by Jean Plaidy
Agnès did not answer; she lowered her head but Yolande caught the smile of satisfaction.
‘Agnès, I hear Charles has built a Château for you in the forest near Loches. The Château de la Guerche I believe.’
‘That is so, my lady. The King has been very kind to me.’
‘I believe you have been very kind to him.’
The delicate colour in Agnès’s cheeks deepened slightly.
‘My lady, I did not wish to find myself in this position.’
‘I know, I know. He fell in love with you and you wished to escape from him. You had no ambition to be a King’s mistress. I believe that, Agnès, so would all who knew you. But you were at his Court and he would not let you go. You were not a young girl who would fall in love for love’s sake. Charles was hardly the sort, to inspire that, was he? You resisted him and you told him that he was indolent, that he was destroying his country, that you could not admire a King who behaved as he did. Is that so, Agnès?’
‘Perhaps I implied that. A maid of honour to the Queen could scarcely be so bold to the King.’
‘But you were bold, Agnès, because you had this effect on him. He changed his ways to please you. He sought you out. He talked to you. And you were always a clever girl. Rarely is one so blessed with beauty and wisdom and when God bestows these He expects them to be used. I brought you here, Agnès, to tell you that I and the Queen are thankful to you. We believe that you have done as much for France as the Maid did. She showed him the way to victory but you led him there. I want you to know, Agnès, that both I and the Queen are grateful to you...as the whole of France should be. You love him now.’
‘It would be impossible not to. I am so often with him. We talk of the affairs of France.’
‘He listens to you.’
‘I am no general, my lady. I am no statesman. But I do know that the King must bestir himself He must rule. My lady, he does rule now.’
‘Yes, he does indeed. And see what results it is having. The English lost Henry and then the Duke of Bedford. That was good for France, particularly as we regained our King. I wanted you to know, Agnès, that we are with you...the Queen and I. France will be with you...if not now one day. It surprises me that France must be grateful to two women, Joan the Maid and Agnès Sorel.’
‘Others too, my lady. Yourself The King sets great store by your opinion. And there is the Queen, too.’
‘And your little girls are well? There are three of them are there not?’
‘Yes. The King loves them dearly.’
‘May God preserve you, Agnès...you and the King and your family.’
When Agnès had left her Yolande went to her bedchamber to rest. Again that humiliating tiredness had come over her, but she felt relieved and happy.
She had done right in bringing Agnès to Court.
Margaret, too, was able to be with Agnès for a short time. Although Agnès had grown into a woman and was clearly quite an important one, Margaret felt able to talk to her as she was with few others.
She wanted to hear what Agnès had done when she joined the French Court and what it was like to be a lady in waiting to the Queen.
Agnès told her. She spoke to Margaret of her own little girls. ‘Charlotte is growing up now,’ she said, ‘and Agnès is not far behind. Then there is the baby.’
‘Your children, Agnès? I did not know you had a husband.’
Agnès hesitated. Margaret was eleven years old. She might well hear gossip. It would be better for her to hear the truth from Agnès than from others.
‘They are the King’s,’ Agnès explained.
‘But I thought you had to have a husband to have children.’
‘You should,’ Agnès explained, ‘but sometimes it does not happen so. People understand.’
‘I suppose,’ said Margaret with a certain wisdom, ‘it is all right because it is the King.’
‘Yes, I think that might explain it,’ answered Agnès.
‘Agnès, shall you always stay at Court?’
‘I hope to.’
‘The King loves you very much, does he not?’
‘Who told you that?’
‘I saw it in his eyes when he looked at you.’
Agnès was pleased. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘the King loves me and I love the King and that makes everything right.’
‘I was very little when you went away. But I do remember you. I suppose it is because you are so beautiful. I feel I can talk to you...as I can’t talk to anyone else. One cannot talk to Theophanie about some things and no one could ever talk to my grandmother. I could to my father but he is not here.’
‘Of what things, Margaret?’
‘Oh...I am a little frightened sometimes. You see my sister Yolande went away to the Vaudémonts when she was a very little girl and now my brother John is going to marry Marie de Bourbon. One day they will find someone for me to marry and I shall be sent away.’
‘And that frightens you?’
‘It makes me wonder what will become of me.’
‘Dear Margaret, we none of us know what will become of us. That is in God’s hands.’
‘Yes, but we can wriggle out of them if we don’t like what He plans for us...sometimes.’
‘Whatever gave you that notion?’
‘Well, they say that the King who was weak and dissolute has now become kingly and rules his country well. If God meant him to be a great King why did He make him a foolish one for so long? I heard my aunt Marie tell my grandmother that you and the Maid had led him out of his despondency and awakened the desire in him to be a King.’
‘Well, perhaps that was God’s will.’
‘It seems to me,’ said Margaret, ‘that anything can be said to be His will. But it was the Maid and you who actually did it, wasn’t it? I think you make up your mind what you wish to do and do it, and if it turns out to be wrong say, "That was God’s will", and if it is right you did it yourself."
