‘There, you see,’ he said, ‘we cannot be bad friends. You betray me and I forgive you. Why, I even forgive you for spoiling the set of my hair which, although not elegant like that of your brothers, or softly curling like that of one whom it would be provincial, boorish, coarse and crude to mention at this point . . .’

She gave him a stinging blow on his cheek, which delighted him.

‘Oh, Margot,’ he cried, catching her by the arms suddenly and holding her so tightly that she cried out, ‘I almost wish that I had not this visitor coming to me tonight, for I find you extremely attractive in this fighting mood.’

He released her and she stood up, for she had heard a movement in his closet.

‘Who is there?’ she asked.

‘No one,’ he answered; and turning to look at him she believed that he was as surprised and startled by that sound as she was. There followed immediately a light tap on the door of the closet.

‘May I come in?’ said a voice which both of them recognized.

‘This is my visitor,’ said Navarre. ‘I did not expect her to have secreted herself in my closet. She must have had a key to come in that way, no doubt from your mother. Come in!’ he called.

Margot stepped back so that the curtains of the bed hid her.

Charlotte de Sauves walked to the bed. She was holding a key. ‘I managed to acquire a key to the small chamber,’ she said. ‘It seemed better to come in that way.’

Navarre said: ‘Her Majesty is most helpful, and so generous with her personal keys. But, my dear, it matters not how you come, as long as you come.’

Margot stepped out, and Charlotte stared at her in dismay.

‘Do not be afraid of me, Madame de Sauves,’ said Margot. ‘I was just about to leave.’

Charlotte looked from the husband to the wife. ‘I . . . I did not know that Your Majesty would be here . . . If I had . . .’

Margot waved a hand. ‘You must obey the royal command, must you not?’ she said; and she threw a contemptuous glance at Navarre, which implied that she despised him since, know- ing this woman was her mother’s spy, he could yet receive her. ‘I was just about to go,’ she added. ‘I wish you joy, Madame. A very goodnight to you both.’

‘And a very goodnight to you, my dear wife,’ said Navarre, smiling at her cynically. Margot walked out, aware that he scarcely waited for her to reach the door before pulling Charlotte down beside him.

Margot was angry. One did not expect a husband to be faith. ful; but one expected a certain show of good manners.

She was bored; the monotony of her life was more than she could endure. She decided that, for the want of something better to do, she would go and make her peace with her brother; for he, like her husband, would be annoyed with her, and lacking the humour of Navarre, would not be so inclined to find humour in the situation.

She went into his apartments, and the King’s Guards made way for her. In an ante-chamber, a tall slim young man was sitting, and as Margot approached he leaped to his feet and bowed low.

Margot smiled at him charmingly, for she noticed immediately that he was an exceptionally handsome young man, and it was obvious from his expression that he was as impressed by her charms as she was by his. Indeed, this kind of adoration was just what Margot needed most at this moment. She was at once enchanted by this young man.

She studied him closely. He was, she guessed, in his mid-twenties, a few years older than herself; his hair was dark and he wore it long and curling; his eyes were a deep shade of blue, and Margot found the contrast of eyes and hair striking. His moustache could not hide the sensitive lips, and if his expression was one of melancholy, although somewhat relieved by his delight in looking at her, it was such a contrast to the crude boisterousness of the man she had just left, that it was enchanting. Bowing, he had placed a white hand on his velvet doublet which was a deep shade of blue that matched his eyes and was decorated with black jet.

‘I do not know you, Monsieur?’ she said.

His voice was low and melodious. ‘There, Madame, I have the advantage of Your Majesty.’

‘So you are in no doubt as to my identity?’

‘Madame, who does not know the Queen of Navarre?’ ‘You must have seen me when I have not seen you.’

‘Yes, Madame; and, having seen you, could never banish your image from my mind.’

Margot was excited. ‘And, Monsieur, why should there be need for such banishment?’

His melancholy eyes, of such a startling blue, supplied the answer she expected, and his lips endorsed it. ‘That, Madame, I could not tell you. I beg of you not to embarrass me by commanding me to answer.’

‘I see you are in my brother’s service. I should therefore have no power to command you.’

‘Madame, any request of yours would be a command.’

