Threads of Silk (47 page)

She took hold of his arm, feeling the iron muscle beneath her fingers, too dazed at the thought of his proposal of escape to speak. If they escaped the Louvre late at night by way of the Queen Mother’s secret passage, they could ride from Paris before the dawning of a new day. They could be long gone from the Queen Mother before she ever missed Rachelle.

“But how will you get in and find my chamber?”

“Leave that to me. Henry of Navarre is a Huguenot and on our side.

If events fall into place, you will hear me tap on your chamber door well after everyone is asleep.”

She was excited and afraid all at once. So many things could go wrong.

He scowled. “It is the horses that worry me. Riding is not safe in your condition.”

“Mère rode a horse out of necessity, early in her pregnancy, and there was no harm done. We must go through with this and trust God.”

“We will trust in God, chérie, and we will also use the wisdom He has given us. I will have a coach waiting somewhere on the road out of Paris. In fact, the idea of the coach may work even better than my first plan of traveling through the woods.” He stood, hands on hips, staring at the fire as though the flames contained all the answers.

“What do you mean? Why would it be better not to go by way of the woods?”

He turned. She watched him tapping his chin.

“Do you remember when we met at Amboise at the masque the Queen Mother gave for Margo and the King of Portugal?”

“Yes, Marguerite slipped away and forced me to attend her . . . She met her amour, Henry de Guise. We all wore masks.”

“Yes, and a disguise may work again this time once we make it to the coach and turn our horses over to Gallaudet.”

She thought she followed his ideas and her mind raced ahead. “The red wig that Princesse Marguerite wears at times — ” She looked up at him. “I could borrow it — though I do not know how I could return it.”

“Never mind that, she can have more made freely enough. Besides, she has always been an amie. I do not think she would mind helping me at this time. Bring another wig for me, one of her black ones. Do you know where to locate them?”

“Yes, a closet in her chambers is filled with such things. I think I can manage.”

“If by fortuitous circumstance our departure is observed once we leave the courtyard, and the chase is on, I will have my men cut away from the road into the woods, as I first intended we all should. The guards — with any fair windfall blowing our way — will pursue my men on horseback into the woods . . .”

“While we proceed on the road by way of the coach unsuspected,”she said, standing.

“Exactement. With two occupants inside, one with red hair, the other with black. No one will suspect who rides in the coach making its way leisurely along the road. We will then make our way south toward La Rochelle and eventually rejoin my men — as I say, ma chérie,
if
bonne events blow our way.”

“Oh, Fabien, they
will
, they
must
.”

He went on to tell her of the plans he had already been devising with Gallaudet, Cousin Bertrand, and Julot Cazalet, to meet up with his replenished men-at-arms and Capitaine Nappier, who were even now somewhere in the Laye Forest.

“Our plan is to make our way to the Huguenot stronghold of La Rochelle. Capitaine Nappier will be somewhere near the coast with the
Reprisal
. Once at La Rochelle we will remain out of sight until the ship is sighted.”

Then a longboat would be sent out late at night to alert Capitaine Nappier of their arrival. When the ship was anchored as close in as possible, she and Fabien and his men would row out to board the dark vessel on a moonless night.

“The plan does not make for an easy escape; even so, it is our best hope,” he said when she slowly sat down on the blue-and-gold chair.

“The other plan — my first — was to reach Lyon and then cross the border and enter Geneva by land. If that plan is used, that route will also be challenging, since we will need to wait until late October when the colloquy ends.”

“Why October?”

“In order to smuggle you out of Poissy in one of the wagons of the Huguenots returning to Geneva. I would join you later on the road. But October is too far away. Events are moving too rapidly and too dangerously to wait.”

“What of my prized sewing possessions, the equipage of Grandmère?”she asked quickly.

For a moment he simply looked at her, then he smiled. She stood quickly and went to him, taking his hands. “I am serious. Fabien, I cannot even fathom the idea of leaving my sewing tools behind.”

“Ma chérie, that is perfectly understandable. I cannot promise you the large trunk, not now, but pack the most precious items in your smaller case and have it ready. I will see that Gallaudet has it before we leave for Paris. The large trunk and the rest of the equipage can be taken to the duchesse. Messire Arnaut and Madame Clair will be staying with her throughout the colloquy.”

Relief swept over her heart. Yes, of course, Mère would take her trunk home to the Château de Silk. Once she was in London they would have it shipped to her.

He held her as though what he was about to tell her would disappoint.

“What is it, Fabien?”

“Nenette. We will need to think of some reason to send her over to Madame Claire at Duchesse Dushane’s château. Your grisette cannot come with you on the escape, Rachelle.”

She had learned that whenever he used her name in discussion, the matter, from his viewpoint, was settled.

“Oh, but Fabien! My petite Nenette? I cannot leave her. I promised her she will come with me to London.”

“And she will. We will send for her after we are in London. Snatching you out of Paris will be most difficult. Trying to get both of you away at the same time will lessen the chances.”

“But — ”

“Nenette will be in the way. She will be safer if she remains here at Saint-Germain with Madame Clair.”

She sighed, for she understood that he was undoubtedly right, and the added burden placed upon him and Gallaudet might put the plan in jeopardy at the last minute. After all, it was not as if Nenette was in any immediate danger the way Andelot had been when Fabien counseled him to ride on to La Rochelle from the bungalow.

“Very well, I will not protest further. I rather agree she will be safer with Mère. I will need to console and convince her we will indeed send for her later when it is safe.”

“Do not tell her here. She may cry and carry on. In fact, let me explain after I take her to Madame Clair.”

“Then I will at least write her a lettre.”

