For the next few months Mary prepared for the visit. To see her dear
mother again! It seemed as if the seven-year-old's prayers had been
answered, for every night since she had arrived in France she had added
a wistful request that her mother come and see her.
She worked extra hard on her Latin; memorized French poetry and studied
history as much as she could. She pestered her guardian, John Erskine,
who had remained in France with her, to tell her all about what was
happening in Scotland. He tried to explain about the continuing
problems with the English, but Mary could not really grasp any of it.
She understood only that her mother was coming.
Marie de Guise landed in France during the summer of 1550, and she
brought a number of Scottish lords with her. King Henri II and Queen
Catherine prepared a royal reception in Rouen, and Mary's tutor made
her memorize a long, formal greeting to her mother. But when Mary,
trembling with excitement, was brought into the salle where her mother
was waiting, she forgot her speech and flew into her mother's arms.
She hugged her so fiercely her arms crushed the Queen Mother's stiff
petticoats and made them crackle. It was not until then that she knew
she had not really hugged anyone without restraint since she had come
to France.
"Oh, Mamanl" she cried, and to her embarrassment tears flooded her
eyes.
Her mother was stroking her hair, clasping her to herself. Mary's head
came up to her mother's bosom, and her tears were staining the jewelled
bodice.
"My dearest, beloved daughter!" Marie de Guise took Mary's face in her
hands and lifted it up. "Look how you have grown! Soon we cannot call
you petite Reinette at all." She looked around at the entire court and
said, "Soon she will be old enough to have her own royal household, and
appoint her own officials!"
Mary could not imagine why her mother would say that; she was not even
old enough yet to insist that Francois could take his pet bear with him
when they changed palaces. But she squeezed her mother's hand and
looked up at her adoringly. Just to hear that almost-forgotten voice
was heaven.
Marie de Guise joyfully met with her brothers, and the three of them
would sit down with little Mary and discuss their plans for her. Her
education, under the direction of the Cardinal, seemed to be
progressing well; her mother was pleased.
"I believe you can start studying Greek next year," Uncle Cardinal
said. "Your Latin is quite sound. Do you not think so?" he asked his
sister.
"Mine is not sound enough to judge!" she said. "But certainly, add
Greek if you feel she is ready. And my dear le Balafre what is your
assessment of the household situation?"
The muscular Duke stirred on his seat; clearly, sitting for a long time
was hard for him. "I think we must propose a separate household as
soon as it is feasible. But I warn you, the King and Queen prefer to
have her as part of their own establishment."
"But I don't want a separate household!" cried Mary, suddenly. "I
would rather live with the royal children, and especially Francois."
Marie's eyes widened. "Oh, so you like Francois?"
"Yes." Why were they all asking these questions?
"That's good, that's very good," said Uncle le Balafre. "But remember,
you have the rest of your life to live with him. As you bcome a little
older, it will be better for you to have your own establishment."
"But why? And better for whom?"
"For you, child, for you," said Uncle Cardinal. "If Francois can see
you every day, as if you were a sister, why, then, he may come to think
of you that way rather than as a wife."
"But I will miss him!" She did not want to be sent to a separate
household, where there would undoubtedly be too many adults.
"Well, we shall see," said her mother soothingly. "It may not come to
pass at all."
When they were alone, her mother took pleasure in inspecting her
quarters. She had Mary show her all the chests of beautiful clothes,
the bags and shelves of toys, the carved furniture that was scaled to
child's size. At length she sat down on one of the little chairs,
overhanging it. She took Mary's hands and looked deep into her eyes.
"Now for the truly important things," she said solemnly, and Mary
wondered what these could be.
"Yes, Marram?"
"Your faith. Have you been preparing that as well as your school
lessons? For it is much more important."
"Yes, Maman. We have a chaplain here, he's a very kind and learned man
"
"It is time you had a confessor! I will see to it that a suitable one
is assigned to you, to you alone. Do you understand?"
Mary started to answer when she saw how tired her mother looked. There
were little lines around her eyes, and her mouth did not smile
naturally or easily. "You are troubled," she finally said, instead of
answering. "What is it that troubles you so?"
"The hardness of the world," the Queen Mother finally said. She
thought of the scant thanks she had gotten for her pains in arranging
for the Scots prisoners to be freed from the French galleys. No sooner
were they free than Knox and his fellows began to pour venom on her,
attacking her religion and her government. "Yet I would still tell you
and I wish you to remember this always that kindness and goodness are
the paramount virtues, no matter what the world is like."
"I will always try to be kind and good, Maman," said Mary. "I will
remember that you told me so."
Mary was both happy and sad. Happy because there was to be a grand
fete, three days of them in fact, with archery, tennis, dancing, and
hunting. Sad because it was in farewell to her mother, who was
returning to Scotland. Still, it had been a year. She was so
fortunate to have had her mother with her for a year that the time had
seemed compressed, with each day only a half-day's length.
