‘I could not see that my presence was particularly useful, in the circumstances.’
‘You fetched my guard a nasty injury, and then you ran away. Slipped out like a rat down a hole. This old fool is partly to blame for not keeping his eyes open.’ She nodded towards Ruggieri, who cringed and twisted his beard. ‘But those look to me like the actions of a guilty man.’
‘Guilty of what, Your Majesty?’
‘You tell me. A young woman died in my gardens. You were seen in the woods where her body was discovered. You knew she was found there. Then you escape before you can be questioned.’
‘But—’ I tried to stay calm, offer a logical defence – ‘I was here with you when she was found. She was still warm. And you decided she had taken her own life.’
‘Whereas you seemed most determined that she did not.’
‘I would hardly draw attention to that if I had killed her.’
‘Perhaps you were trying to be clever. You have a reputation for that, after all.’
We looked at one another. Before I could speak, she held up a hand to pre-empt me.
‘That was not why I brought you here. I mention it only to let you see that there would be grounds to have you arrested, if at some future time I should change my opinion about the manner of the girl’s death. I dislike having my orders disobeyed. Let it not happen in future. Have I made myself clear?’
I inclined my head. ‘Your Majesty.’
‘Good. Walk with me.’ She lifted an arm, Ruggieri lurched forward to help her laboriously to her feet. When she had stepped down from the dais, she extended her arm to me and told him to wait. We proceeded as before, at the same painful pace. ‘The King is indulging one of his black moods,’ she said, when we reached the gallery, in a tone devoid of sympathy. ‘He refuses all food and drink and will not speak to anyone. I fear he means to destroy himself. He is certainly wilful enough to try it.’
‘For love of Léonie?’
She stopped and turned her most withering expression on me. ‘Love. God in Heaven. Henri falls in love twice a week. It is not love you are about to witness, nor grief – it is the tantrum of a spoiled boy who did not get his own way. We have seen all this before, you know.’ She resumed her halting progress along the gallery. ‘He was obsessed with another woman, before he married Louise. He became determined to make her his wife, against all my counsel, never mind that she was entirely inappropriate, not to mention married to someone else. He intended to have her existing marriage annulled but she inconveniently died of a fever before he could arrange it.’ She gave a dry laugh. ‘He responded with the same conspicuous display of mourning. Ordered silver death’s heads embroidered all over his black suits. Refused to eat, scourged himself. The physicians had to hold him down and force food into him in the end.’
‘Have you tried that this time?’
‘Not yet. I hope it will not be necessary. It irks me to acknowledge this, as you may imagine, but he has always respected you. I am hoping you will talk some sense into him where we have failed. In the present climate, we simply cannot afford for the last Valois king to starve himself to death over a courtesan.’
‘If she was a courtesan, you made her one,’ I said. There was a long silence while her black raptor’s eyes bored into me. Men had been executed for less insolence, I reflected.
‘That little theory you voiced the other night,’ she said eventually, glancing back to the far doors where Ruggieri and the guards stood waiting, out of earshot. ‘I trust you have kept your word not to repeat it to anyone?’
‘That Léonie was with child?’ I thought of my conversation earlier with Gabrielle, the stunned astonishment with which she had greeted the idea. ‘No. Not a soul.’
‘Good. Keep it that way. Above all, do not breathe a word about it to Henri.’ Her nails dug into my arm. ‘If he ever gets wind of that notion, I will know where it came from and I swear before God, I will have you locked up on the instant.’
‘Was it his, then?’ I stared at her, as the ramifications began to multiply and expand in my head. All of Europe had drawn the conclusion that Henri was not capable of fathering a child. But what if he had managed it, just not with his wife? Even a bastard Valois was better than nothing; Catherine had enough lawyers and theologians in her pay to make the case for legitimising a son born outside marriage. Then I recalled the Comte de Saint-Fermin’s words to me the night before: how Guise had boasted that Léonie was going to put his bastard on the throne. The idea was extraordinary – had she been pregnant with Guise’s child and tried to pass it off as Henri’s?
‘Close your mouth,’ Catherine said tersely. ‘You were mistaken. Two physicians examined the girl and concluded there was no sign of pregnancy. I would not expect you to have any experience in judging such matters, but you should be very careful about voicing your opinions before they are substantiated. Now you must go to the King before any more time is wasted.’
I nodded and made a small bow. I was certain she was lying. She grasped my arm harder and pulled me close, her voice an urgent whisper.
‘One more thing, before you leave. My book. The one I bought from the English girl. Can you read it?’
‘I have not had the chance to try. Part of it is written in code.’
‘Why? What does it contain?’
I hesitated. ‘It is supposed to be the lost book of the Egyptian sage Hermes Trismegistus. There are scholars who believe it holds the secret of how to
