"It must be all," de Guise insisted.

"Navarre and Condé will convert to Catholicism when faced with no other choice. With their leaders gone the remaining Huguenots will also have no other choice but to return to Mother Church. We need these people, Charles. They are industrious and clever, and have much to offer us. Navarre and Condé must be spared."

"Yes, Mother, I understand, but as for the rest, kill them all! I want not one left alive to reproach me! Not one!" He began to shiver uncontrollably with fear. "Marie," he whimpered. "I want Marie!"

Catherine turned her all-seeing eyes to Alençon. "You," she snapped, pointing a fat accusatory finger at him, "Fetch Mademoiselle Touched"

With a mocking smile of congratulation and a sketchy bow, the Duc d'Alençon said, "Of course, maman. At once," and he left the King's chamber.

Mademoiselle Touchet, the King's mistress, was quickly brought to him from her nearby apartments. Seeing his distress, Marie Touchet ran to the King with a sympathetic little cry and began to soothe his fears with her gentle reassurances, from soft hands and voice. The Queen Mother nodded approvingly, and then signaled to the others to follow her out of the room. The frightened King never even saw them go.

Outside the King's rooms Catherine de Medici turned to her son, Anjou, and the Duc de Guise. "I mean what I say, gentlemen. If anything happens to Navarre or Condé, you will not survive them any longer than it takes me to find out; and you know that I do not speak idly, messieurs."

"When is it to be done?" Anjou demanded.

"Come with me to my apartments, and we will speak further on it," his mother said, moving swiftly away from the King's rooms. Entering her salon, she abruptly dismissed her women, and then, turning to de Guise and her son, said, "It must be done tonight."

"There is no time," replied de Guise, the soldier.

"You have no choice," Catherine said. "At this very moment Coligny lies wounded, but tomorrow or the next day he will be well enough to come to the King with his personal accusations. Then all is lost for us. It must be tonight! Now! Before Coligny has the opportunity to see Charles again."

"It is not yet evening," de Guise mused slowly. "Perhaps if we worked quickly, and spread the word to our people. Once it has begun, all Paris will join in to destroy the Huguenots. Yes, it can be done! When the tocsin sounds at two o'clock tomorrow morning, we will begin. Is that satisfactory, Majesty? Is that time enough?"

"Yes," was the reply. "It is a good time, for the pious Huguenots will be sleeping in their houses." She smiled. "All but my good beau-frère, who will be celebrating with the rest of the court at the last ball to be given in honor of his marriage to my daughter. Tomorrow Margot and Navarre will go down to Chenonceaux for their honeymoon trip away from all distractions of the court."

"I still say that Navarre should be killed, too," de Guise muttered.

"Why? So your adulterous union with my daughter might be made legal-after, of course, the removal of your wife? I think not, de Guise. Be grateful I did not have you removed forcibly these past three afternoons from my daughter's bed where you have lingered while Henri of Navarre played tennis with Alençon in the courts by the river."

"Madame!" The Duc de Guise made an attempt at denial, which Catherine waved aside.

"Do not bother to deny the truth, m'sieur. It is of no import in this matter. What is important is that we keep our dear Navarre and Condé amused tonight. I think for Condé it will be Mademoiselle de Grenier."

"You cannot lure Condé with a woman, Mother! He is newly married himself, and besides, he is an awful prude," Anjou said.

Catherine laughed. "You underestimate me, my son. Condé's passion, military strategist that he is, is chess. Mademoiselle de Grenier is the finest chess player at court. She will engage him in a tourney, and keep him thus occupied. As to his wife, I will see that Alençon keeps her amused, for she is quite fond of him in a sisterly way."

"And Navarre?" the Duc de Guise queried Catherine.

"For Navarre I have a special treat, messieurs. Since the night before his wedding he has been vigorously pursuing the Comte de Cher's soon-to-be belle-fille. She is an Irishwoman named Madame Burke, betrothed to marry the comtesse's son by her first marriage, a Seigneur de Marisco. The lady has been quite adamant in her refusal of Henri, which, of course, only makes him more ardent."

"What of the betrothed husband?" Anjou demanded. "Where does he stand in all of this?"

