The Wild Queen by Carolyn Meyer Page A

'I have done all that I can, and God be thanked, I am with child by the king, for which I count myself both honored and happy.’ Her exact words, I heard them from her own lips, said not just to me but to anyone willing to listen.”
    Sinclair helped herself to a bit of bread and spread on a thick layer of fruit conserve. “Where has Lady Fleming gone?” I asked impatiently. “And what will I do now for a governess?” I had not loved her, not the way I did Sinclair, for as governess Lady Fleming had too often seemed preoccupied with her own comfort and not sufficiently concerned with mine. But I had known her since I was born, she was my mother’s friend and familiar to me, and now that she had disappeared, I missed her. And I understood why La Flamin felt humiliated.
    â€œGone to a convent herself, most likely,” said Sinclair with pursed lips. “Madame de Poitiers is not likely to want her back at court, and the king will do whatever the duchess says, just as he always does, poor fool.” Sinclair could not understand why I liked the duchess as much as I did. “As to a new governess,” sniffed Sinclair, “you’ll likely find out soon enough.”

Chapter 12
Heartbreak

    F OR THE NEXT FEW MONTHS my mother traveled all over France, accompanied by her Scottish court. I was often with her. In June, both courts moved to Châteaubriand, a royal palace near Nantes. The English ambassador arrived in France with the purpose of reminding King Henri once more that Edward VI, who had succeeded his horrible father, Henry VIII, as king of England, desired me as his bride. King Henri refused, explaining to the ambassador, as he had done many times in the past, that I was to marry the dauphin. Then one jolly evening King Henri and the English ambassador arrived at a solution, agreeing that Princesse Élisabeth would make an even better match for fifteen-year-old King Edward. This seemed to please everyone. Even Princesse Élisabeth liked the arrangement, though it would not have mattered if she had not.
    A series of fêtes was organized to celebrate the future union. During the day the noblemen engaged in archery, tennis, and wrestling in the open fields while the ladies looked on, wretchedly uncomfortable in the formal court dress that the occasion required. The feasting was put off until midnight, and we dined by moonlight at banquet tables set up under the trees with the benefit of a cooling breeze. On some nights torches were lit, and the men went hunting for red deer, the party going on into the small hours of the morning.
    Rumors of an outbreak of plague in the region of Nantes brought an end to the celebration, and people fled to other parts of the country. When it seemed safe to do so, Maman resumed her progresses, but she had begun to speak about returning to Scotland. Such talk never failed to distress me.
    I pleaded with her not to leave. “Dearest Maman,” I begged, “stay with me here! You belong in France, do you not?” I was sure I would eventually be able to persuade her if I just kept at it long enough and strongly enough. She put me off with a smile and soft words, but as the bright greens of summer were fading, she silenced me firmly.
    â€œMa chère
Marie,” she said, “let me explain something to you. You are the crowned queen of Scotland, and one day you will return to rule the country in which you were born. Until that day comes, it is my duty to protect your interests there, to keep peace among the jealous clans, and to prevent the English on our border from resorting to harsh measures, as they have done in the past. I would prefer to remain here with you, my son François, my mother and brothers and other relatives. Everything I know and love and cherish is here in France, but my duty is in Scotland. And
your
duty, my dear child, is to savor every moment we have together for as long as I am here, and to carry on bravely