Agnès laughed. ‘You have a clever way of reasoning, Margaret. It is unusual in one so young. Where did you learn that?’
‘From my grandmother. I intend to be exactly like her when I grow up for if I am it will not matter to whom they marry me. I shall be the one to say what has to be done.’
###
The royal visit was over and in due course Margaret and her grandmother went back to Saumur. After all the revelry the castle at Angers needed a thorough sweetening.
Margaret noticed how the journey—although it was less than thirty miles -tired her grandmother. When they arrived at Saumur she stayed in her bed for two days which was something she had never done before.
When she arose she was as energetic as ever and life settled down to the normal routine.
Two years passed. There was no good news from Naples. In fact there was rarely any news at all. Yolande had come to believe that René would never succeed. There were no longer the scares that the English might come and attempt to take the castle. The English were being turned out of France and a peace party under Cardinal Beaufort was formed in England.
‘What they will try to do is to marry the young King to one of Charles’s daughters.’
‘That would be a good way to finish the war,’ said Margaret.
‘I doubt not that is what it will come to. A French Princess for Henry. Yes, these alliances are always a good way of settling differences. I hear that he is a good young man, religious, eager to do what is best. Of course, his kind always seem to lack strength. What he needs is a strong wife, a woman to lead him and the country.’
Margaret smiled. Yolande had always believed firmly in the power of women. She had taught Margaret to believe the same.
‘We shall have to find a suitable match for you, Margaret,’ said Yolande. ‘But for your father’s exploits in Naples it would have been done long ago.’
‘I am content to wait awhile.’
‘It cannot be much longer. You are thirteen, are you n
ot?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘Then it is time.’
A little while before such talk would have made Margaret uneasy. Now she was not so sure. She knew what influence Agnès Sorel had with the King; he was in some measure guided by the women about him. She knew what a power her grandmother was and so was her mother. If success came in Naples it would be due to her rather than to René.
Margaret sometimes dreamed of marriage and of being the wife of some man whom she would be able to lead to greatness.
That this matter occupied the thoughts of her grandmother was obvious because in spite of the fact that she was becoming increasingly tired Yolande decided that she would go to Court and take Margaret with her. It was only right, she said, that Margaret should visit her aunt and there would always be a welcome for them, she knew.
The preparations for such a visit were lengthy. Margaret must be adequately dressed, and Yolande was constantly reminding her of Court etiquette which Margaret absorbed with ease.
Her grandmother was delighted to see what a success the girl was. It was due to her upbringing and Yolande took the credit for that. Margaret was a handsome girl. A pity she was not a little taller, but she was well made and had an air of daintiness which was appealing and somehow in contrast to her sparkling intelligence which was obvious when she conversed.
Agnès was delighted to see Margaret and her aunt Queen Marie expressed her pleasure too.
‘Now that you are growing up,’ she said, ‘you must be with us more often.’
There was a great deal going on in Court circles at that time. For one thing the English Cardinal Beaufort was there.
‘He has come,’ Yolande told her, ‘to try to arrange peace. He is a wise man, this Cardinal. He knows that to continue the war can ruin his country.’
‘I am sure the King will agree with him,’ said Margaret. ‘In that case this must mean we shall soon have peace.’
‘The Cardinal unfortunately does not represent the whole of English opinion. You have heard of the Duke of Gloucester, brother to King Henry the Fifth and the Duke of Bedford. He is for continuing the war.’
‘Then he must be exceedingly foolish.’
‘I believe he is. He has done great harm to the English cause. He nearly brought about a quarrel between Burgundy and the English.’
‘That would have been a good thing.’
‘For France yes...for England disastrous. However, it is indeed good to see the Cardinal here. He is an extremely cultured man and one, I believe, who serves his country well.’
Margaret was presented to the Cardinal. He appeared to be very interested in her. She talked a little about the affairs of her country and he listened to her with the respect he would have shown to one of the King’s ministers.
He remarked afterwards that the daughter of the King of Naples was a most interesting young lady. Moreover a very good-looking one.
‘I see,’ said her aunt Marie, ‘you have captured the attention of my lord Cardinal. What did you say to him that impressed him so much?’
‘Oh, we talked a little of the war and its effects.’
‘That must have amused him...coming from one who could know very little about it.’
‘Oh, I do know something, Aunt. I have kept my ears open. In any case the Bishop seemed interested in my views.’
The Queen laughed. ‘Well, my dear Margaret, it seems that you are being a success at Court. Your parents would be proud of you, I am sure. I am going to ask your grandmother to allow you to come again soon. You are getting too old to be shut away in the country all your life.’
‘Thank you, my lady,’ said Margaret fervently.
When they returned to Angers life certainly seemed a little dull. Yolande noticed the change in Margaret and commented on it. She was not displeased. The girl was meant to take part in affairs. She had a lively brain. There must be more visits to Court and perhaps someone would be so impressed by her that he would think her a possible wife in spite of the fact that she would have no dowry to speak of.
