'These are my own people,' the queen answered him sharply.
'These persons are French, madame. You are England's queen, and should be served by good Englishmen and -women,' the king replied, his tone equally sharp.
'It was agreed,' Henrietta said, struggling to remain calm, 'that I should have the right to choose my own household, sir.'
'It was not agreed that they should
'The comtesse is a Protestant, sir,' the queen said. 'You cannot expect me to be served by a Protestant.'
'Marie, Your Majesty,' said Madame St. George, who had been the queen's governess, and now sought to turn the argument back to the original, and less volatile ground. 'If the queen's name, Henrietta, seems unsuitable for a queen of England, would not Marie, Mary, Queen Mary, be better? I know Your Majesty is not so petty that he would insist upon calling the queen by any other name but her own in private, but Queen Mary would be her official title,
'It seems a good compromise,' the king said, pleased to have gotten his way, and not wishing any further outburst from his wife, who nodded mutely in agreement.
The duke of Buckingham was equally pleased, but for a different reason. The English had long memories, and they had not forgotten Bloody Mary Tudor, the last Roman Catholic English queen who had persecuted the Protestants. She had not been popular, and neither would this Queen Mary be. He chuckled to himself, well pleased.
When parliament opened, the queen was not present, for her confessor, Bishop de Mende, had somehow gotten the idea that a Church of England religious ceremony was central to the occasion. The king was furious. The parliament was offended, and granted the king only a seventh of the monies he needed. He adjourned the session, and moved his household to Hampton Court, for the plague was still rife in London.
Buckingham continued to undermine the queen, advising her that her clothing was far too lavish, and unsuitable for an Englishwoman. Her hairstyle was too foreign. Her temper too quick. He advised her that she should be more amenable to her husband, or Charles would send her back to France. Then he attempted once again to gain a place in her household for not just his sister, but his wife, and his niece as well. The queen was outraged, and this time did complain to her husband. In response, Charles went hunting to avoid the uproar, and while he was gone, the countess of Denbigh held a public religious service in the royal household. The queen and her people interrupted it, not once, but twice, trekking through the hall chattering and laughing, their dogs in their wake, as if nothing unusual were taking place. Buckingham dutifully reported this to the king, making certain Charles's anger was well roused.
The king was indeed outraged, but not at Lady Denbigh for deliberately baiting the queen. His anger was directed solely at his wife, whom he decided to punish by sending her entire retinue of French back to Paris. Now Buckingham realized he had gone too far. He did not wish to be responsible for endangering the alliance between England and France, which this marriage represented.
In Paris, King Louis and his mother had heard of the discord between the recently married couple. They were not at all pleased, and decided to send an envoy to investigate. Buckingham quickly persuaded the king to allow the queen's household to remain for the time being.
The plague having finally subsided, the coronation was set for February second. At Glenkirk, James Leslie grumbled loudly at having to make the trek from the eastern highlands of Scotland down to London at the midpoint of the winter. The snows were deep. The trip would be cold, and take forever. They would have to leave immediately after Twelfth Night.
'I dinna intend taking all of you bairns,' he said to his assembled family.
'I am perfectly happy to remain home,' Fortune Lindley said.
'Henry, Charlie, and Patrick shall go, because the first two are English, and the last my heir,' the duke of Glenkirk said.
India held her breath, and threw a beseeching glance at her mother. Adrian Leigh had been permitted to correspond with her, and had kept her apprised of all the gossip, and the coronation plans.
'I think India should go, too,' Jasmine finally said.
'Why?' James Leslie demanded.
'Because she is Rowan's firstborn, and an English noblewoman of an old and respected family, who certainly should see her king crowned,' Jasmine said quietly. 'Besides, this is an excellent opportunity for us to look over the young men from suitable families. Many will be at the coronation who do not as a rule come to court. It is a wonderful chance for her. Besides, it will please me to have my daughter with me, Jemmie.'
'Verra well,' he said grudgingly, 'but I dinna want to see that fancy young viscount hanging about India.' He looked directly at his stepdaughter. 'He's nae for you, mistress. Do you understand me, India? I hae been patient allowing him to write to you once a month, but you will nae wed such a fellow. This time I would see other suitors at our door. Ye dinna hae your cousin, Rene, to hide behind any longer. Did you nae know I knew 'twas young Leigh who you were so anxious to be wi, and nae the chevalier?'
India bit back the quick retort on her lips, and hung her head in a contrite fashion. She would damn well do what she wanted to do, but she would wait to get to England before she made that announcement. 'Yes, Papa,' she said meekly, 'and thank you for allowing me to go.'
'And ye'll pick a husband, India,' James Leslie told his stepdaughter. 'Either down in England, or here in Scotland, lassie. You'll be eighteen this June, and you canna wait any longer.'
'Mama was only eighteen when I was born,' India noted.
'But she hae already hae two husbands,' he said. 'And, besides, it takes time to make a bairn and birth it.'
'I want to love the man I marry,' India told him.
'I'll nae force you to the altar, lassie.' James Leslie said, 'but you must be more tractable and practical in this matter.'
'I will try, Papa,' India promised him.
'What a little liar you are,' Fortune mocked her sister afterward when they were alone in their chamber. 'You want to marry Adrian Leigh, India. I know you do! And he would like to marry you, although I do not think he loves you. Just your wealth.'
'Of course he loves me,' India said angrily to her sister. 'He has told me so in his letters, Fortune.'
Fortune shook her head. 'I do not understand you, India. You have always been so careful where fortune hunters are concerned, yet now you become clay in the hands of this viscount. What is the matter with you?'
'You don't understand,' India began.
