The Reluctant Queen (9 page)

But it hurt her that they were becoming so estranged. They had used to be such good friends, and now they were forever bickering.

Mademoiselle de Rebours, together with several other maids of honour and gentlemen of the court, duly accompanied the small party to take the waters. She wrote regularly to Margot, keeping her mistress informed of the spiteful comments which Fosseuse was saying about her, and how disrespectful the girl was.

Margot took little notice, knowing that Rebours herself was furiously jealous of Fosseuse, having lost her own place in the King’s affections. She did not trust the woman, who was two-faced enough to be likewise slandering her mistress to Fosseuse.

Mademoiselle de Rebours was indeed bitter over the treatment she had received at Margot’s hand, and had continued to keep a close eye on her rival. Now, being in the girl’s company every day as they took the waters, her suspicions deepened, and she rather thought she understood why Fosseuse had changed.

One wet afternoon, when Fosseuse deigned to join the other ladies for needlework, Rebours watched with interest as she reached down to pick up a skein of silk that she’d dropped. Her movements were awkward, the girl instinctively resting a protective hand upon her belly, and even though she was still as slender as a reed, Rebours knew, in that moment, that the King’s mistress was pregnant. A great surge of envy shot through her. It should have been herself in that condition, not this silly child. And it would have been so, had not Queen Margot ejected her from the King’s bed out of revenge for that incident over Mass in Pau.

But Margot herself would surely suffer more, were these suspicions proved to be true. Rebours smiled, for she would take great pleasure in seeing the Queen brought low and humiliated by such a scandal.

She made it her business to engage empty-headed little Fosseuse in conversation as they plied their needles, bathed in the warm waters, or sipped the foul tasting beverage that was supposedly good for their health. She pretended to be her friend, and, as the ladies were changing for dinner one evening, offered to lend Fosseuse a pretty cap which matched her new gown.

‘You are so enchantingly beautiful I am not surprised the King is besotted. Allow me to fix the cap for you and pin up your lovely hair. It will suit you much better than it does me.’

Fosseuse was vain enough to accept these compliments in good faith. ‘How very generous you are.’

‘It is nothing. I too was loved by the King once, but confess I was secretly relieved when the
liaison
ended. I suffer badly with my health, as you know, headaches and the like, which are most trying. You can be assured that I feel no jealousy at having lost him to you, for you deserve to be loved by a king.’

Fosseuse looked at the older woman, wide-eyed and innocent, believing every false word. ‘You are most kind.’

‘And you are so young and healthy.’ Rebours smiled, stepping back to admire the result of her labours. ‘There, you look utterly radiant, as if lit by a glow from within. I might almost suspect that you were … but dear me, no, it is none of my business. Forgive me, I should not have spoken.’

Fosseuse blushed enchantingly, and again instinctively rested a hand on her stomach as she gave a light laugh of delight. ‘Oh dear, you have guessed. Is it so obvious? I thought I had disguised my condition so cleverly by loosening my skirts.’

Rebours smiled through gritted teeth, almost faint with the heat of her rage. There was nothing clever about this silly chit. ‘Then it is true? You are indeed
enceinte
?’

Fosseuse nodded, looking suddenly shy and afraid. ‘It was meant to be a secret.’

‘Do not worry, no one but myself has guessed. Does the King know?’

‘Oh yes, I could not keep it from Henry. He has promised …’

Rebours was instantly alert. ‘What? It is all right, child, your secret is quite safe with me. What has the King promised?’

Fosseuse’s lips curled into a complacent smile, preening herself slightly as she smoothed a hand over the tiny mound of her belly. ‘It is still a secret, although it will be known soon enough, I dare say, for he has promised to stand by me.’

‘My goodness, what can you mean? You surely aren’t suggesting that he means to divorce the Queen and marry you?’ The jealous fury that roared through Rebours’s veins at this news was almost unbearable. This was too much. A bastard child was one thing, being offered a crown quite another entirely. And it could so easily have been herself.

 
Fosseuse pouted. ‘Why should he not? The Queen has not done her duty by him, chooses instead to cavort with her lovers.’ The foolish creature did not seem to recognize the irony of this remark. ‘Although, I confess I am terrified of telling her. The King refuses to do so, saying it is my responsibility, since I am officially still in her suite.’

Rebours saw her chance and snatched it. ‘We return home soon, would you like me to break the news to Her Majesty for you, my dear? She might take it better from one who has been with her longer.’

Tears welled in the young girl’s eyes. ‘Oh, I should like that above all things. Thank you so much. What a dear friend you are,’ and as they embraced, Rebours allowed herself a secret smile of satisfaction. This was the moment she had dreamed of ever since Pau. This was her opportunity for the sweetest revenge.

Margot listened to her lady-in-waiting’s tale with sinking heart. She had never liked Rebours, who was a born liar, and it was plain the woman could scarcely hide the delight she felt in informing her of that chit’s condition. Margot, however, being the queen she was, held fast to her dignity.

‘So, it is true that Mademoiselle Fosseuse is
enceinte
. It does not surprise me. If you take your vessel to the well it will come back full.’ There was a small silence, for that had not been true in her own case. Margot saw by the smirk on Rebours’s face that she too had recognized the slip.

Margot felt utterly humiliated, filled with resentment that this girl could so easily fall pregnant, while she had tried so long for a child. She could also see that the thoughts of her lady-in-waiting mirrored her own exactly.

Where then did this leave the Queen of Navarre
?

Rebours continued the tale, her face solemn, while inside she could barely contain her glee. ‘Fosseuse has openly boasted to me that the King means to stand by her.’

‘Stand by her? In what way?’ Dear God, would Henry demand a divorce and actually marry the silly creature? Surely even he could not be so reckless?’

