Part 14 (1/2)

'Yes, Madame.'

'Well then, as a good Catholic, does it not become you to try to turn his footsteps in the right direction?'

'I ... I had not thought that my duties would lie that way.'

'And now you hear they do.'

'Yes, Madame.'

'You do not seem to relish this task.'

'It is so unexpected, Madame. I had not thought about religion. I ... I will do my best.'

'I shall demand nothing less,' said Catherine with a smile, and the smile made Louise s.h.i.+ver. 'Now, child,' continued the Queen, 'do not look so glum. You know that I reward those who work with me and for me. Make a good Catholic of your lover and I will see if I can turn him into your husband.'

'My husband! But he is a King, Madame, and ... married.'

'He is a King that is true. And far above you in rank, my dear. But I doubt not that if you brought him into a mood in which he wished for marriage with you, he would insist on it; and how could he be refused? He is married, you say. Yes, he is married to the Queen of Navarre. I do not think, my dear, that the Pope would withhold a divorce from a Catholic King who wished to free himself from his heretic wife. Now go and think on what I have said. But remember discretion. It would be unwise to repeat at this stage a word of anything I have said to you to any. Pray remember that.'

Louise came out of the apartment dizzy with excitement. Had she heard correctly? Had Catherine really held out to her a promise of marriage with the King of Navarre to her, who was merely the daughter of the Seigneur de L'Isle Rouet? And all she had to do to achieve this was to make him change his religion!

When Louise had left her, Catherine sent for the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal of Lorraine.

She was pleased with herself. She had lulled the fears of these men by showing them her hostility to Jeanne of Navarre and the Huguenot cause and supplying two of its leaders with mistresses, so creating a court scandal which must be angering the Coligny brothers whilst it struck right at the heart of the Huguenot Party by bringing into disrepute two of its most prominent leaders.

So far so good; but Catherine did not want this to go too far. She must keep these rival houses of Bourbon and Guise at odds with one another; for if they were to unite and band together against her, she could not hope to hold out against them.

She did not believe for a moment that the beautiful Louise would be able to induce Antoine to change his religion, but it was necessary to make the Guises believe that that was the intention. She thought she understood these fanatically religious people. They never changed. Who would have believed that the cruel and ambitious Francis de Guise could be such an ardent Catholic? They were all alike, scheming, cunning and unscrupulous except where their religion was concerned.

The Duke and his brother were ushered in. They bowed low over her hand.

'Welcome, Messieurs. What think you of the way things go with the Bourbon brothers?'

'I should enjoy,' said the Cardinal with his sly malicious smile, 'seeing the faces of Mesdames Jeanne and Eleonore when they hear of the frolics in which their husbands indulge.'

'To let them both get caught up by mistresses was a master stroke,' said the Duke with a laugh. 'I myself think that what Antoine does is immaterial. Conde is another matter.'

'Conde,' said the Cardinal, 'is the stronger of the two.'

'But not strong enough to say ”No” to Mademoiselle de Limeuil,' added Catherine with her gusty laugh.

'He is soft with women, but a formidable enemy,' put in the Duke. 'Conde must be watched. The greatest mistake that was ever made was to free him after the death of King Francis.' The Duke glared at Catherine with something like his old arrogance as he said this. 'The safest place for Conde's head is on the battlements not on that elegant body of his.'

Catherine said: 'I like not injustice. Conde defended his honour and it was agreed that he should go free.'

'Not by us, Madame,' the Cardinal reminded her.

She bowed her head in silence, and thought: Of all my enemies, I hate most this Cardinal. Even more than I hate the Duke, I hate him. Would to G.o.d I could find some way of despatching him!

'It may be that concerning Conde you are right, Monsieur le Cardinal,' she said soothingly. 'How can we know? But these Bourbon Princes are popular with the people. I think that had we executed Conde on that occasion there would have been risings throughout France.'

'Madame,' said the Duke, 'the whole question of religion has to be decided sooner or later. It is your behaviour towards the Huguenots which has made them arrogant, too sure of themselves.'

'I think, my lord Duke, I have shown you that I am a true Catholic.'

The Guises were insolently silent, and she could not quell the fear which came to her as she looked at them. The Bourbons inspired no such fear. The Duke was a strong man; the Cardinal was an infinitely cunning one; as a team they were irrepressible, impossible to subdue except by death; and the only death one could consider for such men was a secret, silent stab in the back.

