Threads of Silk (28 page)

“She commanded me to say nothing — ”

“Where did she go to meet him? Quickly! Out with it!”

“To the garden.”

He brushed past into the bedchamber closet, grabbed his scabbard, and strapped it on. “This time, Nenette, there will be no turning of my back.”

“Oh, Monsieur!”

Fabien strode out, snatching up his hat as he went.

ANDELOT,
GARBED IN BLACK
scholar’s cloak with fur collar, walked down the corridor with his Latin book under his arm to join Scholar Thauvet for the morning’s lesson. He looked up to see a severe figure, also in black, striding toward him.

Andelot paused. Was it too late to slip into an antechamber?

“Monsieur Andelot,” Père Jaymin called.

Andelot sighed.

In his dark robe and sandals, Jaymin looked taller than usual with his large, shiny scalp rimmed with thick curling black hair. The large silver cross on his chest flashed in the sunlight coming in through the row of windows that overlooked the front courtyard of Fontainebleau.

“Bonjour, Père Jaymin.”

“You are on your way to Monsieur Thauvet? It must be delayed. You are summoned. Cardinal de Lorraine is waiting in His Majesty’s chambers. Go at once.”

“Surely you do not mean the king’s chambers?” The thought amazed him. He had been in the august company of royalty before now, of course, but the thought of meeting the cardinal there was most curious. “Is Marquis de Vendôme there as well?”

“Non, I saw him rushing toward the garden. It appears he is in an ill-tempered mood this day, for he would not answer my mellow greeting.”

If Fabien were not with the king and cardinal, then Andelot found his call to the royal chamber even more unusual. What could the summons be about?

“Then I had best go to His Majesty,” Andelot said. Père Jaymin detained him.

“Andelot, one moment . . . Have you any notion why your cousin, Comte Maurice Beauvilliers, is holding secret meetings with the Spanish Ambassador Chantonnay?”

Surprised, Andelot turned back. He met the doleful eyes and saw curiosity swimming in the brown pools. “I have not heard of these meetings, Monseigneur. I have not spoken to the comte since my return to Fontainebleau.” He could have added that it was not surprising since Maurice deemed him an enemy and that the feeling was not far from mutual. “Is there something more, Monseigneur?”

“I shall say this as a spiritual instructor, Andelot, and you would be wise to pay heed. If you have one of the forbidden Bibles of the heretics, you should burn it at once and seek pardon at Mass today. The times grow dangerous, even here among the nobles. There are secret heretics among us, and the cardinal is urging King Francis to ferret them and their forbidden literature out into the light.”

Andelot was surprised by his bluntness. He had guessed that Jaymin suspected him of owning a French Bible, but he had expected him to go directly to the cardinal with his suspicion, without so much as a warning.

“Merci, Père Jaymin, but I have not the Scriptures in the French language.”

Jaymin looked doubtful but said no more, and after bidding him adieu, departed on his way.

For a moment Andelot considered the circumstances hedging him in, but he was even more concerned about Marquis Fabien and Rachelle. He knew about the Bible belonging to Fabien’s mother Duchesse MarieLouise and how it was stolen from a chest of heirlooms at Vendôme. Maurice was suspected, but as yet there was no further news about the troubling incident.

Andelot quickened his stride down the corridor. Marquis Fabien had also told him what had taken place at the Amboise dungeon when the Queen Mother met with him. Andelot frowned over the matter, just as he had been doing ever since he learned of it. The very mention of Duc de Guise now made him anxious. That Fabien was at liberty here at court was due only to his agreement to fulfill the Queen Mother’s secret plans. Fabien was as much in danger as the duc.

Andelot wrestled in his mind, wondering how the dark and sinister matter could possibly end well for any of them.

ANDELOT
ENTERED THE ROYAL CHAMBER
with its grand canopied bed and fleur-de-lys in gold. He had heard the king was resting after having expended himself on a hunt. Mary did not look at Andelot when he entered, but her eyes were fixed on the tired face of Francis in his regal chair. He was smiling at her as if receiving strength from her nearness. Andelot felt a surge of sympathy as he saw the king’s wearied condition.

Duc de Guise was moving about restlessly as usual, and the cardinal, in crimson and white, looked down on Francis with a bored expression.

Andelot quietly entered, approached the royal chair where the king sat, and then bowed.

“Your Majesty,” he said quietly.

Francis smiled briefly and gestured toward Mary. Andelot stepped toward the reinette and bowed.

Cardinal de Lorraine extended his pale, slim hand with his clerical ring full of jewels. Andelot bent his head over the hand in obedience, telling himself that to refrain would not be worth the consequence.
If I
must die for my faith, then let it be over the deity of Christ and His blood
atonement. Nodding to Cardinal de Lorraine’s gold ring means naught
to me.

The cardinal put an arm around Andelot’s shoulders. Andelot breathed a whiff of parfume.

