Francois was in love. This was not an infrequent occurrence, but in this case the situation held a certain piquancy.
He loved her golden hair and her perfectly formed body; he loved her English accent; but what appealed to him more than anything was that latent fire which he sensed within her. When aroused she would be a passionate creature, and Francois longed to be the one to arouse her. The fact that she was recently married to the King brought such an element of danger into the relationship as to make it absolutely irresistible to one of Francois’s temperament.
He had received no greater blow to his hopes than when the King had married; he had even felt—rare for him —depressed. He needed some glorious adventure to give life a new zest. A love affair in itself would not have been enough—he had had so many of them already; but a love affair with the recently married Queen, which could place them both in jeopardy, would give life the excitement which at this time he greatly needed.
He was constantly at the Queen’s side. A little touch of the hand, a burning intensity in the eyes, the caressing note in his voice, the words which were full of a hidden meaning … surely they were enough to tell Mary the state of his feelings?
She pretended not to understand these indications; and he was sure it
He became angry if anyone else attempted to dance with her; he made it clear that, while the King was indisposed, it was the task and privilege of the Dauphin to entertain the Queen.
Mary was fully aware of his feelings, and she was grateful to him as she was finding these days at Abbeville so wretched on account of her longing for Charles; Francois’s attempt to involve her in an intrigue enlivened the days, particularly as she had no intention of becoming involved, while at the same time it was amusing not to let him know this.
She enjoyed showing wide-eyed innocence, as though his innuendoes passed over her head. She did not for one moment believe that the Dauphin’s feelings were deeply involved. They both needed excitement at this time; she because she was an unwilling bride; he because the marriage which had proved such a tragedy for her was one for him also. She could see that ambition was strong behind the insouciant manner and witty frivolity. Francois wanted to take revenge on Louis for marrying again, by making love to Louis’s wife.
Thus she was being caught up in an intrigue which amused her; and desperately she needed to be amused.
Louise sought out Marguerite. Louise was very apprehensive, and Marguerite mildly so.
“Marguerite,” cried Louise, “Francois is constantly with the Queen.”
“The King being indisposed, it is the place of the Dauphin to look after her.”
“I know my son well. He is becoming enamored of that English girl.”
“She is very beautiful,” Marguerite agreed.
“Have you considered what might come out of this?”
“Thoughts have entered my head.”
“Louis will never get a healthy son. But if those two were lovers … why, Marguerite, can you doubt what the result would be? It would be inevitable. And she would pass it off as Louis’s.”
“You mean your grandson and my nephew would take the throne from his father.”
“Unacknowledged! It would be a tragedy.”
“Maman, this is wildest imagination.”
“It could be fact. Admit it, Marguerite. Francois, bless him, is virile, as he should be. He is in love with the Queen, and can you doubt the Queen’s feelings for him! She pretends that she is unmoved. My dear Marguerite, could any woman remain unmoved by Francois? I tell you our beloved is in danger of losing the throne … not through Louis—poor impotent old man … but by his own actions.”
“Our Francois is no fool, Maman.”
“He is brilliant, I grant you. His wit sparkles and makes the Court a gay place. But his emotions are strong, as is natural in all young men. Let the Queen succumb … and how can she help it? … and we shall be hearing that she is pregnant. Louis, the old fool, will be beside himself with glee and within a year there will be a little dauphin in the royal nurseries. I tell you we are in danger … the utmost danger.”
“What do you propose to do, Maman? Point out the danger to Francois?”
“Francois has realized the danger. He must have. Do you remember how he always courted danger? He is daring—and I would not have him otherwise—but daring in this case could be fatal to his future. I remember the time when as a boy he let a bull loose in the courtyards of Amboise. He himself slew it … but he was risking his life and knew it. He loves risks. They are the salt of life to him. And now he is ready to take this one. I see it in his face. I know my Francois.”
“Maman, should we speak to him?”
“I am uncertain, daughter. He is no longer a boy. I know that he likes to make his own decisions and, although he would listen to us courteously as he always has, yet by pointing out the hazards we might increase the enchantment.”
“We must watch this affair closely,” Marguerite murmured.
“And you are near the Queen. You must take an opportunity of pointing out the dangers to her.”
Marguerite was thoughtful. But there was no denying that she was as anxious as her mother.
Mary had been riding and as she went up to her apartment Marguerite intimated that she wished to be alone with her, and the other attendants were dismissed.
“My poor little sister-in-law is not very happy,” Marguerite began. “It is sad for her that she is so different from my brother. They are not well matched. Do you agree, Madame?”
“They are not alike in temperament, but I have heard that people of different types are often attracted to each
