‘Oh. This is an unexpected pleasure,’ I said, hoping to sound sincere.
She offered a charming smile, which looked equally unconvincing, and kissed me awkwardly on both cheeks.
‘Catherine wants to see you.’
‘Is that an invitation or a summons?’
She arched an eyebrow to indicate that this was a foolish question.
‘I was expecting her to send armed guards for me.’
‘Oh, she will do that if you don’t come willingly.’ She nodded at the closed door. ‘Can we go inside for a minute?’
I hesitated. I knew I had hidden away anything incriminating – I always did before leaving the house, as a precaution – but I did not trust her and the idea of allowing her inside my private rooms made me feel oddly vulnerable. Perhaps that was also because I did not wholly trust myself to resist her.
But I unlocked the door and let her step inside, closing it behind us. She dropped on to my bed and sat with her head in her hands. I hovered by the door, disconcerted; I had half expected her to pounce on me as soon as we were alone. I had not anticipated this complete deflation.
‘Why does she want to see me?’ I asked, more sharply than I had intended. ‘Did you tell her I had asked questions about Circe?’
‘What?’ She peeled her hands away from her face and stared up at me. She looked pinched and worn, her eyes bruised with sleeplessness; she appeared to be fighting to keep her mouth from trembling. ‘I told her nothing, Bruno.’
‘You told her I was at the ball. She sent soldiers to find me shortly after I spoke to you.’
‘That was not my doing, I swear.’ Her eyes widened in distress. I watched her with caution; I could not discount the possibility that this was all an act.
‘Oh God. We are all so afraid,’ she whispered, bunching her hand into a fist and pressing it against her mouth.
‘Of what?’
‘What happened to Léonie. In case it should happen to any more of us.’
‘Why would you fear that? What do you think happened to her?’ I crossed the room to sit beside her, softening my voice. If she were telling the truth, it may be that she knew something, though I was still wary of being manipulated.
‘I don’t know. But none of us – in the Flying Squadron, I mean – believe that she took her own life.’
‘That is still Catherine’s view?’
She nodded, pressing her lips together as if she were fighting back tears. ‘So she says. I think she’s trying to avoid any gossip. But we talk among ourselves – we all fear that someone killed Léonie as a way of getting to Catherine. As a warning, you see. We fear that he may pick off more of us if she fails to heed it. We’re so scared, Bruno.’ Her voice quavered and she reached out a hand for me, turning to bury her face in my shoulder. Tentatively, I put my free arm around her.
‘Who do you suspect would do something like that?’ I asked, into her hair.
She drew her head back and looked at me with blank, miserable eyes. ‘Any of her enemies might.’
‘But – forgive me – aren’t you all sleeping with her enemies?’
‘That’s what makes it so frightening,’ she said. ‘We don’t know who to fear.’
‘Who was Léonie sleeping with?’ I asked. Her gaze sharpened.
‘You don’t know?’
‘I’m asking you.’
Her shoulders slumped. ‘I suppose it hardly matters now. It was an open secret, anyway. The King had taken her for a mistress. I expect he fancied the novelty, with the Duke d’Epernon away at war,’ she added, in a waspish tone that belied her mask of trembling anxiety.
‘But did she have someone else? You can hardly suppose the King would kill her to spite his mother?’
She frowned. ‘No – I didn’t mean…’ She stopped, rubbed her eyes, tried again. ‘We hadn’t seen much of her lately – Catherine sent her to serve in Queen Louise’s household about a month ago, so I only saw her again when we were rehearsing the Masque of Circe for the ball. Léonie wasn’t one to talk much about her business. We have all had to learn the art of discretion, but most of us have one or two close confidantes among the group – you’d go mad if you didn’t, the things we have to endure.’ She grimaced, then her mouth contorted with embarrassment. ‘Not you, obviously. But some of the others.’
‘I hope I wasn’t too much of a trial for you. But you were talking about Léonie?’
She flashed me a soft smile, tracing her finger in a light circle over the inside of my wrist. ‘She didn’t seem to talk to anyone. She was always quite aloof. She had perfected discretion – I suppose that’s why Catherine favoured her.’
‘Did you think she was pregnant?’
‘What?’ She dropped my hand and sprang away from me, her face frozen in amazement. ‘No – are you sure? The King’s, you mean?’
‘I only wondered if it was a possibility.’
‘It’s always a possibility with us,’ she said frankly. ‘I had not noticed anything with Léonie, and we all have sharp eyes for the signs by now. But then, we were not living with her day to day, as I told you. Poor girl, if she was. Seems worse somehow, doesn’t it? Taking two lives, I mean.’ She cupped her hand over her mouth.
‘What about Guise? Was Léonie his mistress too?’
‘Oh, we have all had a go at Guise one time or another. Catherine keeps trying. She persists in the belief that there is one divinely gifted woman who will find his weak spot, while he uses each of us as he pleases – which is no pleasure for the girl, believe me – and laughs at his own cleverness. She sent Léonie to him years ago, when
