Twilight of a Queen (43 page)

Henry scowled at her. Whether it was the sight of the mob outside his gates or anything she had said, Catherine thought she saw the light of reason return to his eyes.

Thrusting her hands away from him, the king returned to greet the duke after Henry’s usual sullen fashion. Catherine released a tremulous breath of relief. Somehow she had once more averted disaster.

But for how long?

She was unable to breathe easy until Henry’s brief meeting with de Guise was over. It resolved nothing just as Catherine had expected. But at least the duke would be leaving here alive. Catherine accompanied him, bracing her self to once more face the hostile crowds.

Henry brooded in silence until he was certain his mother had gone. Then he summoned his guard and issued commands.

“Send word to my commanders. I want my troops moved into the city at once. I will have order in my own streets. And once this rabble is driven back into their homes, I shall be able to deal with Monsieur de Guise.”

THE CHURCH WAS BUT A SHORT WALK FROM HER COUSIN’S, BUT
by the time they reached Abigail’s courtyard, Jane felt shaken and exhausted.

She hurried ahead of Xavier, leading the way into the house. The first sight that met her eyes was Violette huddled at the foot of the stairs, looking terrified.

The girl leaped up at the sight of Jane. She nearly knocked Jane over as she hurled herself against her, wrapping her arms about Jane’s waist.

“Oh, Madame Danvers. It is the end of the world. Everyone said this was going to happen. The king has plotted with the Huguenots to take back Paris from the Catholics. They will come to murder us all.”

“Nonsense,” Jane said bracingly, patting the girl’s back.

“It isn’t nonsense.” Tears streamed down Violette’s cheeks. “I remember the horrible sound of those bells from when I was a little girl. It was the same signal that started the St. Bartholomew’s Massacre.”

“The bells are only ringing to welcome the duc de Guise back to Paris.”

But this information did little to comfort Violette. “T-the duke was ordered to stay away from Paris. The king
will be so angry. He will bring up his troops and the duke will summon his. There will be war in the streets, killing, pillaging.”

The girl trembled. “We will probably be ravished and—and our tongues cut out and our breasts hacked off.”

Jane stared at the girl. Who would have ever imagined meek little Violette to be possessed of such a lurid imagination?

“Calm yourself, Violette. Nothing like that is going to happen. Captain Xavier is going to get us all to safety.”

Violette peered around Jane at Xavier, but even Jane had to admit that in his disheveled state, Xavier looked more like a marauder than a rescuer.

Violette shuddered and Jane had to all but peel the girl off of her. “Where is your mistress? Is she upstairs?”

The question produced a fresh spate of sobs from Violette. “Madame B-benton is gone. She left at the first hint of trouble.”

Jane frowned, incredulous. “What do you mean she left? She is out there in those streets alone?”

Violette shook her head. “No, Gerard is with her. He—he procured a horse and they are headed for Calais.”

“And Abby did not even trouble to leave a note for me?” Jane asked.

“She said to tell you that she could not wait, but that you should follow as best you are able.”

“As best as I—Damnation,” Jane swore, leaving Violette gaping at her in astonishment. Jane knew her cousin for a flighty, inconsiderate woman, but this passed all bounds even for Abigail.

“Let me understand this correctly,” Xavier said, stepping
forward. “This Gerard. He is your cousin’s husband and he returned for her?”

“No,” Jane said, her face stinging with mortification. It was she who had convinced Xavier to come back for Abigail.

“He is the footman.” She could scarce look Xavier in the eye, fearing he would be furious.

But to her astonishment, Xavier let out a roar of laughter. “Your cousin ran off with the footman? That’s marvelous. I hope he at least was a handsome one.”

“He was, monsieur. Very,” Violette confirmed with a sniff, setting Xavier off into fresh peals.

To her astonishment, Jane found herself joining him. Perhaps it was the strain of these last hours, finding release, but they both laughed until they were on the verge of tears.

It was Xavier who stopped first, abruptly. Even his smile faded as he listened intently.

Checking her own mirth, Jane said, “What—”

But Xavier motioned her to silence. Her breath stilled as she heard it too. Jane had never been near a battlefield in her life, but even she recognized it—the distant sound of gunfire.

Ordering her to remain where she was, Xavier charged out of the house. But Jane ignored his command and raced after him.

They did not have to go far to discover the source of the sounds. At the end of the street, a contingent of the king’s troops was under attack from a mob of angry Parisians armed with rocks, clubs, anything they could find.

Despite their weapons, the guard was badly outnumbered
and with no place to retreat. The end of the street had been barricaded with barrels, boards, and heaped-up rubble.

Pistol shots blazed, swords flared. One overwhelmed soldier tried to scramble over the barricade, only to be dragged back down. The mob surged around the terrified young man, beating him with clubs.

Jane cried out in horror, but there was nothing to be done. Thrusting her behind him, Xavier marshaled their retreat back to the house.

JANE LIT THE CANDLES IN HER BEDCHAMBER AS NIGHT FELL
, bringing some measure of peace to a day rife with fear and tension.

Jambe and Pietro had managed to get through and join them at the house. The tidings they brought were grim. Barricades had been erected at various points all through the city, effectively containing the king’s troops. The Swiss Guard had been obliged to retreat, leaving the Parisians in control of the city.

