The Queen and the Courtesan (13 page)

Henriette was bitterly disappointed that the Queen had produced a son. She had banked on it being a daughter, or, even better, stillborn. ‘I care not whether his wife is “going on well”,' she cried, tossing the letter aside with such contempt her sister Marie had to run to catch the royal missive before it fell into the fire. ‘Does he never think of
me
, his
true
queen? Why has he abandoned me for
her
?'

‘Give him a son, sister dear. He'll come running fast enough then.'

Three weeks later, to her great joy and relief, Henriette did precisely that. She gave birth to a fine, healthy boy, Gaston Henri, at Verneuil. ‘At last I have finally achieved my aim,' she cried in exultation.

The King sent his physician, La Rivière, to attend his mistress but did not visit himself. Henriette wrote numerous furious letters expressing her displeasure at his neglect. ‘Why does he not come? Have I not given him the son he wanted?'

‘But sadly too late,' came the reply.

‘Nonsense, it is never too late.' Henriette was already secretly dreaming of how this might change everything for her. ‘I shall speak to our father and brother on the subject of a legal challenge to the royal marriage. I still have the signed document remember.'

‘How could that signify now, since the Queen gave birth first?'

Henriette slapped at her sister's wrist in annoyance. ‘Do not be so stupid. This promise of marriage Henry gave to me pre-dates the Italian nuptials. It is as binding as a contract. He was mine
first
.' Even if that son did not survive, this one will. Henriette made a private vow to have her son granted the position he rightly deserved. In order to achieve that, she needed to prove the Italian marriage false. She summoned Father Hilaire, a Capuchin monk she'd met some time ago when he'd acted as a secret agent for the Duke of Savoy.

‘I wish you to show this promise of marriage, signed by the King, to His Holiness, and ask if this does not make the royal marriage to the Medici illegal. In which case my son, Henri, would then be the true dauphin, and not the child of the Italian woman. Bring me back proof that this document is binding.'

The moment the monk had left on his mission Henriette again wrote to the King, begging him to come to her. Seeking an excuse to quit the court, Henry came up with the pretext that the Spanish troops in Flanders might be planning a raid on northern France. Queen Elizabeth was at Dover, and it was suggested that the French monarch should cross the Channel to see her while he was at the frontier. But claiming that even Kings are not exempt from seasickness, Henry declined to make the trip. He sent Biron in his place, who was showing some signs of repentance for allying himself with the Duke of Savoy. State affairs thus dealt with, Henry rode quickly across country to Verneuil where he delightedly kissed this second son and dandled him on his knee.

‘Is he not a finer child than that of the Queen?' Henriette insisted, purring with pleasure at her own cleverness. ‘And all French; not a drop of Italian blood in him.'

‘Certainly Louis has the look of a Medici rather than a Bourbon, being dark and plump, and this child is admittedly more handsome. He takes more after me, I think,' decided the King, on a cheerful note of self-flattery.

Part Four

I
NTRIGUE AND
C
ONSPIRACY

1601–1603

O
n 27 October the Dauphin made his public entry into Paris in a sumptuous cradle presented to him by the Grand Duchess of Florence. Marie felt a glow of pride that it had been she who had brought about this blessing upon the French people. Beside her in the open litter sat Madame de Montglât, her son's nurse, who lifted the child in her arms for the cheering crowds to see, some even falling to their knees in homage to the infant prince.

The only cloud over these events arose when Henry had his son's horoscope read. Superstition was always rife about court, with many courtiers having more than a passing interest in magic and sorcery. Catherine de Medici herself had been a well-known exponent of the dark arts. Now some murmured of an earthquake having taken place on the night of the Dauphin's birth. Did this mean that the nation would be plunged into yet more wars and catastrophes?

Seeking reassurance Henry commanded Monsieur de la Rivière, who professed a knowledge in the science of astrology, to draw up an accurate horoscope for little Louis. But as the weeks passed without a response, Henry grew impatient and again summoned the astrologer to his presence, demanding to know what was the cause of this delay.