She smiled. ‘You are from Provence,’ she said. ‘I realize that, for you have the soft speech. But you have learned to flatter like a Parisian.’

‘You are mistaken, Madame. There was no flattery.’

‘What is your name?’ asked Margot.

‘La Mole, Madame.’

‘La Mole? Just that . . . nothing more?’

‘Count Boniface de la Mole, Madame, at your service.’

‘You mean at the service of the Duke of Alençon?’

‘If I could find some means of serving his sister, I should be completely happy.’

‘Well, you may do so at once. I wish to see my brother.’

‘He is engaged at the moment, Madame, and is likely to be for some hours.’

‘It would seem that he is gallantly engaged.’

‘That is so, Madame.’

‘In that case I shall not disturb him. It would go ill with you if you interrupted him merely to tell him his sister wished to see him.’

‘Madame,’ he said, bowing and laying his hand on the hilt of his sword, ‘if you were to command me, I would willingly face death.’

She laughed lightly. ‘Nay, Monsieur le Comte, I would not have you face death. I think I should find you more amusing alive than dead.’

She extended her hand for him to kiss; he did this with a mingling of reverence and passion which delighted Margot. ‘Adieu, Monsieur.’

‘You will think me bold, Madame, but I will say what is in my heart. Au revoir, Madame. I shall live for our next meeting.’

Margot turned and left the chamber. She was smiling, for she had ceased to be bored.


* * *

Catherine summoned Charlotte de Sauves to her presence. ‘Well, Charlotte, I trust Navarre pleased you?’

Charlotte was silent.

‘You must not mind,’ said Catherine softly, ‘that I witnessed your grief yesterday. I thought how sad you looked when you left me, so I followed. Never try to lock your door against your Queen, Charlotte. It is useless. I do not like to see you looking so sad. I hope you were not sad when with Navarre. Poor man! He has waited so long. I should not have wished him to be disappointed.’

‘Madame,’ said Charlotte, ‘I have done what you commanded.’

‘That is well. I trust there was not too great a quarrel with Monsieur de Guise? However, it will do that young man good to learn that he is only about half as important as he imagines himself to be. You see, Charlotte, my dear, when you joined the Escadron, you agreed, did you not, to put aside all sentimentality. But let us not go into that. You have done well with Navarre. I do not wish your love affair with him to progress too rapidly. Navarre must not expect you to give all your spare time to him. There are others on whom you must bestow your smiles.’

Charlotte waited apprehensively.

‘I was not referring to Monsieur de Guise. If you patch up your quarrel with him, he must be made to understand that he can only gladden your leisure hours. You have serious work to do, and this does not include dalliance with the charming Duke. No, Charlotte! For there is another who needs your attention. I refer to my little son—my youngest, poor little Alençon.’

‘But, Madame, he has never looked my way.’

‘Whose fault is that? None but your own. He is susceptible to female beauty. You have only to smile on him a little, to flatter him a good deal, and he will be your slave.’

‘I am not sure, Madame. He is deeply enamoured of . . .’

‘Never mind of whom. I’ll wager that within a few days he will be deeply enamoured of Charlotte de Sauves if that lady intends to make him so. I expect to hear in a very short time that the King of Navarre and the Duke of Alençon have fallen out because they have both fallen into love with the same lady, and she is distributing her favours equally between them to keep the quarrel warm.’

‘Madame, this is a difficult task . . .’

‘Nonsense! It will be easy for you. You already have Navarre at your feet. Alençon . . . that one is a simple matter. I expect results, and I know that you are too wise a woman to disappoint me. Go now.’

When she was alone Catherine smiled to herself. Intrigue, as well as being stimulating. was often amusing if one had the right sort of humour to appreciate that fact. Monsieur de Guise had rather arrogantly suggested that she should have a wedge driven between Alençon and Navarre; he had almost dared to give an order to the Queen Mother. She had found it necessary to follow that suggestion, but Monsieur de Guise should not be allowed to come out of this matter without some discomfiture. As soon as Alençon began to hanker after Charlotte, and when he and Navarre began to regard each other with jealousy and suspicion, Guise would realize that she had used his mistress as that ‘wedge’. It was very amusing, but she doubted whether Guise would enjoy the joke; he had not the humour of young Navarre.