The Italian Woman Part 24

Margot embraced her warmly, and the woman knew what that meant.

'Keep my doors locked to-night,' whispered Margot.

'My dearest lady Princess, be careful.'

'Have no fears for me.'

'It is dangerous, my lady.'

Margot laughed; she loved danger if it meant love-making with Henry of Guise.

'Ah, my Princess, I can understand. There is no one like him in the whole of France.'

'There is no one like him in the whole world,' corrected Margot.

She conducted herself with decorum at the ceremony of meeting her suitor, who was deeply impressed with the wild beauty of the Princess. It was true, he concluded, that she was the most fascinating lady at the court of France.

Henry of Guise was there, watching. Margot wondered if he suffered similar pangs to those she felt when he bent his handsome head towards that of Catherine of Cleves.

Catherine watched too. The girl was defiant, but she knew she must obey. During her chastis.e.m.e.nt she had cringed in a manner which had been quite gratifying. Margot was wild; she was pa.s.sionate, more desirous and perhaps therefore more desirable than a woman should be; but Catherine believed she knew how to manage Margot's affairs with satisfaction.

For Margot the evening seemed endless; the bright lights were too dazzling. She was charming to the King of Portugal and his attendants. She gave the impression that the match would not be distasteful to her; but all the time she was scarcely aware of her suitor; she was only aware of Henry, now talking to the Princess of Cleves, now dancing with her, while the latter the little fool that she was! looked as though all she desired on Earth was the smile of the young Duke of Guise.

Margot fretted and waited; and during those long hours of ceremony she yearned for her lover.

At last it was over, and the palace was quiet.

Margot was ready, waiting in her robes of state, for the moment when she should slip out and along to that little chamber where Henry would be waiting for her. Her women ran about eagerly, touching her dress here and there, putting a fold of her gown in place, telling her she was more beautiful tonight than she had ever been; they looked into the corridor to make sure that no one was lurking there; and then Margot was speeding through corridors, up stairs to her meeting with her lover.

She clung to him while they murmured words of love. He told of his jealousy, she of hers. She lit the candles that he might see her in all her finery.

'You were more beautiful than ever to-night,' he said.

'It was because I was coming here to you. If I had not been coming to you, I should have been ugly ... hating them all. Oh, Henry, shall I ever cease to love you like this?'

'Never,' he said, 'I hope.'

He had made a bed of his velvet cloak; she saw it and laughed. 'We have known so many strange beds. When shall we know our marriage bed?'

'Soon, Margot, soon. But we must be doubly cautious now that this man from Portugal is here.'

The candles guttered out, and they lay in the darkness. The night pa.s.sed and, when the first signs of the new day were in the sky, Margot regretted its pa.s.sing.

'The most wonderful night of my life!' she sighed. 'I shall remember it always.'

'There will be many such when we are married. Then we shall have no fear of discovery.'

She was laughing, demanding more kisses. Neither of them heard the door open, so engrossed were they in each other; nor did they see the figure standing there watching them. The door was quietly closed again, and not long after there was a great commotion in the corridor which even they could not fail to hear.

'Keep very still,' said Henry. 'Make no sound.'

He had risen silently, but before he had his coat on and his sword at his side, the door burst open. The King stood there; his clothes had been hastily thrown on; his eyes were bloodshot and his mouth working. Behind him stood several of the attendants of his bedchamber.

He screamed an order. 'Take them to my mother's apartments. With all speed. No delay.'

The lovers were surrounded. Four men were needed to overcome the struggles of Guise. Two seized Margot; and the pair were then hustled along the corridors to the apartments of the Queen Mother.

Catherine, startled out of her sleep, stared at the intruders, but it did not take her long, when she saw who the captives were, to realise what had happened. Charles, the little fool, had once more acted without his mother; by this impetuous act he had exposed the liaison between his sister and the Duke of Guise to the whole court. And Sebastian, the King of Portugal, was in the Palace of the Louvre at this very hour!

Catherine did not know whom she hated more at this moment her stupid son Charles or her wanton daughter, Margot.

Angry as she was, she did not lose her self-control.

'Monsieur de Guise,' she said, 'your presence is not needed here.'

Henry bowed and left the room. It was the only thing he could do. He flashed a warning glance at Margot, begging her to be calm and diplomatic.

Catherine glanced at all those a.s.sembled, and her look said clearly that it would be the worse for them all if they mentioned to any what they had seen this morning. 'All may leave with Monsieur de Guise,' she said. 'His Majesty and I wish to be alone with the Princess.'

