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Authors: Freda Lightfoot

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Afterwards, Gabrielle was one of the first to sink to a low curtsey and offer obeisance to His Majesty, her blue eyes shining as she lifted her gaze to his.

‘Now we can look to our own happiness,’ he whispered, as he raised her with a kiss.

 

It was the end of August before Henry left St Denis, having dealt with various pressing matters. The King and Gabrielle then progressed to Fontainebleau for a much needed rest. Princess Catherine was staying in the palace and Henry thought it would offer him the opportunity to clarify matters with his sister.

The royal party stopped en route at Melun where Henry was urged
to stay close indoors. ‘A
Dominican monk has warned of a likely attempt upon Your Majesty’s life.’

Henry laughed off the threat. ‘I have heard such before but I will not cower in some corner, or live in fear of mad monks.’

‘Nevertheless, Sire, it would be wise to be cautious,’ his nobles urged.

Fortunately the man was arrested as soon as he entered the town, and was found to be carrying a long sharp knife.

Gabrielle was beside herself with fright when she heard. ‘What if he had succeeded?’

‘But he did not succeed, my angel. My men protected me, although we should perhaps be ever wary. No doubt there will be other attempts upon my life. It is the lot of kings to be pursued by fanatics.’

‘But you are so tolerant, so reasonable. Who was this man and why would he wish to kill you?’

‘His name is Pierre Barriére. He is a wheelwright from Orleans, and apparently helped Queen Margot, under the command of Guise, to escape from the Marquis de Canillac. He later entered Margot’s service as a soldier at the garrison of Usson, and has taken it into his foolish head to avenge the Queen for some perceived injustice by killing me, her husband.’

Gabrielle was appalled. ‘The
Queen
, your own
wife
, attempted to have you assassinated?’

‘No, no, my love, she did no such thing. Margot herself also warned me he may make an attempt. She had already rejected his proposal with horror, and dismissed the knave from her service. You are not to fret, all is well, I do assure you.’

The Palace of Fontainebleau had been much neglected during the reign of Henry Trois as he had not cared for country pursuits. Henry Quatre, however, thrived on them, and loved nothing more than hunting in the thick forests that surrounded the chateau. The royal lovers rode side by side, ahead of the rest of the court, savouring an opportunity to be at last alone.

Gabrielle was dressed in a
devantiere
, which was a divided skirt, as she loved to ride astride. It was green, her favourite colour, with silver embroidery both on the hem of the skirts, and on the cuffs of the jacket. Her mantle was lined with green figured satin, and the buttonholes too embroidered in silver, the matching hat sporting a fine feather. The outfit had cost all of two hundred crowns, and Gabrielle thought it very fine.

Every now and then Henry would lean over and whisper some witty nonsense, and Gabrielle’s eyes would sparkle and she would laugh out loud.

‘I would recommend, my love, that since you seem to be starting a headache, you would be well advised to retire to your room early.’ This surprising statement was accompanied by a broad wink.

‘But I feel perfectly well,’ Gabrielle protested.

‘Even more good reason for you to remain in your apartment, for I have news to impart to the Princess Catherine, and her reaction may well give me a headache before the discussion is ended.’

Gabrielle looked instantly troubled. ‘Ah, then I must beg leave to take supper with my ladies in my room this evening. I fear I may have caught a chill.’

‘Very wise, my dear, very wise. The temperature in the dining salon may be somewhat too cold for you.’

 

Exactly as Henry had predicted Catherine erupted in cold fury to the news that she was to be betrothed to the Duke of Bar.

‘There will be no further argument over this, the matter is settled. You are to marry Henri, Duke of Lorraine and de Bar.’

Catherine had not been present at the ceremony of abjuration as she had declared it too painful to witness her own brother abandoning his true religion. This now seemed to her like a double blow.

‘If you wished to adhere me to the House of Lorraine for the sake of peace with your enemies, why not accept the Comte de Soissons? He is a Bourbon too.’