‘Apparently, she imagines he might marry her.’

This confirmation of her worst fear fell upon Margot’s ear like a stone.

‘You think my husband might choose a silly young girl over a Daughter of France?’

‘It is not my place to surmise what the King means or might choose to do. I repeat only what the
girl
believes. Mayhap she has misunderstood his promises.’

‘Or you are misrepresenting them to me. Send her to me at once, Rebours, and remind her to loosen her skirts well to disguise it. We must at all costs avoid a scandal.’

‘Your Majesty.’ Rebours dipped a curtsey and hurried away, for once content to do the Queen’s bidding.

Fosseuse showed no sign of contrition. She stood before Margot, Queen of this small kingdom and wife of the man whose child she carried, smiling with a radiant beauty as she sank into a deep curtsey. For once in her life Margot was consumed with envy. Why had she never quickened with a child? In all these years, and despite several lovers, there had been no sign. Was she barren? Would Henry ultimately put her to one side for that very reason?

‘Do you have something to tell me, child?’

‘I know not what you mean, Your Majesty.’

Margot was finding great difficulty holding on to her patience, even as she smiled kindly upon the girl. ‘You have for some time estranged yourself from me, and, I am told, done me many ill offices with the King my husband. Yet the regard I once had for you, and the esteem which I still entertain for your family, makes me wish to help, for I know you are in trouble. I beg you, therefore, not to conceal the truth. It is in both our interests that you are open and honest with me. You are still under my protection, and I would help you as if I were your mother. Is it true that you carry the King’s child?’

Fosseuse gave a careless shrug of her pretty shoulders. ‘It is true.’

‘You are sure?’

‘I am certain.’

Margot rose, wishing to avoid the girl’s insolent gaze, and walked over to the window. ‘Then we must decide what is best to be done.’

‘Is that not up to the King?’

Margot would very much like to have slapped her. ‘The King will need my support in this, as will you, my dear, if we are to avoid a scandal.’

Suddenly brisk and businesslike Margot returned to her seat, clasping her hands loosely in her lap, rather as her mother the Queen would do when faced with a difficult interview.

‘What I propose is this: that I take a brief sojourn from court, ostensibly to avoid the contagious disorder that has broken out in the town. I will go to Mas d’Agenois, a house belonging to the King my husband that is situated in a quiet spot, and you must come with me. We will stay there until you are safely delivered of the child. Meanwhile, the King will go off hunting in some other part of the country. In this way we can put a stop to the scandalous reports which are already rampant about court.’

Fosseuse had been listening to all of this with increasing alarm. The prospect of being confined in a strange house in a remote region with this queen, the wife of her lover, and daughter of Catherine de Medici, filled her with terror. She had heard of the Italian methods, and she had no wish to find herself, and no doubt her child, poisoned and done away with.

‘No, no, I will not go! You cannot make me.’

‘Would you risk scandal? Do you intend to have your bastard in full sight of the entire court, as if he were a royal child, a future king?’

Fosseuse started, her face a picture of guilt, revealing all too clearly that was exactly what she intended. ‘The King will stand by me. He has sworn it. I will not go with you!’ And turning on her heel she ran from the room.

Margot remained where she was, in shock for some long minutes. It seemed that on this occasion Rebours had spoken nothing but the truth. The question of marriage must indeed have been discussed between them, and her own future was now in jeopardy.

The court was soon alight with the scandal. Fosseuse begged the King not to send her away, swearing that the Queen had threatened her very life. Seeing her fears, Navarre could not find it in his heart to do so. Besides, how could he live without her? He went instead to his wife.

Never had Margot seen her husband so angry.

‘Fosseuse claims you threatened to kill her. How could you be so cruel?’

‘What nonsense! The girl is hysterical and exaggerates. I suggested only that she and I spend a little time away from court, somewhere quiet until after the child is born. How else are we to avert scandal?’

‘You must have put it badly and frightened her. You can be far too brusque and insensitive at times, Margot, and she is but a sweet, innocent girl.’

‘Not quite so innocent,’ Margot bitterly remarked.

Henry’s face darkened. ‘If anyone claims otherwise, or that she is even with child, I will brand them as liars.’

Margot laughed in disbelief. ‘You cannot seriously expect to hush this matter up? It is the talk of the court already.’

‘I
will
have my way in this matter. I will
not
have it talked about. Do you understand what I am saying, Margot?’

The subject was never again mentioned. In the long months that followed, Navarre blithely went about his business at court as if his mistress’s belly was not growing more rotund by the day. Her condition was plain for all to see, yet everyone looked the other way and pretended not to notice.

The pains began just before dawn. The physician brought the news to the King, ordered to do so by Fosseuse herself as she was in a state of terror. Henry, greatly embarrassed, was at a loss to know what to do for the best. He slept in the same room as his wife, although they occupied separate beds, and he could not think how to own up to the reality of something he had so long denied. How had he ever imagined he could get away with this? Henry still nursed a dread of discovery and scandal. On the other hand, without proper assistance there was a very real danger of losing the child, or worse, the mother, whom he adored.

There seemed no help for it but to admit to the truth at last.

Henry drew back the curtains of his wife’s bed, and gently woke her.

Margot sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. ‘What is it? What has happened?’

 
‘My dear, I have concealed a matter from you which I must now confess. I beg you to forgive me, not to chastise me for never having agreed to discuss it.’

Fully awake now, Margot sighed. ‘Dear, foolish
Enric
. You are referring to Fosseuse’s pregnancy, I assume? I cannot think why you have been so coy and obstinate about this matter when the girl’s condition was plain to see. But what has occurred now? Has she had the baby?’