but only received a shrug in return. Eriq gave her a smile, though. Suzanne returned a few minutes later, carrying a top-knot made of lace, wire, gold ribbon, and roses. It was at least six inches high.

“Put it on,” Suzanne said, handing it to Catherine. “Because I am in mourning, I cannot wear it for another year. It will be out of style by then.”

Catherine did as she said, securing it on top of the half bun that the maid had fixed that morning and arranging the lace in the back.

“Lovely,” Susanne said. “Please take it.”


Merci
.” Catherine had never worn anything like it before and felt as if her head might fall forward. She sat up as straight as she could.

Suzanne paused to straighten a vase of irises on the table and then retook her seat. “Yvonne, back to what we were speaking of… I spoke to Madame de Maintenon this morning about your predicament.”

“Oh?”

“She was sympathetic. Perhaps she will be available later…”

“She is here now?”

“Of course. She's down the hall, but just for a short time. The politics… well, they tire her. She has a home nearby.”

“I see.”

“An artist—Jean-Charles Nocret, the son of Jean Nocret. He is working on two portraits of her.” Suzanne's eyes twinkled conspiratorially. “In fact, she has promised me the smaller of the paintings. She
said if my mother were still alive, she would give it to her, so she wants me to have it.”

“How marvelous,” Grand-Mère said.

A smile spread across Suzanne's face. “It may be worth something someday if the king actually marries her. Of course, then he might not be in favor of me having one of the portraits…”

Grand-Mère nodded.

Eriq shifted in his chair.

“Oh, goodness,” Suzanne said. “I have gone on and on. We were discussing your safety.” She leaned forward. “It is rumored that the Edict of Nantes will be completely reversed.”

Grand-Mère grew pale. “I was afraid of that. When?”

“At least by next year. Maybe even by this autumn.” She clasped her hands together. “I am very worried about you—” She glanced from Grand-Mère to Catherine to Eriq. “All of you, honestly.”

Grand-Mère gave a slight nod.

Suzanne sighed. “But I know you are as devoted to your faith as I am to mine.”

Grand-Mère nodded again, this time more noticeably.

“Well, then, what do you want me to do? Find a buyer for your property? Help you secure passage out of the country?”

Catherine took a deep breath. Suzanne
could
help them.

“I appreciate your kindness,” Grand-Mère said. “But what I hope for is a broader letter of protection, similar to what you wrote before but to give me unhindered mobility and not just for this trip.”

Catherine's mouth dropped open, but then she remembered her manners and closed it. She knew better than to voice her concerns out loud, but why was Grand-Mère not asking for more help than that? What about their plans to leave the country? What about London?

“It would need to include protection from the dragoons.”

“Of course,” Suzanne answered


Merci
,” Grand-Mère said. “And could you include that any others in my care will not be accosted either?”

Suzanne gave her a puzzled look.

“I am thinking of my great-granddaughter. The
bébé
, specifically.”

“Of course,” Suzanne said, rising and stepping across the room toward a desk.

Perhaps Grand-Mère would ask for more assistance once the letter was written. As Suzanne sat at her desk and retrieved a piece of paper and a pen, Uncle Laurent entered the suite. After greeting him, Suzanne said she was writing a letter of protection—two actually, so that they could keep one with them and have the other stashed away in a safe place.

Suzanne held up her index finger and then turned toward Catherine and Eriq. “The young people would most likely prefer to look around. Wouldn't you rather do that than just sit here waiting while we draft this letter?”

Eriq nodded.

“Go out into the gardens,” she said. “Come back in a half hour. We will have luncheon then.”

Catherine gave Grand-Mère a questioning look and was answered with a nod.

As they left the suite, her mind returned to the lecherous tale of the king. She shook her head, but then her top-knot started to sway and she put her hand up to stop it.

“I don't know who would think of touching you with that thing on,” Eriq said, as if reading her mind.

She laughed at his words, patted the top-knot, and cooed, “My protector.” But then she took it off, afraid it might plummet from her head.

Eriq turned serious. “You know I would not let anyone hurt you.”

She did know but was not sure what to say in return, so she remained silent. They continued halfway down the hall until they heard voices, and then Eriq stopped just before they reached an open doorway. A woman sat in a chair, her back to them, with her elbow on the arm and her head resting on her hand. She was speaking to at least two others they could not see, discussing something about Suzanne's nephew and his interest in acquiring properties.

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