Henry carved himself a second slice of ham and ignored the remark, since his sister refuted any charge that Monsieur le Comte nursed ambitions of his own. ‘De Bar is a fine young man. I am sure you will do well together.’

‘He is a Catholic, and I will not betray our mother, Henry, even if you have.’

Henry paused in his carving to gaze at her with sad eyes. ‘Catarina,’ he said, using her pet name, the one their mother had used when she was but a girl in Nérac. ‘That was unworthy of you.’

Tears sprang into her dark eyes. ‘What am I supposed to think? You no longer care for
my
happiness, only your own. You’ve changed your coat yet again, and I am supposed to follow.’

‘You must do as your own conscience bids you, I shall make no demands upon you in the respect of religion, save to ask you to desist from holding your very public
prêches
. It upsets my counsellors, and it will further annoy and incite the people, should you persist in the practise. As for seeing de Bar’s religion as a hindrance to your acceptance of his offer, it makes no sense. Soissons is likewise a Catholic and you were willing enough to accept him. I believe you once wrote to the Pope offering to abjure the protestant faith yourself, if he would only speak for you.’

Catherine was embarrassed and enraged that he should have discovered her ploy. ‘Do you read my letters? Did you set spies on me?’

Henry avoided answering this charge, since naturally he kept as close an eye as possible on his sister’s affairs. ‘I am simply saying that your argument is illogical.’

‘You would still require a dispensation, as de Bar is yet another cousin.’

Henry chewed happily on his ham. ‘That can be arranged.’

Pushing aside her untouched meal Catherine leaped to her feet. ‘I will never agree to this, Henry. Never!’ And with that she stormed from the dining salon.

 

Gabrielle was pregnant, and the need for a divorce suddenly urgent. Excited by the prospect of a dauphin for France, Henry went at once to Rosny. He wisely kept this snippet of information to himself, at least for the present, until he had achieved his object. Henry wanted no scandal, as there had once been over the Fosseuse incident. This time he meant matters to go more smoothly.

‘I have decided it is time to seek a divorce. I cannot see that Margot would object. Our marriage was arranged without her agreement, without even a written dispensation from the Pope, despite our being cousins which is prohibited by the Church. Her mother and brother forced her to accept our alliance in a supposed bid for peace. Even when she remained resolutely silent at the altar, Henri put a hand to her head and forcibly inclined it in agreement, which the bishop accepted. No more was I given any choice in the matter.’

‘Royal princes and princesses rarely are allowed any choice,’ Rosny dryly commented, thinking of Madame Catherine.

‘Nevertheless, it was a pointless exercise, turning into yet more bloodshed, and although Margot and I rubbed along well enough for a while, there is no reason why she would not now seek a divorce as eagerly as I.’

‘Let us hope that is the case. Sadly, the Queen’s life has been beset with scandal. Even in her mountain retreat, where she was taken as prisoner, she has won round her jailors with her charm, or greater favours if we are to believe the rumour-mongers, and taken control of the castle. She calls it her Ark of Refuge.’

‘Then let her remain there if that is her wish, but she must needs renounce the throne.’

‘Would Your Majesty then seek a new bride?’

Henry’s dark Gascon eyes twinkled merrily. He had no wish at this delicate stage of the proceedings to reveal his true intentions. Rosny was such an old fusspot he would be sure to issue a lecture on the dire consequences of a king marrying his mistress. ‘I would indeed, dear fellow, I would indeed, one I shall choose with great care and discernment. Then we may have a legitimate heir for France.’

‘That is what we all wish for, Sire.’ Rosny considered saying more, but changed his mind. Surely, even romantic Henry would not be so foolish as to attempt to make Madame Gabrielle his queen?

Monsieur Erard, Master of Requests to Queen Margot, was duly dispatched to Usson, carrying letters from the King, and from Rosny, with the instruction to bring back an authorization that they may proceed with the matter with all speed.

