Written on Silk (51 page)

Madeleine straightened her shoulders and wore a determined face. “All I want is to go away from here.”

Rachelle, understanding the weariness in her eyes, kept silent. Joan began to fuss in the next chamber and Madeleine went there. Her face changed, a sparkle came to her eyes, and she smiled as she took her daughter from the nurse. She held her possessively close.

On that same afternoon she accidentally overheard Sebastien speaking urgently to Madeleine: “Nothing else matters, just . . .”

“But Sebastien — ”

“I must take them to him now. Do as I say, chère.”

“He will take nothing else?”

“Non.”

Rachelle bit her lip, backed quietly away, and returned to her chamber. Did Sebastien have debts?

When Rachelle came to the table for the evening dinner she noticed Idelette whispering vehemently to Madeleine. Upon seeing her, they drew apart. Sebastien did not show for the meal, and Rachelle noted that both of her sisters appeared tense.

After dîner no one spoke much. Sebastien did not come back to the appartement. Soon, Madeleine stated that she had a headache and was going to retire, and Idelette had correspondence to catch up on.

Rachelle, left alone, watched them leave, wondering. As Idelette turned the corner to her chamber, she looked back over her shoulder, and Rachelle caught her looking at her.

“A bonne nuit, petite sister,” Idelette said.

Early in the morning, Rachelle was awakened by Nenette shaking her shoulder.

“Wake up, Mademoiselle, wake up. Philippe was with the boys at the stables when he saw the Queen Mother and Madalenna arrive secretly.”

Rachelle sat upright, wide awake. “Secretly?”

“She came without fanfare — no trumpets and flags, and with an unmarked coach. And Mademoiselle, that is not all.” Nenette lowered her voice to a bare whisper. “Philippe has something to tell you.”

Rachelle threw on her loose-bodied gown over her night smock.

“Quickly, then.”

Nenette beckoned for Philippe to enter.

His dark eyes reflected like pools, brimming with excitement and fear.

“Mademoiselle, I saw the girl that the stable boys call Madalenna creeping about, so I followed her. There is a secret passage behind the palais. She waited there. Then an old market woman came out, and they went to the river. Then I realized it was not a market woman but the Queen Mother. I followed them to the wharf. There were strange shops and some houses. The Queen Mother went inside a house behind the apothecary shop. And the name said ‘Ruggerio Brothers.’ ”

Rachelle gripped his arm. “When was this?”

“Only a little time ago. Then I came to Nenette.”

Her heart beat faster. “Can you point out the house and shop on the wharf?”

“That is why I ran here. But we need to hurry.”

“Wait for me in the courtyard. I shall be there in a very few minutes.”

When he had gone, Nenette was breathing quickly with excitement. “Is it safe for you to go? What if she sees you? Oh, Mademoiselle, do not do this.”

“She will not see me. Quick, hand me the dark dress and the cloak.”

“If the Queen Mother learns of your suspicion, she will poison you!”

The truth was so bluntly put that Rachelle was speechless for a moment.

Nenette wrung her fingers. “Oh, Mademoiselle, one faux pas and — ”

“Hush. I will not be seen. Make excuses for me should my sisters ask.

Do not tell them I have gone to the wharf.”

Within a brief time Rachelle slipped from Comte Sebastien’s chambers and entered the back courtyard nearest the river Seine. The dawning sun had not yet burned away the mist over Paris. Philippe was waiting out of sight and took her to the dark river and the wharf.

They hurried in the mist, the boats creaking. Farther down the wood walkway, Philippe pointed toward fish and fruit shops. Behind them stood the many cramped and narrow houses. In the early mist they looked like wooden crates facing toward the town, but a few had oil lamps lit, showing golden windows.

“Over there, Mademoiselle. That is where she went — to that house, the tall one. There are shops too. See? The lamps are lit early for business.”

She turned to him, trying to look stern. “This is far enough for you, ami Philippe. Go back now and wait for me in the courtyard.”

“Should I not hide and keep watch? Where is the spy, Madalenna?”

Madalenna worried her, but she feared involving Philippe even more than she worried about the Italian spy or the dwarves. As Philippe went back, she walked toward the markets. They were already opening for a busy day’s work. The noise and babble on the wharf was breaking like the sunlight through the mist. She came to the shop that Philippe had pointed out. In the window there was an assortment of fine leather gloves and jewelry. A wooden sign tossed in the breeze: “Ruggerio Brothers.” The shop was closed. Rachelle looked up and saw the house above the shop. This must be the residence of the brothers from Florence.

The “market woman” was nowhere to be seen. Could she have left already?

Rachelle decided to conceal herself and wait to see if she departed, then talk to the brothers, pretending to want to buy gloves.

Foul smelling breezes tossed her cloak and mantle. She hesitated, then circled around the shop to the side of the house. A window was drawn open and silhouettes moved about inside the room. Then Rachelle caught sight of her. The Queen Mother was dressed as Philippe had said. Catherine was standing in front of two men with stooped shoulders. She was making blunt gestures with her hands.

“I need something that will work on a seigneur. Most shrewdly devised, and untraceable. No gloves or rings. I want something that leaves no evidence.”

“Come in back, Madame. We have something never used in France.

It leaves no trace. Cosmo tried it on his rats and cats and it worked.”

“There was no trace?”

“Non, Madame.”

“But will it work on larger specimens?”

“Cosmo used it on a branded woman, and it worked quickly.”

A branded woman was a poor creature who had once been arrested as a thief. Rachelle shuddered. Why should she be surprised? Did she not suspect Grandmère’s death to be murder? But even as fear goaded her to flee, she heard a rustle in the bushes to her right. She turned her head to see the dark eyes of Madalenna meeting hers.