‘Sire,' said La Rivière, clearly shaking with nerves, ‘I have abandoned the undertaking as I am reluctant to sport with a science whose secrets I have partially forgotten. And which I have, moreover, frequently found defective.'

Henry was instantly suspicious. ‘I am not to be deceived by so idle a pretext. You have no such scruples. More likely you have resolved not to reveal to me what you have ascertained because you fear I should discover the fallacy of your pretended knowledge, or else be angered by your prediction. Whatever may be the cause of your hesitation, I command you, upon pain of my displeasure, to tell me truthfully.'

Still Rivière hesitated, until it became evident that it would be more dangerous to remain silent rather than speak. With reluctance he proceeded to tell what he had discovered. ‘Sire, your son will live to manhood and reign longer than yourself. But he will resemble you in no particular. He will indulge his own opinions and caprices, and sometimes those of others. During his rule it will be safer to think than to speak. Ruin threatens your ancient institutions, all your measures will be overthrown. He will accomplish great deeds, be fortunate in his undertakings, and will become the theme of all Christendom. He will have issue, but after his death more heavy troubles will ensue. This is all that you shall know from me, and even this is more than I had proposed to tell you.'

Henry was dismayed by this bleak forecast of his precious son's life – not at all what he had hoped for – and coldly responded, ‘I dare say you allude to the Huguenots, but I assume you only talk thus because you have their interests, and mine, at heart.'

‘Interpret my meaning as you wish, Sire, you shall learn nothing more from me.' And so saying, the astrologer sketched a bow and hastily withdrew.

When Donna Leonora brought news of the birth to the Queen, as well as the King's reaction to it, Marie wept bitter tears of disappointment. ‘How dare Henry prefer his mistress's child to our own precious dauphin?'

‘There is more, Your Majesty. Thanks to the contacts I have made in the household of La Marquise, I have learned that the she-cat is plotting to have the royal marriage annulled on the grounds that it is illegal. She has commissioned Father Hilaire to journey to Rome and seek an audience with the Pope.'

Marie felt as if her heart might explode with anger and at once sought advice from various lawyers and canons. Their answers were far from reassuring. If the King's marriage were brought into question by His Eminence, and ultimately found to be invalid, the Dauphin's legitimacy would indeed be in doubt.

‘I need help, Leonora,' she cried. ‘Bring me Rosny.'

The minister was equally anxious to be rid of the Marchioness de Verneuil, fully realizing that there would be no peace in the royal household so long as Henry's infatuation for this dangerous woman continued.

‘You can safely leave this matter to me, Your Majesty. The Marquise will never prove her case as this is not the first time the King has written such a letter. In fact, he tends to make a habit of it, and all have proved worthless. Nevertheless, you were right to call me, and we will take no chances. I shall dispatch Villeroy with all speed and order him to apprehend Father Hilaire before he has the opportunity to do any damage. I will also contact Cardinal d'Ossat, who protects our interests in Rome, and warn him of what is afoot. Do not fear, Madame de Verneuil will not succeed in her quest.'

Marie went next to see the King to inform him of what she had learned. ‘That woman, your paramour, is threatening to declare our royal marriage illegal. She thrives on intrigue, and dares to attempt to disinherit our son.'

‘Pray do not excite yourself, my love. You are but recently recovered from childbirth.'

‘My health is just fine, thank you. Nor have I lost my wits and know when I am being threatened. This woman means mischief and should be charged with treason against the crown.' By the time she had related the full details even Henry could not deny a very real concern.

