The Red Rose of Anjou (7 page)

Theophanie was right because when Margaret went to her grandmother’s room she found her stretched out on her bed, her eyes closed and a look of utter weariness on her face. She was not pleased with Margaret and made that clear. It was not, as she said, because it was unseemly of her to do a servant’s work, it was because she hated her granddaughter to see her exhaustion.

It was true that Yolande was feeling her age. She could tell herself that she had become too excited, had thrown herself too energetically into the task of entertaining the royal party, but a few years ago these activities would have provided nothing but stimulation.

Sixty! It was a great age. And Yolande had till now unconsciously believed herself to be immortal.

How much longer was left? There were things she would like to see before she died. René settled. Well, she had given up hoping for that. She knew René. He was greatly loved but he was somehow ineffectual. She often wondered how she could have given birth to such a son. No, she was a realist. She must not hope for the impossible. What she wanted more than anything was to see France free and she wanted Charles to bring about that happy state. Some strange instinct within her had always known that he could do it. There had been a time when that would have seemed absurd to some, but it never had to her. She had been drawn to the King when as Dauphin he had married her daughter. He had felt similarly attracted to her. It was a strange relationship having in it none of the elements which the King usually felt towards women. It was an abiding friendship, a rare devotion. If she had been younger perhaps she should have been his wife. No, it was better so. She had watched his progress from afar and she had rejoiced, and she felt that she had had some small part in the surprising advance which he had made.

She was determined to have a private talk with Agnès Sorel because she felt that she could learn a great deal from her, but first she wished to speak to her daughter.

It was not like Yolande to feel uneasy about her actions. She was almost always certain that she was right and that she had been in this case was proved. The change in Charles had been little short of miraculous and Yolande had a shrewd idea of how it had been brought about.

She was on the point of sending for her daughter when she remembered that even she did not send for the Queen of France. Instead she requested her daughter to come to her.

Marie came at once. Like her husband she had the greatest respect for Yolande.

‘Dear child, I will forget you are the Queen for a time and remember only that you are my daughter,’ said Yolande. ‘It is so rarely that I have a chance to be with you alone. Tell me, Marie, how are the children?’

‘In good health, thank you. Mother.’

‘And Louis?’

The Queen lifted her shoulders. ‘Louis will always go his own way.’

‘Something of a trial to his father,’ said Yolande.

‘Poor Charles, he has troubles enough without a rebellious Dauphin.’

‘It is a pity,’ agreed Marie; but Yolande had not brought Marie here to speak of the Dauphin’s behaviour. She went on: ‘Charles has become a different man. That gives me great pleasure.’

‘Oh yes. France is emerging victorious all over the country. We shall soon have driven the English out.’

Yolande nodded. ‘And how do you feel about...Agnès Sorel.’

Again that lift of the shoulders. ‘Charles has always had mistresses,’ said the Queen.

‘Agnès is perhaps...different.’

‘Oh yes,’ said the Queen, ‘quite different. In fact one might say the King no longer has mistresses. He has a mistress.’

‘Agnès is a good girl, Marie, do you agree?’

‘I do.’

‘And you, Marie...you are her friend.’

Marie smiled. ‘I know what you are thinking, my lady mother. You decided that Agnès should be at Court when you saw he was taken by her. And you are wondering what I his wife think of my mother who should introduce him to such a mistress. Do not forget, my dear mother, that it was you who brought me up. Life was wretched before. You know how we lived when his father gave Katherine to the King of England and promised that King his throne on his death. Charles was cast out. Even after his father’s death he was just the Dauphin when he was in truth the King. We had no money...nothing. I had to sell jewels to provide us with food. And he did not care...He went whichever way he was guided. It was humiliating. And then the Maid came. We both believed in her, did we not, and we made him believe and he did. She saved Orléans and had him crowned at Rheims and even after that he was still listless. He has never really forgiven himself for letting her be burned as a witch.’

‘Poor, poor Charles, he needs looking after.’

‘He has someone to look after him. He has his queen...his mother-in-law...and most of all his mistress.’