"He is amused," the Queen Mother said, "and does not consider Navarre a severe threat to his betrothed wife. Were it not for my aid, Navarre would not have a chance with the lady, but I shall give him that chance. The Duchesse de Beuvron was once to marry the Seigneur de Marisco. Now that she is widowed, she would like to regain his favor. I will see that she has a chance to plead her case tonight while you, Anjou, will lead Madame Burke to a secluded place to meet Navarre. She will not, of course, know she is meeting him. She will believe she is to see me, that I wish her to carry a personal message from me to Elizabeth Tudor when she returns to England."

"What if she plays on Navarre's sense of honor?" de Guise asked. "What then, madame?"

Catherine de Medici snorted. "Must I outline everything for you? Anjou, my secret study, you know it."

"The one with the bed in the alcove, Mother?"

"Yes! You will bring Madame Burke there. Drug her, or stun her with a light blow. Yes, perhaps that is better, for a drug might render her useless. Bind her hands, and see she is in a state of dishabille upon the bed. She has beautiful little breasts, and I note that Navarre is fascinated with them. One good look, and his gallantry will dissolve as his lust takes over." She chuckled richly. "Yes, one can depend upon Navarre's reactions when a beautiful woman is involved. Wait until after one o'clock before you lure Madame Burke away, Anjou. We want Navarre well occupied when the two o'clock tocsin sounds."


***

The final ball that night was a triumph that spilled out from the ballrooms of the Louvre Palace into its neat flower-filled gardens that bordered the River Seine. Except for Henri of Navarre's unwelcome and persistent attentions, Skye was enjoying her time in Paris immensely. Yet she decided that she preferred the Tudor court to this one. There was too much intrigue in the French court, whose inhabitants were a touch too chic and too wicked to suit her taste.

"I never thought," she said to Adam, "that I should say I preferred the English and their bluff, honest ways; but compared to the French, they are less complicated."

He chuckled down at her. "Do you think you damned impossible Irish will ever stop fighting us, sweetheart?"

She looked up at him, her sapphire eyes wide with innocence. "Why, Adam," she said sweetly. '"Tis not the Irish who are fighting the English, 'tis the English who are fighting the Irish."

"Not this Englishman," he murmured, bending low to brush her lips with his.

Skye's heart began to race wildly. He seemed to be having that effect on her these days. "Devil!" she whispered back at him. "If you don't stop your provocative behavior I shall certainly cause a scene."

"Mes enfants," Gaby said lightly. "I regret to intrude," and they broke apart laughing, "but the Queen has requested my son that you give audience to the Duchesse de Beuvron."

"Never, maman!" Adam's brows drew together in a frown.

"Adam, you cannot refuse Queen Catherine. Athenais is one of her favorites. I know that nothing the duchesse says can change how you feel, nor should it, but as the Queen has personally involved herself, you must give Athenais a fair hearing."

"Adam," Skye said softly, "how often have I wanted to refuse Elizabeth Tudor, and both you and Robbie have not let me. What is good for me must also be good for thee. Go and speak with the bitch. I do not mind."

"I suppose we cannot have Catherine de Medici angry at us, especially should we need her refuge from the Tudors. All right, sweetheart, I’ll go and let Athenais prattle at me for a while, and I promise, maman, not to wring her deceiving little neck!" He stomped away across the ballroom to where the Duchesse of Beuvron waited by Queen Catherine's side, smiling smugly.

"You are so very good for him, my dear," Gaby said softly. "I have not really seen my son happy in many years. You are the cause of that happiness, and I shall ever be grateful to you for it."

"It is not hard to make Adam happy, Gaby. I love him," she said quietly. "Had he not been so concerned for my welfare, and I not so concerned about everything else, we might have wed long ago. Now I will let nothing stop us."

"Madame Burke?"

The two women turned, and recognizing the Duc of Anjou, they both curtseyed low. "Your Highness."

He acknowledged their obeisance, and then said, "Madame Burke, my mother would like to speak with you privately if you will follow me, please."

"Queen Catherine wishes to see me? Forgive me, M'sieur le Duc, but I do not understand."

"I believe, madame, that my mother wishes you to carry a personal message back to England when you go; a message to your Queen. They have become quite friendly duc to the negotiations between our two families regarding the matter of a marriage between my brother Alençon and Elizabeth Tudor."