“I will give the lettre to Madame Clair. She can hand it to Nenette after you are safely out of Paris. I trust no one. The tongue slips so easily.”

Rachelle was not worried about Nenette. She would be as well taken care of by the Macquinet family at the Château de Silk as she had been in the past. Père Arnaut had just recently made the decision to remain in France for the foreseeable future. Two evenings ago at the family dinner, he announced that the London experiment to establish an extension of the silk plantation was a task doomed to failure because of the weather. Silkworms must have a warmer climate. He had concluded by saying, “Fabien is telling me that Admiral Coligny has not given up his idea of another colony in Florida. There are other possibilities in the Americas, as well. Even the Caribbean. We shall see what the future holds for unlocking new doors. If the opportunity is not suitable for our generation, then it will be left to our grandchildren’s generation.”

“Perhaps Nenette can return to London with Bertrand,” Rachelle said. “He told me last night that he is leaving with the Huguenots for Geneva after the colloquy. Even so, he plans to return to Spitalfields eventually, stopping first to visit Pere Arnaut at the Château de Silk. Nenette could be brought to me then.”

“We will find a way. I do not want you worrying, chérie. The hours and days ahead will be difficult enough for you.”

And for him. He carried her and so much more on his shoulders and in his heart.

Rachelle was content to put aside the concerns for the moment as they stood in one another’s arms before the glowing embers, the sound of the autumn wind stirring about the battlements of the gray stone castle. In just a few days she would go to Paris to be with Marguerite. And then? Ah, then! The
Reprisal
, and London. A life all their own to pursue the way the Lord planned for them and for their child that she carried. A daughter as he said? A son? She wondered with anticipation. Their child would grow up with Idelette’s bébé boy and Madeleine’s daughter Joan. They would form a new generation for which the plans of Providence would make a way.

And who knew what those plans would be, or how different each of their children would be? Cousins . . . And always, because Fabien was a royal Bourbon and a marquis, their own offspring would rank above Madeleine’s and Idelette’s children. But in the eyes of God, there was no respecter of persons.

As she dreamed of what their children would be like and what lay ahead, she waited with anticipation and faith.

We have come too far to lose it all now, to have happiness and purpose
slip through our fingers like wind.

Au Revoir and Godspeed

IN PARIS AT THE LOUVRE, THE DEEP NIGHT WAITED EXPECTANTLY.
RACHELLE’S
nerves were on edge and her heart seemed to beat unevenly as she waited for Fabien’s stealthy footsteps outside the chamber door. This was the night when he would come, when they would escape from beneath the watchful eyes of Madame Serpent.

She had arrived the day before under Fabien’s escort, though he had to leave her at the palais and take a separate residence as the Queen Mother had said. Could she be wary that Fabien might attempt to leave with her? Rachelle believed the Queen Mother continued to watch her.

Earlier, when he left her in the chamber, he said he would stay with his Bourbon kinsmen at the Hotel de Condé, which was near the Louvre.

If the Queen Mother did not think Fabien could rid her of Duc de Guise,
I think she would poison me while I am here. As long as she needs him, I
should be safe.

The family is praying ceaselessly for us, she thought, comforted. Père Arnaut and Madame Clair had sent her a message before she left SaintGermain-en-Laye, saying they would be up all night in vigil, and Cousin Bertrand had given her a portion from his favorite psalm, which said:

“If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the
sea, even there shall thy hand lead me.”
Then he had taken Nenette to the Dushane château to wait through for the remainder of the colloquy.

Rachelle worried again over Duchesse Dushane. Her frailty grew worse day by day, and Docteur d’Fontaine, whom Fabien had brought to see the duchess, could not discover what was ailing her. Rachelle was saddened, for she had wanted so much to see her before departing for London, and now that was not possible. She would fondly remember the older woman who had risked herself to help them and Andelot during the past two years. She had written a lettre to the duchesse and entrusted it to Nenette before she had departed, in which Rachelle had expressed her gratitude.

Nenette had suspected Rachelle might not come back from Paris, but surprisingly she had showed courage and managed to kiss her cheek.

“Do not forget me,” she had whispered.

“Never, ma petite. Fabien will send for you.”

Nenette smiled, her lips quivering, but she hid her emotions as she left the castle with Cousin Bertrand lest the Queen Mother’s spies left at Saint-Germain noticed, grew suspicious, and contacted her.

Now, here in Paris alone, Rachelle could not shake the emotions of looming catastrophe that hung over her like a thundercloud.

I feel as if something dire is going to befall me . . . or Fabien!

She placed her palms against her womb and paced the floor, a prayer forming from her heart.

Let Your grace enfold us, deliver us, bring us to our safe harbor.
And again she found herself returning to the same plea:
Protect Fabien, please
do not let anything happen to the one you gave me to be my husband and
the père of this bébé.

Rachelle tried to rest on the comfortable bed, hoping to get a little sleep before the long wearisome journey to La Rochelle began.
If we
escape
, she kept thinking. And each time the worries would tumble back in and she would become less sleepy and more tense.

The wind was blowing outside the palais. Each time she thought she heard his footsteps it proved to be a creak in the structure.

The last time she was here, Sebastien and her sisters had escaped, and Fabien had arrived after she returned from the quay and heard the Queen Mother asking the Ruggerio brothers for a poison to use on someone. Who might it have been? The duchesse perhaps. Non! No one important had died in the past year. It might have been Duc de Guise.

Now the Queen Mother believed Fabien would do it for her.

Rachelle placed her palms against her temples and closed her eyes.
I am emotionally depleted, and I am enceinte. I must use reason, not just
feelings.