‘Ah, I knew Agnès would be good for him.’

‘He loves her, my lady. I never thought he could rouse himself from his lethargy to love. But he loves Agnès. She is a good woman. I think he had to persuade her rather forcibly to share his bed and bear his children. She loves him too. In spite of his looks there is something lovable about Charles.’

Yolande agreed with that. She loved him herself. She said ‘Then it was right not to take Agnès away.’

‘Agnès has done more for him than anyone. He roused himself to gain her good opinion. She changed him and in doing that changed France. Dear Mother, ease your conscience. I am his wife but I rejoice in Agnès.’

Yolande’s conscience was now clear on that point. She sent for Agnès.

Agnès came and stood before her. How beautiful she is! thought Yolande. Even more so than when she was a maiden in Isabelle’s household. She has gained with maturity.

Agnès guessed that Yolande wished to speak to her about her relationship with the King and since Yolande was the mother of his wife, she expected some reproaches.

Yolande bade her sit.

‘You have changed since I last saw you, Agnès,’ she said, ‘but you are more beautiful than ever. And happy, I trust.’

‘Yes, my lady, I am happy as any can be in these troublous times.’

‘Growing less troublesome though since the King roused himself and decided to be a King.’

Agnès did not answer; she lowered her head but Yolande caught the smile of satisfaction.

‘Agnès, I hear Charles has built a Château for you in the forest near Loches. The Château de la Guerche I believe.’

‘That is so, my lady. The King has been very kind to me.’

‘I believe you have been very kind to him.’

The delicate colour in Agnès’s cheeks deepened slightly.

‘My lady, I did not wish to find myself in this position.’

‘I know, I know. He fell in love with you and you wished to escape from him. You had no ambition to be a King’s mistress. I believe that, Agnès, so would all who knew you. But you were at his Court and he would not let you go. You were not a young girl who would fall in love for love’s sake. Charles was hardly the sort, to inspire that, was he? You resisted him and you told him that he was indolent, that he was destroying his country, that you could not admire a King who behaved as he did. Is that so, Agnès?’

‘Perhaps I implied that. A maid of honour to the Queen could scarcely be so bold to the King.’

‘But you were bold, Agnès, because you had this effect on him. He changed his ways to please you. He sought you out. He talked to you. And you were always a clever girl. Rarely is one so blessed with beauty and wisdom and when God bestows these He expects them to be used. I brought you here, Agnès, to tell you that I and the Queen are thankful to you. We believe that you have done as much for France as the Maid did. She showed him the way to victory but you led him there. I want you to know, Agnès, that both I and the Queen are grateful to you...as the whole of France should be. You love him now.’

‘It would be impossible not to. I am so often with him. We talk of the affairs of France.’

‘He listens to you.’

‘I am no general, my lady. I am no statesman. But I do know that the King must bestir himself He must rule. My lady, he does rule now.’

‘Yes, he does indeed. And see what results it is having. The English lost Henry and then the Duke of Bedford. That was good for France, particularly as we regained our King. I wanted you to know, Agnès, that we are with you...the Queen and I. France will be with you...if not now one day. It surprises me that France must be grateful to two women, Joan the Maid and Agnès Sorel.’

‘Others too, my lady. Yourself The King sets great store by your opinion. And there is the Queen, too.’

‘And your little girls are well? There are three of them are there not?’

‘Yes. The King loves them dearly.’

‘May God preserve you, Agnès...you and the King and your family.’

When Agnès had left her Yolande went to her bedchamber to rest. Again that humiliating tiredness had come over her, but she felt relieved and happy.

She had done right in bringing Agnès to Court.

Margaret, too, was able to be with Agnès for a short time. Although Agnès had grown into a woman and was clearly quite an important one, Margaret felt able to talk to her as she was with few others.

She wanted to hear what Agnès had done when she joined the French Court and what it was like to be a lady in waiting to the Queen.

Agnès told her. She spoke to Margaret of her own little girls. ‘Charlotte is growing up now,’ she said, ‘and Agnès is not far behind. Then there is the baby.’

