Intrigued (32 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Intrigued
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“What has happened?” Jasmine demanded.
“Are they gone?” Autumn countered.
“Aye, the king smiling broadly as he went.” She sat down and patted the settee by her side. “Tell me.”
“He wants me for his mistress,” Autumn said frankly. “I have said we will come to Chambord, but what am I to do, Mama?”
“You have no choice,
ma fille,”
Jasmine replied. “If you claim the citizenship of your native land, Autumn, then you reside in France at the king’s pleasure. If you have become French by virtue of your marriage to Sebastian, then you must obey your king.”
Autumn bit her lip. “We could go to . . .”
“We cannot go home until Cromwell’s forces are driven out and King Charles restored to his throne,” Jasmine said quietly. “We could go to Holland or to Rome, I suppose, but what of Madeline? She is the heiress of Chermont. Will you risk her legacy over this matter? You are no virgin protecting your maidenhead,
ma fille.
You are a woman, and sometimes we women make choices we would prefer not to make.”
“Was that how it was with you and Prince Henry, Mama?” Autumn asked astutely.
Jasmine nodded. “While I found him attractive and very exciting,” she said, “I was outraged by the knowledge of what he wanted from me. I can still remember my stepfather, the Earl of BrocCairn, saying to my mother that a handsome, charming young man wished to make love to me, and I would have to yield myself to the inevitable. He scolded me quite roundly for my prudishness, for as he wisely pointed out, I was not being asked to give up my life or my wealth. Still, I would have run back to Cadby but that Alex locked me in my chamber,” Jasmine chuckled with the remembrance. “Oh, I was angry with him. I threw a vase of flowers—roses I think—at him in my fury. Then Prince Henry came, and before I knew it I was won over by his charm. Your brother, Charlie, has that same Stuart charm,” Jasmine concluded with a smile.
“Did you love him, Mama?” Autumn asked.
“Yes, but I never told him. You see,
ma fille,
even though I was the daughter of a great monarch, my birth was deemed irregular by English standards, although it was certainly not in India. Henry was in love with me, but he would never be allowed to marry me. If I had admitted my love to him, he would have never married a proper princess, but in the end it didn’t matter. He died suddenly shortly after Charlie was born, and his little brother became England’s next king. A most unfortunate king. King Louis has been more forward than my prince was so long ago, but he is a king, Autumn. This position you find yourself in is not of your making, but it is up to you how you will solve the problem.”
“What would you do, Mama, if you were in my place?” Autumn asked her mother seriously. “Would you yield yourself to this man?”
“Yes,” Jasmine replied as seriously. “It is but a temporary situation, Autumn. The queen and the cardinal seek to marry Louis off and gain legitimate heirs for France as soon as possible. There are already two candidates for the king’s hand: the Spanish princess, Maria-Theresa, and the Savoyard princess, Marguerite. Any mistress the king may have when he marries will disappear from his life. No amour should embarrass his queen, whoever she is. My cousins also tell me that the cardinal’s niece, Marie Mancini, has also caught the king’s eye in Paris. This king will not enslave you, Autumn; but he will provide you with a momentary and delightful diversion. You have never known any man but Sebastian, may God assoil his good soul. You now have the opportunity to see what another man is like before you fall in love and remarry one day, which you will,
ma fille,
no matter what you may think now. You will love again,” her mother concluded.
“Mama, I am surprised at you,” Autumn said. “I should have never thought to hear such advice coming from your lips.”
Jasmine laughed heartily. “Why is it,” she said, “that all children believe their parents have had no life before their birth? I was forty-one when you were born, Autumn. I had lived a long and adventurous life even before you were a glint in my eye. Life, since your birth, I will admit, has been quiet, even staid, but these past years cannot take away from who I am, and I am who I am because of the life I lived before you were born. All you have ever known is that you were born at Maguire’s Ford in Ulster. Were you aware that you came early into life? That several hours before your birth I stood off a mob of angry men bent on murder and destruction?”
“You never told me this,” Autumn said, surprised by the revelation.
“It wasn’t necessary that you know,” her mother replied. “I tell you now because I want you to understaned that life is not always predictable, Autumn. It twists and turns like any road. Until now you have walked a fairly straight path,
ma fille.
King Louis is a steep curve that you must negotiate carefully, but you are my daughter, and I know you will do well.” Jasmine leaned forward and kissed Autumn’s cheek. “And when your time with Louis is over,
ma fille,
bow gracefully out while keeping the king’s friendship. That is the clever and wise thing to do.”
The young woman sighed. “I will tell Lily and Orane to pack for our visit to Chambord, Mama,” she said, resigned. “Madeline will be safe here at Chermont for these few days.”
“She will,” Jasmine agreed, knowing, but not saying aloud, that it was unlikely her daughter would return for less than several weeks if the king was pleased. This was something Autumn would come to face herself after she had been with Louis. Ah, the older woman thought, to be young again, and have a virile lover! Then she smiled. How Jemmie would laugh at her thoughts. But perhaps not. James Leslie’s notions of honor were strongly fixed. They had gotten him killed. Their daughter was very much like her father, but she must see that she became more flexible like herself, Jasmine considered. Especially if she was to survive in this man’s world.
Before they departed the following morning, they were visited by Madame de Belfort tend Madame St. Omer. Both Jasmine and Autumn were surprised to see the two ladies, but the forthright Madame St. Omer spoke up, dispelling their curiosity.
“We have heard that the king was here yesterday,
mes cousines.
What is it all about? Did he come to pay his condolences? How kind of him. Queen Anne and the cardinal raised a good man.”
Autumn began to laugh. “How do the servants do it?” she asked aloud. “I know there is no keeping secrets from them, but how did the news travel from Chermont to Archambault so quickly, and in time for you to arrive here so early in the morning,
tantes?”
