The Red Rose of Anjou by Jean Plaidy

a hint of relief.
    ‘Oh, we will think about that when the time comes,’ said René with customary abandon.
    So it seemed that Margaret was destined to marry the Count of Nevers.
    ###
    It was a few days later when there was a visitor at the castle of Tarascon. He came with two manservants only. He had ridden far, he said, and craved a bed for the night.
    Such travellers were never turned away and this one proved to be an entertaining gentleman.
    He was Guy de Champchevrier, a gentleman from Angers. He entertained them as they sat at the table with his stories of the war in which he had served for some years until he had been captured and taken prisoner. He had been held to ransom by an English soldier, Sir John Fastolf. Did they know of him? They would have heard of the Battle of the Herrings outside Orléans. He had been the hero of that little adventure.
    ‘His one claim to fame,’ said the visitor. ‘Unless the other was capturing Guy de Champchevrier...’
    He had been in England for some time and had been at the Court there. He had conversed with the King of England, who had seemed to take a fancy to him. ‘He liked to hear me talk of France,’ he said.
    ‘And what manner of man is this Henry of England?’ asked René.
    ‘A good man...very religious. Handsome in a way, though not like the Plantagenet Kings with their long legs and their yellow hair. He does not bluster or swear, nor does he make sport with the women. I would say that first of all Henry of England is a good man.’
    ‘They will be seeking a wife for him soon,’ said Isabelle.
    ‘Oh yes, my lady, negotiations are going afoot. It will be a daughter of the King...or a daughter of the Count of Armagnac. A French marriage. It will be a seal on the peace.’
    ‘There is nothing like a marriage between two enemies to make a peace,’ said René.
    ‘Yet Henry the Fifth married Katherine of France and there was nothing but war after,’ Margaret reminded them.
    ‘That was a shameful marriage,’ said her mother. ‘Our poor crazy King gave away France at that time.’
    ‘Well, we’re winning it back,’ said Champchevrier, ‘and a marriage will put an end to war. I know that a painter has been sent to the Court of Armagnac for the express purpose of painting the Count’s daughters. There are three of them and they say the King will take the one most to his taste. I know the painter well. A Dutchman named Hans who has a deft hand with the brush. He has had instruction that they shall be painted in simple garments just as he sees them and in no way is Hans to think of making pretty pictures, but to paint exactly what he sees.’
    ‘Ah, it seems as though the King is serious. And he will take the one he Likes best.’
    ‘It’s humiliating,’ said Margaret. ‘If I were one of the Count of Armagnac’s daughters I should refuse to be painted.’
    ‘What, my lady, and deny your chance of being Queen of England?’
    ‘If it meant submitting to such a test, yes.’
    ‘My lord, you have a spirited daughter,’ commented Champchevrier. Then he went on to delight them with stories of the Court of England and it was a very agreeable evening.
    He left early next morning with many protestations of gratitude. It was a few days later when René discovered that a picture he had painted of Margaret was missing.
    It was a charming portrait of the girl in a simple gown with her lovely hair falling about her shoulders and showing to perfection those reddish tints. It was one of René’s favourite paintings.
    His anger quickly passed and he became highly amused.
    ‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘I think that rogue Champchevrier stole the picture of Margaret. He must have been very much impressed by her.’
    ###
    Guy de Champchevrier was congratulating himself on the manner in which he had achieved what he had set out to do. The King would be pleased with him. It was a delightful picture; and what was more important than the King’s approval would be that of