“I may get up from this sick bed, yes. But methinks I shall soon be back in it. I am worried about my daughter. I should like to see her Queen of France.”
“A match with Francois would be appropriate, Sire.”
“The Queen is against it.”
Georges looked at his master shrewdly. He saw the command in his eyes. It was the old cry of “Let Georges do it.” Georges d’Amboise must find a way in which a match between the heir presumptive to the throne of France and the King’s daughter should be made without delay.
Georges went away and considered the matter. The Queen was in Brittany. The affair should be concluded in her absence. Louis would have to answer to her when she returned and, as he hated to ignore her wishes, if one did not wish to displease the King there must be a very good reason.
Georges went back to his master.
“It is the will of the people,” he said, “that the Princess Claude should be betrothed to Francois.”
Once again, Georges had done it.
The two enemies watched the ceremony. Anne was sullen, but she knew there was nothing she could do to prevent it, because the people of Paris had sent a deputation to the King begging that their Princess be married to their Dauphin.
Louise was not, in truth, displeased, although determined to hide this fact from Anne. But she could not prevent her eyes shining with contentment as they rested on twelve-year-old Francois, so tall, so handsome, so bright-eyed, every glorious inch of him a Dauphin, and turned to poor sickly seven-year-old Claude who looked as though she would not live long enough to consummate the marriage.
Louis was well pleased. He did not suffer from the same envy as Anne did, and could not help eyeing the boy with satisfaction. It was good that a branch of the royal family could produce a boy so worthy in every way of his destiny.
The King recovered his health in some degree; but his physicians warned him that he must take care. He should eat frugally, always have his meat boiled, and retire early, making sure that he did not tax his strength in any way.
He consulted with Georges d’Amboise and they decided that, now Francois was the King’s prospective son-in- law as well as his heir, he should be at Court under the eye of the King.
De Gie had disgraced himself when Louis had been dangerously ill by presuming that the King was as good as dead. He had made an effort to seize control, that he might have charge of the young Dauphin and guide him in all matters.
Louis had understood the Marechal’s action and thought it not unwise in the circumstances. There was always danger to a country when a king died and his successor was a minor. But de Gie had attempted to restrain Anne of Brittany, and for that reason she insisted that he be punished.
Louis had to face his wife’s anger, and that was something he never cared to do. However he did save de Gie from execution, but the Marechal lost his post and was sent into exile.
This was another reason why Francois, deprived of his governor, should come to Court.
“It is not fitting,” said Anne, “that wherever the boy is his mother should be. He must learn to stand on his own feet.”
Louis agreed with her; and as a result Francois was summoned to Chinon where the Court was in residence.
When he had left, Louise was desolate.
“For the first time in our lives we are apart,” she wailed.
Jeanne reminded her that it was because her son was accepted as Dauphin that he must go to Court; and was that not what she wanted more than anything else?
“But how dismal it is without him. There is no joy left in the place.”
Francois was an immediate success at Court. The King could not help being amused by his high spirits, nor admiring his energy. In addition he was already witty, so that he found friends, not only among the sportsmen, but among those who were interested in ideas.
Although but a boy he was already drawing about him his own little court.
“That is as it should be,” said the tolerant Louis. “As the old King grows more infirm it is natural that men and women should turn to him who will next wear the crown.”
Anne transferred her hatred of the mother to the son.
“Brash! Conceited! Altogether too sure of himself and his future,” was her verdict.
“Louis,” she insisted, “we
The King was weary. He would have preferred to let matters rest; but Anne was indefatigable. She herself was as weak as he was; she had never recovered from the birth of her stillborn son, and had never ceased to look back with great bitterness on that event.
When Anne triumphantly announced that she was pregnant, this news brought little pleasure to anyone but herself. Louis was alarmed, because he was aware of her state of health and wondered whether she would survive another ordeal like the last. He was so much older than she was that he had always believed she would be with him to the end; and the thought of losing her now that he was so infirm depressed him. He wished that she could have accepted Francois as placidly as he did. As for Louise, she was beside herself with anxiety. She had lulled herself to a sense of security of late, because she had been certain that Anne could not produce a boy. Yet she was capable of becoming pregnant, and Louise recognized in the woman a spirit as indomitable as her own. Such women had a habit of getting their own way; and when two such were fighting each other, Fate could take a hand and give the victory to either.
Francois himself was now old enough to feel apprehension. Life at Court suited him well. He was the darling of his set; and he accepted their adulation as gracefully as he had accepted that of his mother and sister. Not only had he good looks and charm but he was the Dauphin—the most important man at Court next to the King, and the King was old and ailing.
He had discovered too what he believed from now on would be the greatest of all pleasures: making love to