Gazing out her window, Jane could see fires blazing in the distance, hear the occasional sound of gunshots, but it seemed to come from farther off. Hostilities appeared to have ceased for the moment, but there was no telling what the morning might bring.

Xavier and his men had barricaded the doors and windows of the house and were taking turns mounting guard. Violette had spent most of the day hiding in the pantry. Jane surmised the girl had fallen asleep in there.

She knew she ought to try to get some rest herself. She was exhausted, but she could not even close her eyes. A light knock sounded on the door and Xavier appeared, bearing a tray of bread, cheese, and wine.

Jane thanked him, but shook her head. “I have no appetite.”

“You must try to eat something, Jane. You have hardly taken a morsel all day. At least try some of the wine.”

To please him, she took a sip. She ran her hand self-consciously through the ends of her hair that was half tumbling out of its chignon.

“I must look a terrible fright.”

“You always look beautiful to me,” he murmured.

She managed a wan smile. “Yes, but we both know what a gifted liar you are.”

“Not about everything,” he chuckled, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear.

Her gaze locked with his. “Please tell me the truth, Xavier. What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted. “The duke and the king appear to be at an impasse, but they must come to terms eventually. We just have to wait it out. I am sure we will come through this unscathed.”

“If we do, it will be no thanks to me.” Jane paced away from him, rubbing her arms. “It is my fault we are trapped here. I was the one who insisted we return for Abby You may feel quite free to tell me ‘I told you so.’”

“It would be far more fitting if you hurled those words at me. Pietro, Jambe, and you all warned me about practicing my tricks on Catherine de Medici. But I was so damned
sure of myself, I wouldn’t listen. I completely underestimated the woman.”

He sighed. “If de Guise had not arrived when he did, we would both be prisoners of the Dark Queen and she would be preparing to launch an attack on Meg and Faire Isle as well.”

The candlelight reflected in his eyes, dark with self-reproach. “I was unbelievably stupid, reckless, and foolhardy.”

“But incredibly brave. You didn’t take such a risk for personal gain. You were trying to put things right for Meg and everyone on Faire Isle.”

“Yes, but—” He was silent for a moment. “I don’t think I did it for Meg or even my sisters.

“I did it to impress you, Jane,” he said, his voice as intense as his eyes. “When you learned the truth that day on Faire Isle, I could not bear the disappointment I saw on your face. I had grown too accustomed to that soft light that would steal into your eyes whenever you looked at me.” He swallowed. “Even though I know I do not deserve your approbation, I crave it like the air that I breathe.”

Jane gazed wonderingly up at him. “But why? Why would my opinion matter so much to you?”

“Because I love you, you little fool.”

Jane blinked. She had never expected to hear him say such a thing, but how like Xavier to fling the words at her in such blunt fashion in the middle of a revolution.

She started to laugh, but her emotions overflowed in a gush of tears instead. He wiped her cheeks with his knuckles.

“There, there, my dear, I think I would weep myself to learn that I was to be burdened with the heart of such a scoundrel. Never mind. You may still tell me to go to the devil.”

But Jane hurled herself at him instead, burying her face against his chest. He cradled her close, kissing the top of her head.

“Oh, Jane,” he murmured against her hair. “I tried to stay away from you, knowing you would be the better for it. All you ever wanted to be was safe, respectable.”

“No,” she said. “I realize I want so much more than that. I—I want to feel bursting with life when I awake each morning. I want days filled with wonder, excitement, and surprise. I want
you.”

“I am glad to hear that because I am just too damned selfish to leave you again.”

She sniffed, managing to smile through her tears. She shifted her head to look up at him. “Then I hope you will always continue to be so selfish.”

“You may count upon it, my lady. I am a villain through and through.”

He proceeded to prove it by kissing her in a ruthless way no respectable man ever would, his tongue breaching her lips, plundering her mouth until she was breathless.

It was only now when she was back in his arms, that she acknowledged the pain of these past weeks, how she had felt bruised and bleeding inside as though a part of her had gone missing.

Swept up in his embrace, she was whole again, as if after being lost, she was back where she belonged. The
threat of the Dark Queen, the possibility of revolution—all for the moment was forgotten.

Kissing and caressing, they tumbled feverishly into bed, impatiently thrusting clothing aside, making love as though it were both for the first and very last time.

C
ATHERINE KEPT CLEAR OF THE WINDOWS FOR FEAR OF ANY
stray pistol shot or even an intentional one. The conflict between Paris and the king had resumed with the break of day. Catherine wondered if there would be anything left of the city after many more days of this, but she felt too wearied to even curse her son.

Henry had always been weak and given to vacillation. When the man did decide to take action, why must it always be the wrong one?

She had warned him not to bring the Swiss Guard into Paris, although for a brief moment it had seemed Henry might gain the upper hand.

But the citizenry of Paris had been strangely well prepared
for the king’s maneuver, hemming the royal troops in with their crude barricades.

There was only one man now who could bring this madness to a halt. But the duc de Guise sat at the conference table, calmly cleaning his nails, waiting for her to comment on his list of demands.