‘I think he would want to be told if his mother was practising against him.’
‘Do you really?’ He let his arm fall to his side and crossed the room to pour another drink. ‘You know Henri by now, Bruno. He is a weak man, governed by lust and fear in equal measure. He could not survive without Catherine, and he knows it. He may rail against her, but in the end he will accept her rule, whatever it involves. If you try to set him against her you will only succeed in losing everyone’s favour, and you cannot afford that. Ask yourself – can you?’
‘But he set me to find a murderer,’ I insisted, hearing myself sound like a petulant child.
‘And you almost did. You uncovered a conspiracy that, unfortunately, you can do nothing about. Now let it go. Your friends have suffered enough for your meddling already.’
‘What do you mean? Are you in trouble?’ His tone sent a prickle of anxiety up my spine; I thought of Cotin, sentenced to solitary confinement because of me.
‘I’m talking about the Gelosi,’ he said, grimly, sitting down at his desk and closing the Aquinas book with a decisive thud. ‘I have only just heard that they are being held at the Hotel de Montpensier because apparently one of their number is accused of theft and spying. They managed to slip a message out with a servant. They are supposed to leave for Lyon tomorrow, but the Duchess refuses to release them until this man returns and hands himself in with the stolen goods.’ He gave me a meaningful look from beneath lowered brows.
‘Merda.’ I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. ‘I didn’t think she would imprison them. I should go there now.’
Jacopo shook his head. ‘That would be extremely unwise. I am about to write to Catherine asking her to intervene with the Duke of Montpensier, but there is not much I can do without her approval. It will require a show of force, I suspect. Our friends will be all right – I don’t suppose the Duchess would dare to harm them. But this would not have occurred if you had listened to me sooner, Bruno.’ He spoke gently but firmly, a father to a wayward boy. I nodded. A wave of tiredness crashed over me and I buried my face in my hands again.
‘Why don’t you stay here tonight?’ Jacopo said, picking up his quill. ‘You don’t want to go out in that again. Get some rest and you can find your way home in the morning.’
I stood, watching him sharpen his nib for a moment before my eyes focused clearly on what he was doing.
‘May I see your penknife?’ I asked.
He glanced up, surprised, but held it out to me. I reached inside my doublet and took out the one I had been carrying around since my visit to the silversmith’s that morning. They were almost identical.
‘Where did you get this?’ I asked.
‘A gift from Catherine, years ago now. They were made by a master silversmith under her patronage back in Florence, I believe. The work is quite distinctive. She has given them to some in her service as a mark of favour. They are worth a bit by now. Where did you find that one?’
‘By Joseph de Chartres’s body.’
He eyed the knives as I handed his back. ‘I mean it, Bruno. Let it go. For everyone’s sake. And any time you wish to apologise for accusing me of conniving at murder, I will be glad to accept it,’ he added, with an edge to his voice, returning his attention to the paper before him.
I lowered my eyes. ‘Forgive me, Jacopo. I spoke in haste.’
He nodded, mollified, and the conversation appeared to be at an end. But you are conniving at murder, I thought, tucking the penknife away in my pocket. And so am I, if I agree to leave this business unfinished.
I took a bed in one of the guest rooms as Jacopo had suggested, but I could not sleep. Thoughts of Queen Louise, Paul, Léonie and the Gelosi tumbled through my mind as I lay there in my clothes, staring at the ceiling while my candle burned lower and listening to the sounds of the household preparing to turn in for the night, until silence settled over the house. From a nearby street I heard church bells tolling twelve. I rose as quietly as possible, pulled Gabrielle’s cloak around my shoulders and tiptoed to the door. When I was certain no one was stirring, I crept downstairs and found my boots in the hallway. I could not let Francesco and Isabella and their friends remain incarcerated and lose their livelihood because of my recklessness when it was me that Guise wanted. Privately I thought Jacopo over-optimistic in his assertion that the Duchess of Montpensier would not harm them; the rule of law had deteriorated so far in Paris that the Guises seemed to believe they were no longer subject to it. I doubted Catherine would make the players a priority while she was preoccupied with the King’s health, but Jacopo was right that it would be folly to hand myself over to Guise or his sister alone. That left me with only one possible avenue. I would have to