Her query gave Madame St. Omer pause; but then, shaking her head, she said, “I have no idea,
ma petite.
All I can tell you is that last evening I learned of the king’s visit from my own maidservant. It is true, isn’t it?” Her eyes shifted to the trunks in the foyer. “Where are you going?” she demanded to know.
“The king has invited Autumn and me to join him at Chambord,” Jasmine replied.
“Mon Dieu!”
Madame de Belfort exclaimed, her blue eyes wide with surprise, and then sudden understanding.
“As long as Jasmine is there, there can be speculation, but no one can say for certain what is going on,” Madame St. Omer said thoughtfully. “You will, of course, deny any and everything,
ma petite,”
she advised her niece. “Will you return to Paris with him?”
“Why would I go to Paris?” Autumn asked.
“If you are to become the king’s mistress . . .” he aunt began.
“The king has offered me nothing more than a ‘sweet idyll.’ ” Autumn responded, “and I want nothing more than that, tantes. Moreover, I most certainly do not want to go to Paris. My home is here, and my place is with my daughter. There will be nothing more.”
“We shall see,” Madame St. Omer said. “The rumor is that he is a splendid lover,
ma petite.
I shall want a full report when you return from Chambord, eh?” she chuckled.
“Oh, sister, how can you be so indelicate?” Madame de Belfort twittered, her cheeks red with embarrassment over her elder’s frankness.
“Well, sister, don’t you want to know if the rumors are true?” Madame St. Omer said bluntly.
“If the king becomes my lover, Aunt, I can hardly fault his prowess, can I?” Autumn said with a small smile.
“Not publicly,” her aunt agreed, “but privately I shall expect to know
everything, ma petite!”
Autumn and her mother bid the aunts
adieu
and departed for the journey to Chambord, which would take them most of the day. Chambord, Autumn had been told, was the royal hunting lodge, and while Louis used it each fall, it had been given by his father Louis XIII to the current Louis’s uncle, Gaston d’Orleans, who would not be in residence now. The king, while polite to his uncle, would never forget how that relation had made his childhood difficult and schemed to overthrow his mother’s authority, and especially how he had managed to have Cardinal Mazarin exiled for a time, endangering them all.
Late in the afternoon, the marquise’s carriage approached the chateau. Autumn and her mother could only gape with amazement at the sight before their eyes, for the king’s hunting lodge of Chambord was the largest and most lavish chateau in the whole of the Loire Valley. The building and its great forest were girded by over twenty miles of perimeter walls. The great roof of the chateau, which seemed to stretch forever, was filled from one end to the other with turrets and dormers, windows and spires, lanterns, balconies, and chimneys.
“It is almost oriental in appearance,” Jasmine noted. “I am reminded of the palaces of my youth.”
“It is too big,” Autumn pronounced. “We shall never find our way about it. I thought Chenonceaux was large, but this chateau is huge. I am already sorry that I agreed to come.”
“There was no choice,” her mother reminded her.
Autumn just stared ahead at the great white stone building with its blue slate roof. There were four towers at each edge of the chateau, and at its midsection she could see more towers rising. She sighed and shook her head. To go to court as an observer was one thing, but to be part and parcel of such an elite grouping was another. And who would be there? There were no women, the king had told her. What would that make her appear to be? Her reputation was going to be in tatters by the time all of this was over and done with, despite her mother’s presence. And what if Louis did want her to go to Paris? She would not go. She simply would not go!
The moat surrounding Chambord had been diverted from a nearby stream. The carriage crossed over it and rumbled onward, finally stopping at the main entrance of the chateau. Immediately liveried servants came running to open the coach’s door, lower the steps, and help the two women out. A more senior member of their number stepped forward and bowed very politely to them.
“Madame la marquise, madame la duchesse, the king bids you welcome to Chambord. If you will follow me, I will escort you to your apartments. His majesty is still out hunting but should return quite soon.” He bowed again and, turning, walked quickly back into the chateau.
They followed even as Lily, Orane, and Rohana scrambled from the carriage, following their mistresses, as behind them the footmen unloaded the luggage from the coach and then led the vehicle away to the stables.
Autumn tried hard not to goggle at the magnificence of her surroundings, but it wasn’t easy. The upper servant led them through the foyer and up a flight of wide marble stairs into the central keep of the building and down a corridor. Before them was an incredible staircase with twin helical flights that made it impossible for those ascending to see those descending.
“Mon Dieu!”
the half-whispered words escaped her before she could restrain them.
“It is amazing, isn’t it?” the servant said quietly. “All who first come to Chambord are astounded by it. Ah, here we are.”
He turned and gave them a small smile. “You will both be staying in the king’s apartments. You, madame la marquis, here.” He flung open a door. “And you, madame la duchesse, but a little ways down the corridor, here. The trunks will be brought up, and your serving women may share the cabinet next to your chambers, mesdames. You will find chateau serving women at your command, and a footman will come to escort you to the evening meal. I shall tell the king when he returns of your arrival.” He bowed again most politely.
“I will want a bath,” Autumn suddenly found her voice.
“I will see to it, madame la marquise,” he told her and then, turning, he was swiftly gone.
“I have not seen such grandeur since my father’s palaces,” Jasmine said. “It is all quite overwhelming, but exquisite.”
“It is too much,” Autumn said to her mother.
“Ah, my little Scots daughter, who thought nothing was finer than Glenkirk and Queen’s Malvern,” Jasmine teased. “These French kings have a great flair for style. I think it comes from the Italian blood in them.”
“Where do you think the king’s bedchamber is?” Autumn wondered.
“Quite near to yours, I suspect,” her mother said. “He will certainly want to come and go without being observed by anyone,
ma fille.”
“Oh, Mama, I am afraid,” Autumn admitted suddenly.

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