‘Your children, Agnès? I did not know you had a husband.’

Agnès hesitated. Margaret was eleven years old. She might well hear gossip. It would be better for her to hear the truth from Agnès than from others.

‘They are the King’s,’ Agnès explained.

‘But I thought you had to have a husband to have children.’

‘You should,’ Agnès explained, ‘but sometimes it does not happen so. People understand.’

‘I suppose,’ said Margaret with a certain wisdom, ‘it is all right because it is the King.’

‘Yes, I think that might explain it,’ answered Agnès.

‘Agnès, shall you always stay at Court?’

‘I hope to.’

‘The King loves you very much, does he not?’

‘Who told you that?’

‘I saw it in his eyes when he looked at you.’

Agnès was pleased. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘the King loves me and I love the King and that makes everything right.’

‘I was very little when you went away. But I do remember you. I suppose it is because you are so beautiful. I feel I can talk to you...as I can’t talk to anyone else. One cannot talk to Theophanie about some things and no one could ever talk to my grandmother. I could to my father but he is not here.’

‘Of what things, Margaret?’

‘Oh...I am a little frightened sometimes. You see my sister Yolande went away to the Vaudémonts when she was a very little girl and now my brother John is going to marry Marie de Bourbon. One day they will find someone for me to marry and I shall be sent away.’

‘And that frightens you?’

‘It makes me wonder what will become of me.’

‘Dear Margaret, we none of us know what will become of us. That is in God’s hands.’

‘Yes, but we can wriggle out of them if we don’t like what He plans for us...sometimes.’

‘Whatever gave you that notion?’

‘Well, they say that the King who was weak and dissolute has now become kingly and rules his country well. If God meant him to be a great King why did He make him a foolish one for so long? I heard my aunt Marie tell my grandmother that you and the Maid had led him out of his despondency and awakened the desire in him to be a King.’

‘Well, perhaps that was God’s will.’

‘It seems to me,’ said Margaret, ‘that anything can be said to be His will. But it was the Maid and you who actually did it, wasn’t it? I think you make up your mind what you wish to do and do it, and if it turns out to be wrong say, "That was God’s will", and if it is right you did it yourself."

Agnès laughed. ‘You have a clever way of reasoning, Margaret. It is unusual in one so young. Where did you learn that?’

‘From my grandmother. I intend to be exactly like her when I grow up for if I am it will not matter to whom they marry me. I shall be the one to say what has to be done.’

###

The royal visit was over and in due course Margaret and her grandmother went back to Saumur. After all the revelry the castle at Angers needed a thorough sweetening.

Margaret noticed how the journey—although it was less than thirty miles -tired her grandmother. When they arrived at Saumur she stayed in her bed for two days which was something she had never done before.

When she arose she was as energetic as ever and life settled down to the normal routine.

Two years passed. There was no good news from Naples. In fact there was rarely any news at all. Yolande had come to believe that René would never succeed. There were no longer the scares that the English might come and attempt to take the castle. The English were being turned out of France and a peace party under Cardinal Beaufort was formed in England.

‘What they will try to do is to marry the young King to one of Charles’s daughters.’

‘That would be a good way to finish the war,’ said Margaret.

‘I doubt not that is what it will come to. A French Princess for Henry. Yes, these alliances are always a good way of settling differences. I hear that he is a good young man, religious, eager to do what is best. Of course, his kind always seem to lack strength. What he needs is a strong wife, a woman to lead him and the country.’

Margaret smiled. Yolande had always believed firmly in the power of women. She had taught Margaret to believe the same.

‘We shall have to find a suitable match for you, Margaret,’ said Yolande. ‘But for your father’s exploits in Naples it would have been done long ago.’

‘I am content to wait awhile.’

‘It cannot be much longer. You are thirteen, are you not?’

‘Yes, my lady.’

‘Then it is time.’

A little while before such talk would have made Margaret uneasy. Now she was not so sure. She knew what influence Agnès Sorel had with the King; he was in some measure guided by the women about him. She knew what a power her grandmother was and so was her mother. If success came in Naples it would be due to her rather than to René.