When the room was empty but for the three of them, Catherine went to the door and locked it. She signed to Charles to attack his sister, and he, nothing loth, took his stick and approached the terrified girl. Margot ran to her mother, who flung her back to the King. Charles was biting his lips so that blood mingled with the foam there.

'We must try to beat some sense into this little fool,' said Catherine. 'On the very night when she meets her suitor, she keeps an a.s.signation with her lover. Beat her. Let her learn what it costs to bring disgrace on us all.'

Catherine now unleashed her fury. Margot's rich gown was torn in shreds and, bleeding and exhausted, she begged them to spare her. But she was not to be spared.

Margot had suffered many beatings in her lifetime, but nothing so severe as this. At length she sank unconscious to the floor. Charles kicked her as she lay there; the sight of blood always inflamed him, and a mood of frenzy had come upon him.

Catherine, looking on, considered the possibility of Margot's death. It would not be the first time that a disobedient child had been beaten to death, but Margot's death would be most inconvenient. Catherine's rage had pa.s.sed. Moreover, the room was light, for the day had now come.

'Enough!' she cried to Charles.

But it was not easy to stop Charles. He wanted to see blood flow. It was always thus when his madness was on him. He wanted to have Henry of Guise's head off.

'Kill him! Kill him!' he screamed. 'Torture him ... And Margot shall see it all. Let her be there. Let her watch him, naked and sweating under the torture, and see then if she recognises her handsome lover.'

'Silence!' commanded Catherine.

The King's face was distorted as he stared wildly at his mother; his lips were twitching; his glaring eyes were bloodshot; moisture trickled from his mouth. He was prancing about the unconscious body of his sister. He wanted to kick her to death, yet when he recovered his sanity he would be filled with remorse if he had hurt her.

'My dear son,' said Catherine, putting an arm about his twitching form, 'have a care. You know these Guises. What if they turned the tables on you? What if you were naked ... sweating, eh? Remember who is the man you wish to torture. Remember Le Balafre. Remember the Cardinal. Have a care, my son.'

'He must die! He must die!' panted Charles.

'He shall die,' soothed Catherine. 'But my way ... Mother's way ... not yours. Lie on the couch, my darling, and rest. Leave this to your mother. She knows best. She does not want them to take her darling boy ... her dear little King, and torture him.'

'They could not. They could not. I am the King.'

'You are the King, and a wise King, because you will do what I say. Rest now, my son, and leave this to me. Am I not always right? I will see that the arrogance of Monsieur de Guise is subdued. I will see that there is no more love-making with your sister.'

Catherine led him to a couch and soothed him; she stroked back his hair and wiped his mouth with her kerchief. He lay back, his eyes closed.

Catherine then unlocked her door and called to her attendants.

'The Princess has fainted. Bring water. We must bathe her. She has had a fall. Hurry ... I command you.'

They brought the water, and she herself bathed Margot's bruised body, adjusted her dress and helped the girl back to her apartments.

She announced: 'The Princess will rest for a few days. See that she keeps to her apartments. I will make her excuses.'

Then Catherine went back to her bed. She appeared to be sleeping when the ceremony of the lever was about to begin, and when aroused she wore her usual calm expression.

Catherine spent much time, during the days that followed, with those creatures of hers the Ruggieri brothers and Rene, the perfumer, who made such beautiful gloves and sold such exquisite jewels in his little shop on the quay opposite the Louvre.

She had made sure that she was alone in her apartment before unlocking her secret cupboard; she had dressed herself in the garments of a market-woman so that no one would recognise the majestic Queen Mother in the portly woman with the basket on her arm and the shawl which covered her head and half her face.

She left by the secret pa.s.sage, which she realised must be known to a few besides herself, since it had been in existence long before she had come to France. But she used it frequently, and it provided her with a certain amount of secrecy. She certainly could not leave by the main gates of the palace, dressed in these garments.

As she made her way to the house of the Ruggieri, so conveniently near the river that it was possible to leave by a back entrance and take the boat which was moored there, she could not resist mingling with the market crowds, exchanging a word here and there, trying to get them to speak of the royal house.

'Wars ... wars ... wars ...' said one woman. 'Why should our country be bathed in blood?'

'For the good of the Faith,' said the stout woman in the shawl.

'For the good of the Faith! For the good of great n.o.bles who would s.n.a.t.c.h power from one another.'

'Oh ... we shall have a grand marriage soon in Paris,' said Catherine.

'The Portuguese gentleman will be getting a handful, so they say.'

Catherine laughed coa.r.s.ely and came closer to the woman, 'There are rumours about the little Princess, I believe.'