Yes, Yolande was determined that there should be more visits to Court.
In the summer they went again. It did Yolande good too. She loved to be with Charles and she was delighted by the change in him. She spent a good deal of time with her daughter and with Agnès. The visits were stimulating.
I am glad I have lived long enough to see the coming change,’ she said. ‘France will be great again. If the English had any sense they would get out now.’
‘They would,’ said Charles, ‘if it were not for Gloucester and his faction. I believe Beaufort will succeed though. The English must be tired of paying for a war which is bringing them nothing but defeat. You’ll see. We’ll have peace soon.’
‘What think you of my granddaughter?’ asked Yolande.
‘Margaret? A beauty and she has a sharp wit, too. Do you know I think she is going to be another such as her grandmother and that is the highest compliment I can pay her.’
Yes, the visits to Court were certainly very agreeable.
###
That winter was harsh. The snow came early and was piled high about the walls of the castle. It was difficult to keep warm in spite of the large fires. Yolande seemed to feel the cold more than usual. Perhaps this was because she was no longer able to move about with her usual vigour. There was no doubt that she was ailing.
At the beginning of December she took to her bed. Theophanie was in despair. ‘It is so unlike her,’ she kept saying. She made posset after posset and had them sent up to Yolande’s bedchamber. But Yolande needed more than possets. She had led a very full and energetic life and the plain truth was that it was nearing its end.
On the fourteenth of the month, completely exhausted, she died peacefully in her bed.
The youngest of her sons, the Duke of Maine, arrived at the castle and took charge of the arrangements for her funeral. She had always wanted to be buried with her husband in his tomb which was in front of the high altar in the Cathedral of Angers.
Margaret had little time to think of anything until the ceremony was over and then she had to face the fact that there would be a big change in her life.
Her uncle Charles of Maine discussed the situation with her. She was now thirteen which was considered to be of a certain maturity.
He said: ‘It will be impossible for you to remain here now that your grandmother is dead. I have sent word to your father and I have no doubt we shall soon be hearing of him.’
‘Yes,’ said Margaret. ‘Perhaps my parents will come here now.’
‘It would be wise to,’ replied Charles. ‘I believe the Naples adventure has proved disastrous. You should stay here until we receive definite news from them.’
‘Yes, I shall do that,’ replied Margaret.
The Duke was satisfied. Margaret had been brought up in the right way by her grandmother and would therefore be able to deal with a situation such as this one.
Charles of Maine was right about René’s return. He and Isabelle were already at Marseilles having abandoned the Naples adventure. They would come to Saumur with all speed.
The anticipation of the reunion did a good deal to assuage Margaret’s grief at her grandmother’s death. Indeed it took a long time for her to realize that the old lady had gone. She had been such a dominating character and her household had been run under such disciplined order that it continued working in the same way after she had gone.
Each day Margaret watched for her parents’ arrival and it was not long before their approach was sighted by the watcher in the tower.
Margaret was at the gates of the castle waiting to greet them.
A STOLEN PORTRAIT
The meeting was ecstatic. It was long since Margaret had seen her mother. Eight years, Isabelle reminded her. It was four since her father had been in Anjou.
Although it was such a joyous reunion, René had a sorry story to tell. When he had arrived in Na
ples he had been warmly welcomed by the people but as soon as his rival, Alfonso of Aragon, had started to invade it became clear that René was no match for him. He had quickly realized that if he wanted to go on living he must get out of Naples. He had no money with which to continue the fight; he hated the war; he had no great desire for the crown. Even his wife Isabelle realized that they were fighting a losing battle.
‘When a Genoese galley was available we took it and were brought back to France, said René. ‘And, my dearest daughter, how glad I am to be with you.’
There was so much to talk about, and family matters were so much more absorbing to René than the quest for a crown. He was titular King of Naples still, even if he could not stay there and win the crown, and Margaret was a Princess, a fact which she knew would be important when the time came to find a bridegroom for her.
Margaret wanted to know so much. How was John now that he was married to Marie de Bourbon? Had they heard how Yolande was faring at the home of her betrothed, Ferri de Vaudémont? When was Louis joining them? It was wonderful to be once more with her parents.
It occurred to Margaret that they could have been together all the time, for what good had any of René’s attempted conquests done them? He was wise perhaps after all. It was only the opinion of the others and the need to submit to the laws of chivalry which had sent him out to fight. If he had obeyed his own inclinations he would have stayed at home, painting, writing music, singing to delighted audiences and building roads and bridges which he had always wanted to do. His great idea was to turn his towns into seats of culture, to which people came from all over the world to see fine paintings and hear good poetry and music.
He had plans for Angers which would need a great deal of reconstruction as would the whole of Anjou when it was finally taken out of the hands of the English.
They went to the castle of Angers and from there to Tarascon for René was also the Count of Provence and he had responsibilities in that part of the country as well as in Anjou.
For a few months Margaret felt she could forget everything but the joy of being united with her parents. But there were sorrows in the world which could not be ignored.