"My dear daughter," said Marie, "tonight you will be allowed to stay up
almost until dawn. After all, you are now eight years old, and there's
to be torchlight hunting after the midnight banquet set up in the
fields. If you become too sleepy, you can just lie down in one of the
tents."
"Like a soldier!" she said. "I have always wanted to play at
soldiers."
Her mother gave her an amused look. "I pray you haven't already done
so. People will talk!"
"But why? Isabella of Castile led her troops, and she was a great
Catholic queen."
Marie smiled at Mary. "And is that your desire, my love, to be a great
Catholic queen?"
"Oh, yes. It is my dream. But I shan't burn heretics. I hate
killing."
Marie was pleased with the way Mary had always shown interest in her
faith. The addition of her own private confessor had definitely
speeded her spiritual progress in the last year. "Everyone does," she
said. "It is a pity that it is sometimes necessary." She turned to
look around the quarters. Now was the time to tell her. Surely Mary
had noticed the absence of Lady Fleming. "I have a wonderful surprise
for you," she began. "There is to be another addition to your
household, someone I have chosen for you Madame Rene'e Rallay will
replace Lady Fleming as your governess. She is a very astute, clever
woman from the region of Touraine."
"Is she young? And where is Lady Fleming?" Mary's questions were open
and happy.
"No, she's not young in fact, I think she's in her middle forties."
"Oh!" Mary's face fell. "That's old!"
"But she is full of joy and wisdom. You will come to love both sides
of her."
"Is her hair grey? Does she look old?"
"No, I don't believe so.. You'll like her, I promise."
"But where is Lady Fleming?"
Should she just tell her? Was the child old enough to know? If she
did not, others would. "Lady Fleming has proven herself .. . unsuited
for her position."
Flamina's mother, unfit? "How? How?"
"She has .. . she is ... with child by King Henri II!" The shame of
it! And now both the King's wife and the King's true mistress had
turned on the Scottish woman and demanded her ouster. Kings would be
kings, but foreign governesses must pay the price.
"What?" Mary's mouth fell open. Lady Fleming, taking off her clothes
and getting into bed with the King? Mary had seen paintings of naked
women all allegorical, of course in Diane's apartments, but that was
different. "Oh!" Now she, too, was flooded with shame. Then she
immediately thought of poor Flamina. Her mother would be sent away,
and then she would have a bastard sibling as well.
"I am taking her back to Scotland with me," said her mother. "There
she can bear the child in privacy. Let this be a lesson to you. Women
often serve as men's pastimes, and there is nothing more past than a
spent pastime. The King and Queen will go on as before, and so will
Madame de Poitiers, but Lady Fleming is ruined."
"Oh!" Mary started to cry, thinking of her playmate and her mother.
Marie put her arm around her. How tall the child was growing! She
would have the height of the Guises, then. "Not ruined, truly. I am
sure King Henri will be generous with her. Now, then, let us think of
today's festivities. First the archery. The Scots Guards will be
demonstrating their skill, and then the rest of us. You like shooting,
do you not?"
The afternoon's archery contest had been thrilling. The court was
presently at Blois, and the butts were set up in the surrounding fields
near a hunting park and orchard. In the just-harvested fields, rows of
golden stubble stretched away toward the Loire, giving off a warm
sleepy scent. Overhead the sky scattered hazy light that was gentle
and friendly. The Scots Guards, of course, stunned the courtiers and
their guests with an exhibition of their prowess, and Mary was duly
impressed with Rob MacDonald's ability to hit his mark from a hundred
and fifty yards. She insisted on being the one to present his reward,
and as he received it on bended knee in the field, he winked at her.
She almost giggled, but managed not to.
Gathered around were King Henri II, who then languidly took his turn at
shooting, and Mary's Guise uncles: not only the eldest, le Balafre (who
of course was a superb shot) but his three younger brothers, Claud,
Francois, and Rene, whom she rarely saw. Claud, the Duc d'Aumale, was
twenty-five, Francois was seventeen and already named Grand Prior of
the Galleys, and Rene", the Marquis d'Elboef, was sixteen. D'Aumale
and d'Elboef wore skintight hose and drank too much wine, and smiled at
her as if they truly liked her.
They are so different from my Scottish relatives, she thought. All the
Guises and there are so many of them! seem to be either soldiers or
churchmen. I know there are four more, and they are all either priests
or nuns.
Then ladies of the court took their turns shooting. Diane de Poitiers
came forward, wearing her customary black and white this gown was in
the Grecian fashion, loose and flowing, but fastened with black straps.
Even her bow and arrows were ebony inlaid with ivory. She stepped up
to the shooting line and shot easily, coming close to the target. The
King and Catherine de Medicis both congratulated her warmly.