All the Sweet Tomorrows

arranged to have him educated, the Lord only knows how, and were it not for his lack of money he might have had a brilliant career at court. As it is, he lives alone in his tumble-down castle, helping his peasants to scratch a bare living from his small estate. Both his grandfather and mother are long dead. He has no wife, as he cannot afford one, and he has not the means to go to court and catch himself a wealthy widow who would marry him for his handsome face.'

'He must be sent for,' Skye said quietly. 'There is no other choice. Under the circumstances, I do not understand why Fabron did not make him his heir long ago.'

'Madame,' the priest said, 'the duc is a rigid man. To his way of thinking, his half-brother was a bastard, a creature of no account. The fact that Nicolas St. Adrian lives in Poitou made it easier to enforce that idea within his own mind. I suspect he resented his half-brother. Duc Giles was frequently heard to bemoan Nicolas's loss, for he had frequent reports, through a friend, of the boy's progress, and Nicolas was everything he really wanted in a son. God's justice is often fitting, but how hard it must have been on Fabron to hear that. Duc Giles's attitude did not bother Edmond's father, Gabriel, but it did bother Fabron. He was a sensitive boy, although he hid it well.'

'I will speak to my husband,' Skye said. 'You do see that we have no choice in this, mon pere? It is either Nicolas St. Adrian or France.'

The priest nodded. 'Nonetheless the final decision must rest with the duc.'

'Very well,' Skye said, and together she and Pere Henri made their way to the duc's bedchamber.

Fabron de Beaumont lay pale, his dark eyes closed, tucked carefully into his own dark-red-velvet-draped bed. The white linen sheets with their embroidered lace borders were folded neatly back over the light wool coverlet. He was clean and fresh, for Skye had insisted that he be kept that way. Hearing them enter the room, he opened his eyes, and at the sight of Skye they filled with undisguised love. Since his return to consciousness he had shown puppylike devotion to her, and she had been unable to deny him her affection, an affection for which he was obviously and childishly grateful.

She bent and kissed him. 'Good afternoon, mon mari. Pere Henri and I have come to discuss something with you that is of great importance to your family.'

He nodded, and gestured with a weak arm that she sit by his side, which Skye did. Pere Henri stood by her in the duc's view.

'Fabron, the French want the duchy,' Skye said quietly.

His dark eyes flashed, and he made frustrated noises in the back of his throat.

She put a gentling hand on his arm. 'I know,' she said. 'It must not happen, and if it is at all possible we will prevent it, but we need your permission.' He nodded, and she continued, 'I am not with child, and it is very likely now that you will never be able to give me a child. I need not discuss Garnier with you. His problem is obvious, and poor Edmond is unsuitable. You have only one choice-your half-brother, Nicolas St. Adrian.'

Fabron de Beaumont's eyes flashed angrily, and he shook his head vehemently in the negative, but Skye was not deterred.

'You have no alternative, Fabron,' she said patiently. 'You either turn the duchy over to your half-brother, or you turn it over to the French. In these last days while you have been ill I have spent much time reading the history of your family. It is a proud history, a noble and a very long history. Beaumont de Jaspre has been in existence and ruled by your family since 770. Nicolas St. Adrian is, for all the circumstances of his birth, a de Beaumont. He cannot be blamed for the plain fact that your father, a married man, seduced his young and inexperienced mother. Emilie St. Adrian was of good family, as good as your own.

'I cannot fight the French, Fabron. Despite the fact that Queen Elizabeth sent me to you as a bride, there will be no help from England. You and I both know that I was sent in exchange for your opening your ports to English vessels. It was a marriage of convenience. Had I your child, or the hope of your child, I should fight the French with my last breath, but if you do not name your half-brother your heir, and ask him to come to you immediately, the French will have your lands before the year is out. That is the plain truth, and Pere Henri will tell you I do not exaggerate. He was with me and Edmond when we were forced to listen to the arrogant demands of the French envoy. We have detained that envoy until Nicolas St. Adrian can reach us. He is our only hope, Fabron. You must agree!

'If you do not you will put us all at the mercy of France- myself, your unfortunate son, and Edmond. What will happen to me, Fabron, if a French overlord arrives? Who will care for poor little Garnier? Will Edmond be forced to make his own way? As what? Perhaps both he and Garnier can find employment with a traveling fair. My beauty will, of course, guarantee me a protector, and perhaps I can take care of them. Unless, of course, my protector is jealous or not generous enough to support the others.'

'Ma fille!' chided a shocked Pere Henri, 'you are too harsh.'

'No, mon pere, I am truthful. You look at me and see a beautiful woman, but you do not know that fate has often dealt harshly with me, and I have survived because I look at life honestly. I have never fooled myself, and I will not fool my husband. We are lost if he cannot overcome his stubborn pride, and agree to make his half-brother his heir.' She reached out and gently smoothed the duc's brow. 'I am sorry, Fabron,' she said, 'but you must agree, and despite the weakness in your hand you must sign the document making Baron St. Adrian your heir.'

He sighed deeply, and she could swear that she saw tears lurking deep within his dark eyes, but then he nodded resignedly.

'You agree?' The priest leaned forward, and said, “You will agree to allow your half-brother, Nicolas St. Adrian, to come to Beaumont de Jaspre as your heir?'

Fabron de Beaumont nodded his head decisively in the affirmative.

'Very well, my son,' he said. 'I will send for Nicolas St. Adrian as soon as I can have the scribe draw up the papers. It will be immediately!'

Fabron de Beaumont sighed again, and his sad, dark eyes closed wearily. Skye arose, and kissing him gently once more, she stole from the room with Pere Henri.

'You must send one of your priests,' she said thoughtfully. 'I do not think the French will suspect that we send to the bastard line of the family for aid, but it is wise never to underestimate one's enemy. If Edmond should go, his absence would be noted.

*We must send to the Pope also. Catherine de Medici is a devout woman for all she is an ambitious one, and her son will listen to her. The French have too much trouble in the west now to argue with the Pope. If the Holy Father will confirm Nicolas St. Adrian's rights to the duchy of Beaumont de Jaspre then France dare not dispute the claim, and Beaumont de Jaspre is safe. Be sure our messenger to Rome carries rich gifts. I will send him in my own ship with Captain Kelly.'

'Madame,' Pere Henri said, his tone suddenly a very respectful one, 'I am astounded at your foresight.'

Skye laughed. 'I play the game well, mon pere, do I not?' she said. 'You cannot live at a Tudor court and survive without learning to be the perfect courtier. No one ever expects a woman to be responsible, but I have had the responsibility for not only myself and my children, but for vast estates and several great fortunes, beginning when I was sixteen. It is simply a matter of organization.'

'No,' the priest said quietly. 'Not all women could do what you do, madame.'

Skye laughed again. 'I am not like all women,' she said.

Before nightfall the messenger had been dispatched to the Pope in Rome, sailing aboard Seagull in Captain Kelly's care. He carried with him a letter from Madame la Duchesse de Beaumont de Jaspre, and one from Pere Henri. He would also bring to the prelate in Rome a pair of magnificent golden candlesticks adorned with silver gilt vines and leaves and enameled pink and white flowers. The base of each candlestick was studded with rubies and diamonds. Skye smiled to herself as she personally packed these treasures in red velvet cloth bags, and then into a carved ivory box. The Dowager Queen of France was in her heart a merchant's daughter, and known for her parsimony. If Catherine de Medici thought to present her own case to the Holy Father, she would not send anything to compare with Skye's gift to the papacy.

The following morning the other messenger, this one a young priest from a wealthy Beaumont family who knew