Mary was no longer weary; and none who had not witnessed the day’s pageantry would have guessed that she had been the center of it; she was gay, fresh and sparkling.
Many people watching her said to themselves: “The Queen is in love.” And because the Dauphin was never far from her side, because he too was unable to hide his feelings, it was whispered that a delicate
“Watch the Dauphin and the Queen!” was the whisper that passed round the hall.
Death of a King
A HIGH STAGE had been erected in the park of the Hotel des Tournelles and on this had been put a couch, for the King’s gout was troubling him again and he was too indisposed to be able to sit in one position for long at a time. Yet he must be present on this occasion, because the English had come over specially to test their skill in the joust against the French champions, and already the excited people of Paris were crowding into the Rue St. Antoine which adjoined the Park of Les Tournelles where the lists had been set up.
The noise was great as people wagered as to who would be the victor. The fame of the English Duke of Suffolk had been discussed and it was believed that he would challenge the Dauphin himself.
The people were jubilantly sure of the outcome for they did not believe there was an Englishman living who could rival the Dauphin.
The sound of trumpets announced the arrival of the royal party, and the King, looking very ill, mounted the stage with great difficulty. It was pleasing to see how solicitous the lovely young Queen could be with her husband. She was attended by the most noble of the ladies; and what a contrast she made with poor insignificant Claude. Marguerite, the Dauphin’s sister, was a real beauty, but it was the Queen with her wonderful golden hair and bright complexion who attracted the attention of everyone.
Louis lay on his couch smiling rather wanly as he acknowledged the acclaim of his people. The more sober ones were depressed by the sick looks of the Father of his People, reminding themselves that he had been a good King to them and life in France had been the better for his rule. The young ones, though, could not take their eyes from Francois, who was every man’s ideal.
Some studied the Queen’s trim yet voluptuous figure. It was too early yet to show any signs of pregnancy, but it was possible that she was in that state. Then the dazzling Francois would never reach the throne. It was an intriguing situation; and because of it the people’s interest in the royal family was even greater than usual.
Louis wanted to close his eyes. The shouting of the people, the blare of the trumpets tired him. What would he not have given for the quiet apartment, the hangings shutting out the light, the comfort of his bed … sleep.
But he must be present on this occasion; so he took pleasure in watching the excitement of his Queen.
He had come to believe that there was much he had to learn of her. He did not really know his Mary. She had been shy and shrinking as one must expect a virgin to be and she had remained so. He had thought that in time he might rouse her to passion for he sensed passion in her, latent, unawakened. Yet recently he had been aware of a change in her. There had been a suppressed excitement and she had seemed a different girl from the one he had known in the first days of their marriage.
He was not unaware of Francois’s greedy eyes which rested too frequently on her. Could it be? He could not be surprised if it were, nor could he blame Mary. He knew Francois’s reputation. But Francois would not be so foolish. The Big Boy might philander when and wherever he had a chance, but he would not be such a fool as to engage in a love affair with the Queen.
And yet … there had been that change.
Now the English party were riding into the arena, led by their champions, the Duke of Suffolk and the Marquis of Dorset. Suffolk was a fine figure of a man—as tall as Francois and broader. To see those two together would be worth a little discomfort.
The Queen had clasped her hands and was watching the riders who bowed on their horses as they passed the royal gallery, the plumes in their helmets touching their horses’ heads as they did so.
Her gaze was on the Duke of Suffolk; the King noticed how her eyes followed him round the arena.
Now it was the turn of the French who had been challenged, and they rode in, led by the Dauphin.
To be as young as that! thought Louis. To hear the applause of the people in one’s ears and to know it was because one was young and strong, a dashing, reckless hero. Francois doubtless had his trials to come, but Louis would have given a great deal to be the man in that glittering armor on that day.
And the Queen; she was applauded with the rest. It was strange that her eyes did not follow the French knights as they did the English.
She is hoping that her own countrymen are going to win the championship, thought Louis indulgently. It is natural.
Yet if she were attracted by Francois she must admire him more than ever in such a role as he now played.
Unless of course she was being cautious. But one did not connect caution with Mary.
She is young and innocent, he thought. She is unaware of Francois and, like a child, she wants her own countrymen to win.
Loudly the crowd applauded. They had to concede that the English were very skillful and even Francois could not quite match the tall Englishman who jousted as though he were inspired.
The Queen sat forward watching, the color in her cheeks heightened.
Of all the pageants I have had arranged for her, thought Louis, whose eyes rarely left her, none has pleased as this has.
She caught her breath with the thrill of the joust; once, when it seemed the tall Englishman was about to be thrown from his horse, she shut her eyes and shuddered. But all was well; it was only a feint and the man was once more victorious.