“Well, Andelot, I have heard bon things about you from Thauvet. He tells me you have an exceptional thirst for knowledge. I am pleased you are keeping yourself from joining the raucous behavior of the young rapscallions in the Corps des Pages.”

Why would he even care, with his own reputation stained as it was?

“They are a trouble to the towns,” the cardinal was lamenting. “They are mostly scions of the best French nobility, so even I cannot do much to rein them in.”

Andelot doubted that, but as the saying went,
He who keeps his tongue
keeps his life.
The cardinal went so far as to say that, on hearing how Andelot was showing such propensity in his studies, he was going to grant him two hundred extra francs a year just so that he might keep himself in finery.

Andelot was bewildered by this unexpected generosity. It worried him.

“Your thirst for learning has impressed Thauvet, who has said he has seldom taught such a studiously inclined young messire — and so prepared for advanced learning too.”

“I am most grateful, Monseigneur.”

Why is he saying all this now
?
Thauvet had made these statements
weeks ago.

Andelot glanced at King Francis. He was quiet, still looking at Mary in her belle gown of rose and gray damask.

Duc de Guise ceased his pacing. He came up beside his brother the cardinal and stood with hands behind his back. “We have an important announcement, Andelot,” the duc said, nodding to the cardinal for agreement.

“Indeed so,” the cardinal said, his cleric garments of silk and satin rustling.

Andelot looked from one monsieur to the other, feeling most uncomfortable.

The duc gave his curdled smile. “Yes, the past is buried. Amboise and the Huguenot rebellion is all but forgotten.”

Was it? Andelot doubted that.

“So is your unwise action with Prince Charles when you hid to watch the mass beheadings of the Huguenots,” the duc said.

Andelot tensed. He had not deliberately hidden in the court to watch the revolting spectacle, but he would not permit his mind to go back too far.

“You have grown up, to be sure.” Duc de Guise looked at the cardinal for affirmation.

The cardinal nodded, giving Andelot’s shoulder a small friendly shake. “A bon young man, you are, Andelot. A fine nephew.”

Andelot continued to doubt his blood connection to the cardinal and duc. Was he a Guise?

“We have a most important announcement where you are concerned,” the cardinal said.

“Do not keep him guessing, ” Duc de Guise said with a note of feigned cheer.

“You will be sent to the Guise family château in the Duchy of Lorraine in the fall. You will be privileged to live in Lorraine, our own province, and come to know our mother, the Duchesse of Guise, and the rest of our family. Afterward, come next year, we intend to see you admitted to the same theology university I trained at in Paris, the College de Navarre. One day, Andelot, my son, you will follow my steps to become the Cardinal of France.”

Andelot stared at him.
Son?
But that term was merely one of common usage, he hastened to insist to himself.
Cardinal!
They watched him with expressions that told him he should be most proud of the announcement. If he had heard these words before Amboise, before the death of Grandmère, before the arrest of Prince de Condé — then he would have been thrilled at the prospects. But now . . .

“Monseigneur — I find myself speechless.” That, at least, was truthful.

They smiled, obviously satisfied.

The Duchy of Lorraine to the northeast of France. Did he want this
far-reaching change?

He had no doubt they offered him a vast honor, but why? Why such an honor when until recently they had forgotten him. And had he not been found guilty of trying to aid Marquis de Vendôme with his plan to leave France with Rachelle? He had been warned on several occasions to end his friendship with Marquis Fabien. Why then this great honor of being accepted into the Guise family?

“He is too overwhelmed to speak now,” the cardinal said.

Duc de Guise watched him with a benign smile. “That is as expected.”

“And now — ” The cardinal exchanged a look with his brother.

The duc, still wearing a fixed smile, motioned Andelot to sit on a chair. It was unusual to sit when in the presence of the king, and Andelot turned to Francis to see his response. It did seem as though the Guises had all but forgotten he was there. The power of these two men over the throne was amazing.

Andelot felt compassion for Francis. He might have wished to exert his own authority over his oncles by marriage, but he looked cowed, especially by the sneering, dominating cardinal. What was it that made the cardinal resent Francis so much? Mary stood up, as if on cue, and after whispering to him, left the chamber through a crimson-and-gold drapery.

Uneasy, Andelot sat down. The Guises continued standing, looking down at him, now unsmiling.

“Andelot, it is time you knew and understood how the house of Bourbon is a threat to the house of Guise, of which you are now a member,” the cardinal said. “The duc believes that you, too, as a cousin to his son Henry, should feel as strongly as he that our family house should prevail at court. Noblesse oblige, Andelot. We possess the right, now let us fulfill the obligation to prepare to deliver the throne from the dread possibility of rule by that inept Antoine de Bourbon.”

What was he expected to say to such false profundity? How could they speak so plainly of rights to the throne of France and the possibility of Antoine’s rule, when King Francis sat there listening? Francis might be of frail health, but he was not on his deathbed. Why, he and Mary might easily have a son, perhaps more than one. And yet, when Andelot glanced toward Francis, feeling embarrassed for him, he was surprised to see that he appeared amenable to the discussion.