'I asked you to come, Messieurs,' she said, 'that I might give you further proof of my friends.h.i.+p for you, of my loyalty to the faith we mutually hold. I propose to make Catholics of Antoine and Conde.'

'You never will. They are ardent heretics. Their wives would not let them be good Catholics.'

'Their wives would not let them sport with their mistresses if they could help it, Messieurs! But these two gentlemen have, nevertheless, managed to elude the control of their very virtuous wives.'

'But their religion, Madame!'

'Louise de la Limaudiere is a very attractive girl, my lord Duke. She is already with child by our little King of Navarre. The Queen of Navarre is not going to be very pleased when this news reaches her. She is going to give our Antoine a piece of her mind, and he, the little c.o.xcomb, flattered and adored by such a beautiful girl as la Limaudiere, is not going to relish a scolding from that less beautiful and shrewish wife of his. I do not despair at all of our Antoine's turning his coat. He can never be of one mind for any length of time.'

'A man's religion, Madame,' said the Cardinal, 'is sacred to him. He may change his women, but not his faith.'

Catherine agreed; and it was now necessary to her plans that Antoine should not change his religion. But she pretended to believe that he would do so.

'He is weak, my lords. He is like a reed in the wind. Jeanne of Navarre she is the danger, for although she is the wife and Antoine the husband, it is she who rules. We can do nothing with her except have her branded as a heretic, hand her over to the Inquisition, or have the marriage annulled and our King of Navarre married to a wife more suited to him.'

The Guise brothers were interested now. The Cardinal's long white hands stroked his gorgeously coloured robes; the Duke's eye began to water above his scar.

'And whom have you in mind, Madame, for the King of Navarre's second wife?'

'Your niece, my lords. Mary Queen of Scots. What think you of my choice?'

'An excellent one,' said the Cardinal.

'To that I agree,' added the Duke.

They smiled at the Queen Mother, being once more a.s.sured that she was their friend. Catherine wanted to laugh. They were as easily duped as la Limaudiere. Did they really think that she would bring back to France their little spy? Evidently they did!

Holy Mother! thought Catherine. How can I fail when these great men are such fools!

The Spanish Amba.s.sador, de Chantonnay, was a man well versed in the ways of intrigue. De Chantonnay had been trained in diplomacy from his childhood; he had inherited his astuteness and his boldness from his father, Chancellor Nicholas de Granvelle; and Philip of Spain had chosen wisely when, at this time, he had decided that de Chantonnay was the man best fitted to serve his interests in France.

De Chantonnay was not, therefore, unaware of the traps which had been set for the Bourbon Princes, and since the ladies who had lured them into these traps were members of the Escadron Volant, and he knew very well what the duties of that esoteric band comprised, it was no great feat of cerebration to determine who had set the traps. The Queen Mother! But whether out of fear or friends.h.i.+p for the Guises he was not sure.

The Guises were the allies of Spain; the Queen Mother, by her prevaricating behaviour since little Charles had been on the throne, had been the subject of many disquieting letters which de Chantonnay had sent to his King. Philip of Spain did not trust the Queen Mother, for he accepted his Amba.s.sador's keen judgment; and de Chantonnay was certain that the waverings from Bourbon to Guise were due to her desire to use their friends.h.i.+p whenever she might need it, and by so doing to keep her own power.

However, de Chantonnay's one object was to work for his master, and for this purpose he was spy and intriguer as well as Amba.s.sador. He had his spies just as the Queen Mother had, and he knew that Louise had been instructed to induce the King of Navarre to change his religion. This suited Spain; but Spain wanted more of the King of Navarre than his conversion.

For this reason de Chantonnay ingratiated himself with Antoine, flattered him, admired him, and made a friend of him. Antoine was the easiest man at court with whom to make friends. Flattery was all he needed, and that was cheap for a Spanish Amba.s.sador to provide.

De Chantonnay talked and drank with Antoine.

'Ah,' said the Spaniard, 'what a great and glorious future might be your Majesty's if you would but play the right cards. I cannot doubt that you will, for I'd wager with anyone that there's a fine head for business beneath those handsome curls. Do you know, my lord King, that there are some who are deluded enough to think that because a man is handsome he is a fool?'