King Henry, her father, was at one of his smaller palaces in the forest of Compiegne when word was brought him that the Spanish embassy would arrive in Paris early in June (1559) to discuss the betrothal. That allowed only about seven weeks in which to make the vast preparations for the occasion, and Henry set off for Paris at once. Here was a marriage he very much wanted: his favorite daughter to become the bride of the mighty monarch, Philip of Spain. Catherine was overjoyed; she had promised herself that only the best match in the world would do for her beloved Elizabeth. In Philip of Spain she had her answer, and it was with a full heart that she sent for the Princess,
Elizabeth was deep in her Latin grammar when the Queen's page entered the room. The venerable Abb£ de Saint-fitienne sat beside her, watching as she translated the Psalm of her choice, and for a moment he did not realize why his pupil had stopped short in the middle of the line she was reading. Then he looked up and recognized the livery of the Queen's page and sensed the importance of the interruption.
"Yes, my son?"
"Her Majesty, the Queen, would see Madame Elizabeth in the audience chamber/' the boy said. "Her Highness is to come at once/'
He was a blond, ruddy-faced youth and his glance, in spite of his training, touched appreciatively the serene beauty of the girl seated at the table. She was just fourteen, slender, exquisite. Her black hair, tinted a rich gold in conformity with Court custom, was a perfect foil for her dark eyes under delicately penciled brows and for her fair, almost transparent skin. She laid an ivory bookmark between the pages of her Psalter and rose, putting her hand on the Abbe's sleeve.
"Come with me, please, Father/' she said, "as far as the audience chamber only, if you wish/' She suspected what the Queen's summons meant and her hands were suddenly cold.
The Abbe left her at the threshold of the audience chamber and she crossed to her mother's side as she had so often seen others do, commanded there by the will of the indomitable woman she loved and feared. Above the noisy pounding of her heart she was conscious of words being spoken while Catherine smiled at her, holding her hand. As though hypnotized, she stared at a medallion of blue enamel set with pearls and hung from a fine gold chain against the bodice of the Queen's gown. She knew something, some acknowledgment was expected of her but her throat was constricted, her mouth dry, and no words would come.
The Queen's fingers tightened around hers and she repeated a question, speaking Italian as she always did when
under stress. "You do understand, Elizabeth, what an exalted position yours will be as Queen of Spain?"
By a final effort Elizabeth managed to steady her voice and her lips sufficiently to answer, "Yes, Your Grace, I understand." She dared not add that everything within her rebelled, that she shrank in paralyzing terror from marriage with a man nineteen years older than she, a man noted for his cruelty, but she could only repeat, "Yes, I do understand."
Chapter 4 TWO BRIDES
THE Queen DaupLiness was enjoying her honeymoon in France among people who made much of her and with a young husband who adored her. Beside Francis she rode along the bridle paths winding through the forest of Blois; from beautiful Diane de Poitiers, with whom she became great friends, she learned the difficult art of tapestry-inaldng; she learned to dance the French dances and to sit straight and firm in the saddle when hunting* (Francis I doubtless would have seen in her a candidate for his "Little Band/*) With unchildlike self-possession she listened without comment when told how four Scottish nobles whom she knew well had been poisoned for refusing to consent to the Dauphin's being made King of Scotland. What Mary Stuart did not understand she refused to dwell upon, though one thing did bother her and for that very reason: she could not fathom
its cause.
Her mother-in-law did not like her and did not disguise the fact. True, Mary recalled having been very rude to the Queen once, but as the Lady Diane so kindly pointed out, that had been forgiven long ago. Majesty never held a grudge, said she. But then, the Queen Dauphiness wondered, what was wrong? She wanted very sincerely to win the regard if not the affection of the Queen and whenever possible she found a place near her in the many Court assemblies, One summer day as she stood quietly at Catherine s side during some minor conference, the Queen asked her rather pointedly why she lingered there instead of pining the other young people out-of-doors on the tennis courts.
Taken aback but with disarming candor Mary answered, 'Tour Majesty, I can always amuse myself with my companions, all to no profit. But in your gracious presence I learn those priceless lessons in deportment which will profit me all my life."
The Queen probably shrugged. This girl who had the bad taste and poor judgment to make a friend and confidant of Diane de Poitiers, a woman old enough to be her grandmother, need expect no encouragement. Besides, jealousy over Mary's first place in the heart of the Dauphin, and the fact that by her presence she automatically lifted the family of Guise into a more exalted position than they had formerly held, did not endear her to Catherine who had been dubious of the marriage in the first place. Only greed for the throne of Scotland for Francis had made it attractive to her.