Margot’s response, which arrived a few weeks later, delighted the King. She thanked him for his offer of 250,000 crowns to repay her debts, and looked forward to receiving the money, saying she saw no reason why they couldn’t come to agreeable terms, so long as all her needs were met.

‘And what are the extent of those needs, precisely?’ Henry asked, as ever trusting his favourite minister to deal with such tricky matters for him. ‘Did you discover?’

‘I did.’ Rosny consulted his notes. ‘The gift of Usson as a residence, and the return of any other property to which she may be entitled. The Queen also wishes you to continue to pay her the fifty thousand francs a year pension which she enjoyed under the late king, her brother.’

‘Can we arrange that for her, Rosny?’

Rosny sighed. ‘You will need to speak to Sancy, since he is in charge of the treasury, but I see no reason why we should not accommodate Her Majesty. We may have to.’

Beaming with pleasure, Henry went straight to Gabrielle. ‘All is going well,
m
on cher coeur
. I have already written a warm response to the Queen, assuring her of our continued friendship, and that I will all my life care for her welfare.’

‘You did not say that you loved her?’ Gabrielle asked, feeling strangely vulnerable in her delicate condition, and a little jealous of this queen said to be the most beautiful woman in France.

‘Certainly not, my angel. It is you that I love, but Margot and I have generally managed to remain on cordial terms, save for the odd
spat
. It is essential that we remain so now, at least until the papers are signed.’

Gabrielle leaned into his arms, letting him stroke and pet her. ‘You are so good to me, Henry, and I do love you dearly.’

‘Of course you do, my sweet, and I you.’

‘It is just that I find this all so … so degrading. If only the Queen had granted you a divorce when first we met we would have been man and wife by now.’

‘Ah, my love, let us not fret about the past. These matters take time but all is going smoothly, I assure you. Now you must rest and think of the babe.’

A second letter came from Margot early in the new year, less agreeable than the first. It seemed that some busybody from the court had taken it upon themselves to mention Gabrielle d’Estrées as the real reason for the King’s sudden desire for a divorce. The prospect of Henry’s mistress as her successor to the throne, stealing the crown she might have worn, was too much for Margot.

‘I will never yield my rights
à cette décriée baggasse
. I would better wear the crown of the
fleurs de lis
myself.’

Gabrielle wept when she heard the news. ‘But you promised all would be well. I am about to present you with a son, do I not deserve better?’

‘All is not lost, my love, merely delayed. Now we must apply for the sanction of the Holy See. I hoped to avoid involving the Pope, if Margot had been willing to make a declaration before an ecclesiastical judge, but as she refuses to cooperate we have no choice. Once we have the dispensation, I will again speak with her on the matter.’

As pragmatic as ever, Henry philosophically accepted the situation and managed to calm Gabrielle, but his determination to marry his adored mistress was as firm as ever. He also made her status abundantly clear to those around him.

‘My ministers would be wise not to take me for a fool,’ he warned Rosny. ‘I am aware they murmur against her, and their wives turn a cold shoulder. I will have her treated with proper respect.’

Rosny took great care to hide his alarm at this defence of his mistress on the part of the King. It might well be customary to turn a blind eye to a commonly accepted practice, but respect, for a King’s whore, was not normally a requirement. He feared this might presage more serious steps toward elevating her position further, which would be entirely inappropriate. But even Rosny did not risk saying as much out loud. ‘I do not doubt her constancy, Sire.’

 
‘As if reading his counsellor’s mind, Henry continued, ‘She is a person in whom I have complete confidence, to whom I can confide my deepest secrets and concerns. I receive from her in all such matters a familiar and sweet consolation. She is my queen in all but name.’

Rosny obediently inclined his head. ‘There are as many who revere Madame Gabrielle for her kindness and gentleness as decry her. I will see to it that your wishes in this matter are made known.’

BOOK: The Reluctant Queen
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