Horrified, Rachelle fled through the shadows and back along the busy wharf. She looked over her shoulder but did not see Madalenna.

Rachelle ran, reaching the small swaying bridge, where she paused, grabbing hold of the rail and trying to calm her heart.

She saw me. She knows it was me. She knows I was listening — She
knows I understand that the Queen Mother is a murderer!

Frightened and angry with herself for having taken such a risk, she hurried across the bridge and back along the walkway into the courtyard. Here she paused again to look over her shoulder toward the murky Seine, gray and mysterious in the misty morning, where small boats were plying up and down the waterway.

Once inside the palais she entered Sebastien’s appartement.

There came a breathless cry from Nenette who met her with wide eyes and clasped hands. “Oh, Mademoiselle Rachelle. Look!”

Nenette turned her head and stared into Madeleine’s bedchamber.

Rachelle rushed to the door and looked inside.

“They are gone,” Nenette cried.

“Gone? How can they be gone?”

Philippe burst in, his eyes large with excitement. “Mademoiselle, it is true. Mademoiselle Idelette is gone too. Her bedchamber is empty.”

“That is not possible,” Rachelle cried. “They cannot simply disappear.”

Though the wardrobe contained clothing and shoes and hats, the bureau drawers that had held items for travel were empty. Still refusing to believe it, she hurried over to the box where Madeleine kept the treasured bébé blanket that Grandmère had made here at the Louvre for Joan just before Grandmère’s death. Madeleine would never leave it behind.

Rachelle lifted the lid of the box.
Empty.
The treasured blanket was gone. She looked further and discovered that Joan’s bébé clothing was missing as well.

Then it was true. They had departed silently during the night
. Rachelle felt as though she had swallowed a brick. She looked around her with a sense of loneliness and loss.

So this was the secret Sebastien had kept to himself and Madeleine these
months. How long had Idelette known? Probably not for very long. Their
escape beneath the very nose of the Queen Mother was also undoubtedly
the cause for Sebastien taking Madeleine’s jewels. He was telling her not
to take anything but the jewels and essentials. Evidently he had been packing
priceless goods elsewhere and preparing them for travel, but travel
to where? The château? Non, that was not far enough away to satisfy
Sebastien.

Then Rachelle saw the note at the bottom of the box where Joan’s blanket had been stored.

Chère sister,

Idelette told me to put our lettre here in the box where she knew
you would look. Please burn it as soon as you are finished reading. By
now you understand we have departed from Paris. We are on our way
to freedom, and England. We will write from London when safely
settled at Spitalfields with Cousin Bertrand. We kept this from you
for two reasons; Sebastien insisted that if anything went wrong and
we were caught, he did not want to involve you. Your ignorance of the
plan would spare you. Secondly, we knew you would not be coming
to England, that your calling from God yet remains in France. The
decision to leave France at this time is Sebastien’s and mine alone. Père Arnaut knows of our decision, for he and Sebastien discussed
this secret plan and how to enact it soon after Sebastien’s release from
the Bastille. Idelette’s decision to come with us was encouraged by
our parents because Mère thinks it will be better for our sister to give
birth in England. We will all be staying with Cousin Bertrand until
we become settled. We will, with God’s speed, be meeting Père Arnaut
and Mère Clair in Spitalfields when we arrive. As you already know,
Père is trying to buy some land outside London. When they return to
France to see you, they will tell you all that will have happened. Pray
for our safe voyage, especially for Idelette, that the voyage is not too
difficult for her. Duchesse Dushane knows of our plans, as Sebastien
discussed these matters with her at Fontainebleau. Andelot does not
know. You will see the duchesse there in Paris soon, and our bon ami,
Andelot. Stay close to them.

Adieu, ma chère soeur. Our amour as ever. Until we meet again, Madeleine, Sebastien, Idelette, and petite Joan

Jeremiah 29:11

How long until the Queen Mother calls for me to explain my presence
at the Ruggerio brothers’ shop?
She will return to the palais soon, by the secret way she had departed disguised as a market woman.
How long before Madalenna informs her about Mademoiselle Rachelle
Macquinet the spy. Oh, how the Queen Mother detests spies when they spy
on her.
Rachelle paced across the Aubusson rug in the salle de séjour of Sebastien’s appartement, her perfumed skirts of blue and ivory silk rustling softly with her tense movements.

She is too shrewd to believe I was there by coincidence. Ça alors! Now
what? Oh, why did I take such a foolish risk? She will know I followed
her.

The pit in which Rachelle found herself trapped at the Louvre was closing in about her. If her own situation were not enough to take her to the Bastille, what of the Queen Mother’s response when she discovered Sebastien took his family and escaped France while in ser vice to her
?

Rachelle shuddered at the thought of facing the serpentlike eyes of Catherine. Her family had departed and now she must face the woman alone! They could not have guessed her dilemma, and she had no one but herself to blame for her adventure on the wharf.

Non, I am not alone.
She ceased her pacing and placed a hand to her forehead, momentarily closing her eyes, trying to remember details from Scripture of individuals in grave circumstances . . . Daniel for one. Daniel in the court of heathen kings . . . Daniel walking circumspectly amid his duties, serving with dignity, yet remaining faithful to God.

She resumed her restless pacing. The chambers were still. Not even Madeleine’s ladies-in-waiting were anywhere to be found, which caused Rachelle to wonder what Sebastien may have told them. It was not likely they would have left for England with Madeleine, for several were married and they all had their families in France. Perhaps the Duchesse Dushane had aided in the ruse in some way. Had they been told to wait for Madeleine at Fontainebleau believing she would go there?