'Have you not heard? She is madly in love with the Duke of Guise the good G.o.d bless him! and she has been his mistress for many years ... since they were in their cradles almost. They say that our Margot is mad for him ... that she is such another as our great King Francis, her grandfather. There was a man! He couldn't look at a woman without wanting to take her to his bed. They say Margot is such another.'

'Then it is well, is it not, that she should be married quickly?'

'Well for her ... or for him?'

Catherine pa.s.sed on. So the rumours concerning Margot had already travelled beyond the palace walls!

The Ruggieri received her with the pleasure which they always expressed when she came to visit them. They took her at once into their secret apartment.

'What I need,' she said, 'is a present for a gentleman. It is a gentleman of the highest rank fastidious in his tastes. It must be very charming, and most cleverly devised for such a man.'

The brothers looked uneasily at one another, as they always did when asked to help despatch the important enemies of Catherine. They were very happy to a.s.sist in the removal of the insignificant who happened to be in their mistress's way, but they were terrified of supplying their wares for use against the great.

'If,' said Catherine, 'it will help you not to know the name of the gentleman, I will not tell it.'

But they knew. Any rumour that had left the palace walls would be sure to find its way into the Ruggieri stronghold; and every market-woman and fishwife, it seemed, was gossiping over the love affair of the Princess Margot and the Duke of Guise.

The Ruggieri brothers were not eager to a.s.sist in the removal of a man of such high rank.

Still, their fear would make them subtler; and subtlety was what was needed in such an affair.

'I will give you twenty-four hours in which to think of something. It must be something which will not arouse suspicions. Not a book ... not gloves. It must be something which has never been tried before. But it must have speedy results.'

Catherine left the brothers trembling at her command. They knew they had been asked to help in the removal of the head of the most powerful family in the country. How could they escape implication? They could not shut out of their minds the sly, clever face of the Cardinal of Lorraine, the power of his family. And the Queen Mother was asking them to help her remove the handsome young Duke of Guise!

Catherine left them and came out into the streets.

She did not notice that one of the women who had been in that group with whom she had paused to chat kept a little way behind her as she made her way to Rene's shop before going back to the Louvre. For the time she had forgotten that the spy system of the House of Guise and Lorraine was as efficient as her own.

She made her way to the secret pa.s.sage, where she changed her garments. She came through to her own apartments, unlocked her doors and went along to see her daughter.

Margot was in bed. Fortunately, her face had suffered little damage, but the girl could not move for the cuts and bruises on her body. She lay, pale and wan very unlike her usual vivacious self. She shrank under the bedclothes at the sight of her mother.

Catherine laid a hand on her brow.

'Ah, my daughter, you are a little better, I think. Let me see how you hurt yourself when you fell in my apartments.' She drew back the bedclothes and pulled up Margot's nightgown. 'Poor child! A pity to spoil your beauty, for you are very lovely, daughter. Is she not?' Catherine turned to the attendants who stood by, and looked from them to Margot, cowering in the bed.

'There is no lady at court more beautiful than the Princess,' they agreed.

'I will send my own special unguents for these wounds. I do not think there is any serious damage done. She will be healed in a week or so.'

Catherine pulled up the bedclothes and tucked them in with the solicitude of a fond mother.

Then she went back to be dressed for the ball which was to take place that night.

Her thoughts were busy while her women dressed her hair and arranged her jewels. She must keep a sharp eye on Charles. He was impetuous. He might easily expose the fact that there was a plot afoot to remove the Duke of Guise. Her beloved Henry, fortunately, had good sense, and he would show the right sort of friendship to Henry of Guise just enough to allay his fears, and not so much that it would confirm his suspicions. But she could expect no such cleverness from her little madman, Charles.

She went to the King's apartment and, dismissing all his attendants, spoke warningly to him.

'I beg of you, when you see Guise to-night, do nothing rash.'

'No, Mother. But I hate him. He is trying to take my throne. I am sure there will never be peace in this realm while the Guises are so powerful.'

'That is true; but we must take every care. Promise me that you will not shout at him when you see him. For the love of the Virgin, do not let him see that you are thirsting for his blood.'

'Nay, my mother. I am not such a fool as you think.'

'Of course you are not. You are my clever little King.'

'All the same,' said Charles, 'I shall not rest until he has been punished for what he has done to Margot.'

'Rather let him be punished for what he may do to you and your brother, my darling.'

But what was the good of talking to Charles! He was hopeless. He was mad.

And in the magnificent ballroom, when Henry of Guise was announced, Catherine watched with dismay the angry colour flood the face of the King. Before she could prevent him, he was at the door, barring the way of the Duke.