He was aware that he was far too tolerant of Henriette's moods and foibles, her sharp tongue and soaring ambition. Sometimes he ached to release himself from her spell, but she need only cast him a scorching glance from those bewitching green eyes and he was again in thrall. He could see now that it had been foolish of him to write her that promise. Although such a letter had never rebounded upon him so badly before, and he was a man who needed peace about him, not warring women. Why could he never achieve that? But if she was pressing His Holiness to intercede on her behalf the situation was more serious than he had realized. ‘I will speak with her on the matter,' he promised Marie.

‘Soon?'

‘Without delay.'

As always with matters involving emotions and marital dispute, Henry shut the problem from his mind, hoping it would resolve itself without any action on his part. But Rosny soon brought him news that Father Hilaire had indeed been granted an audience with His Eminence, and Henry could ignore the matter no longer.

‘Fortunately the Cardinal intervened and had him incarcerated in an Italian monastery in order to prevent him from returning to France with whatever advice he had gained from the Pope,' Rosny explained.

Henry groaned. Why was he ever beset by intrigue? ‘Tell all. I need to hear the full tale.'

‘The wily monk did attempt to escape but was apprehended by Villeroy, who was in regular communication with d'Ossat. The fellow was arrested and interrogated by the Papal Nuncio.'

‘Was Henriette implicated?' The King asked the question with great trepidation, fearing the worst.

Rosny spared him nothing. ‘Indeed she was, Sire. Father Hilaire was to inform her that the Marquise might choose her time and bring a suit for annulment, or await your death and claim her rights then, along with those of her son. Or else she could aim to take the place of Queen Marie, should she die in childbirth.'

‘Dear Lord, she has betrayed me.'

Henry faced his mistress, his expression grim as he informed her of all that he had learned.

Damping down her terror over the discovery of this intrigue, Henriette faced him with stubborn pride blazing in her eyes. ‘Of what am I accused? This is but court gossip which the Queen has spread against me. You have no proof.'

He regarded his mistress with sadness in his heart. ‘Among Hilaire's belongings were found two compromising letters written by yourself. And letters from lawyers assuring the monk that my royal union with Queen Marie de Medici should be declared null and void. Does that not smack of treachery?'

Henriette fell to her knees, realizing her cause was lost. ‘I would never hurt you, my lord.'

Cupping her lovely face between his gentle palms he kissed her forehead. ‘Dear heart, I know you would never
mean
to hurt me, but this is a bad business. I cannot imagine why you felt the necessity to take such measures. Did you not trust me to protect and care for our son? However, you must always remember that Louis is the legitimate dauphin, and no letter I gave to you can ever change that fact.'

‘But I am dishonoured. I lay with you only because of that promise of marriage. And you were mine
first
!'

‘And if you had given me little Henri at that time, before I was married, it would have been a different matter, but sadly that did not happen. The storm took our poor child and we cannot go back and change that fact. We –
you
– must accept the reality of your situation.'

She crumpled and fell to the ground in a storm of tears. He had meant to be angry with her, to upbraid her for her mischief and interference, but nothing upset him more than to see a woman weep. Besides, fearing she might make the letter public and use it against him, it was essential he keep her content. Somehow he had to persuade her to return it. It meant no more than the one he had given to Corisande all those years ago. Why could she not see that? Lifting her in his arms Henry carried her to the bed.

‘There, there, dear heart, do not upset yourself. We can still love each other. I shall still care for you and visit you.' He kissed her mouth, her throat, the soft curve of her breasts spilling out above her silk gown.

‘But how can you come to me every night, as I so long for you to do, when the Queen keeps you close at court and I am stuck out here in the country. Life is so dull and lonely without you. You will soon forget me and find another mistress to please you.'

‘Never, my sweet. You are my only one,' Henry assured her with the glibness of long practice. Her body was soft and warm against his, her breasts full and ripe for love. His need for her was consuming him, becoming ever more urgent by the second. Pushing up her skirts he thrust himself into her without preamble. Taking her whenever they had quarrelled always added a certain dash of excitement and danger to their lovemaking. And she was never more eager, more imaginative than when she most wanted to please him.