Looking up from her curtsey, Juliette's brown eyes searched the Queen's blue ones for some indication of her emotions. She was surprised to find that she was trembling, even after all her years of service to Her Majesty.
Then Anne of Austria smiled, her golden face radiant as the sun. "Of course you may leave, my dear. It's Dogtanian, I take it?"
"Yes, your Highness, he has asked me to marry him!" Juliette blushed. On impulse, she blurted out: "Are you angry with me?"
The Queen shook her head. "Not in the least. I will be sorry to see you go, but you have devoted years of your young life to my comforts. It is time to live for yourself. I wish you the best of luck."
"Thank you, your Majesty." Juliette curtsied again, still stiffly formal despite her great intimacy with her mistress. But when she straightened up she found herself in the Queen's embrace. She gasped with surprise, then returned the warm hug. Suddenly they were not mistress and servant, but friends - almost sisters.
"Do you remember when you came into my service, Juliette?" asked the beautiful Spitz, gliding over to the window and gazing out over the formal garden.
"I shall never forget it. Your Majesty showed me great kindness."
"If I did, it was repaid a thousand times over." Juliette joined the Queen and their eyes met as they shared the memory...
*
Why, the child looks scarcely old enough to dress herself! was Anne's first thought as the nervous little girl executed a clumsy curtsey. She could be no more than ten or eleven, and was prettily dressed in a pink smock.
"My niece Juliette, Your Majesty," said the bulldog Bonacieux, an old friend and companion. "She is of age to enter service, and I hoped..." He left the rest of the sentence hanging, twirling his hat between his hands. Uncle and niece shared such a similar expression of anxiety that it was difficult for the Queen to conceal unbecoming amusement. Instead of laughing, she smiled warmly.
"Well, I am in need of a lady-in-waiting. Can you sew, Juliette?"
"Y-yes."
"Your Majesty!" added Bonacieux in a hoarse whisper.
"Yes, your Majesty."
"Can you fasten a dress?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"Can you lay a table for afternoon tea?"
"Oh yes, your Majesty!"
Anne suspected that Juliette's experience of the last was limited to tea parties for dolls. Nevertheless, she wanted to repay Bonacieux for his loyalty and the girl seemed willing enough.
"In that case, Juliette, you may consider yourself in the service of the Queen. We shall make a start immediately. Bonacieux, you may go."
"Thank you, Your Highness. Behave yourself, my poppet, and do as the good Queen tells you." Bonacieux blinked hard, and fumbled for his handkerchief as he left.
The child seemed much more composed than her uncle. She looked solemnly up at Anne, waiting. The Queen was disconcerted by her frank gaze, and for a moment uncertain what to do.
"Would you like some tea, Juliette?" she asked.
"Yes please! Your Majesty," added Juliette hastily.
"Well then, ring that bell there, and when a servant comes you must order the meal for us both. Then you can pour out, and we will take tea and get to know one another."
Over tea Anne discovered that Juliette was an only child, that she had been orphaned at an early age and could not remember her parents, and that she wished she had been born a boy so she could become a Musketeer. She answered all the Queen's questions honestly and cheerfully, and scrambled to refill her new mistress' cup when it was empty.
"I retire at ten, Juliette. Is that too late for you? I can have one of my other maids put me to bed."
"Oh no, your Majesty. I often stay up well into the night to keep my uncle company." Indeed, Juliette still seemed full of energy.
"In that case, you may do some mending while I work on my embroidery. We shall sew together, how's that?"
Juliette frowned with concentration, the tip of her tongue protruding as she struggled to make her stitches as tiny and neat as befitted the clothes of a Queen. Settling to her task, she became more relaxed and began to sing in a soft, sweet voice without apparently realising she did so. Anne nodded to herself as she passed the needle in and out of her delicate tapestry, a hunting scene which would be a gift for her husband. She had chosen well.
Within a few days Juliette knew every corner of the palace. She was willing and eager, as happy to help out in the kitchens as to wait on the Queen at dinner. So small and innocent was she that no one felt the need to guard their tongue in her presence, and her quick mind stored away many snippets of palace gossip. In her conversations with the Queen she passed on those pieces of information she thought would amuse her mistress.
"And so the cat got into the syllabub, and the King was forced to take bread and cheese for his dessert!" she finished. Anne pealed with laughter, then her face became serious. Could she trust this child with matters of security - and did she have the right to involve her? Watching Juliette's happy, eager face, she made up her mind.
"Juliette, listen. There are those who would plot to hurt me."
"Surely not!"
"Yes, and they may have agents even in the Palace. You are a good listener, and you know everyone. If you ever notice anything strange or hear a conversation that doesn't sound good to you, will you tell me?"
"At once, your Majesty." Juliette promised solemnly.
So she became Anne's eyes and ears, watching and listening everywhere. She went where a figure of state could never venture, chatting with stablehand, wine steward and boot boy. The secret lives of Anne's servants were revealed to her. When the King was about to sack his valet for slacking, the Queen knew that he played truant because his mother was sick and gave him a week's paid leave. Louis was amazed at his wife's sagacity and admired her all the more.
One morning Juliette found herself unexpectedly free, as the King had taken the Queen out for a drive. She made her way to the yard to talk with a friend: Philippe, the boy who cleaned out the stables. He was equally at liberty, and before long the pair were engaged in a mock duel using swords fashioned from twists of straw. They hurled insults at each other as they laughingly feinted and parried. Juliette's hair was filled with chaff, and she had tucked her dress into her knickers for freedom of movement.
Suddenly the sound of a horse's hooves rang out on the cobblestones. Not wishing to be seen in such an unladylike condition, Juliette looked around for a hiding-place and quickly burrowed into a pile of hay. The boy hurried to take the horse's bridle and lead it to an unoccupied stall.
Juliette peeped out. The horse was big and black, and its glossy sides ran with sweat as though it had been ridden hard for many miles. Its rider was a stranger to her - a tall, lean hound with a pointed nose and neat black moustachios. He had a sly expression which she did not like. She resolved to tell the Queen about this as soon as possible.
"I wish to see the King immediately," the stranger was telling her friend.
"I am afraid His Majesty is out, but I'll take you somewhere you can wait for him in comfort," he replied.
"Thank you, boy. I can find my own way. I am no stranger to the King's quarters." Suddenly he spotted the straw sword which the stable-boy had absent-mindedly tucked into his belt. "What's that? A sword?"
The boy stuttered something, embarrassed.
"Draw it, then, and we shall have a duel." Puzzled but not daring to disobey he did as he was told, and the cavalier drew his own piece - a proper blade of Spanish steel. They bowed and crossed swords, then in a blur of silver the weapon of straw had been shredded into a fine dust that made the poor stable-hand sneeze.
The stranger bowed. "Count Rochefort at your service," he said. "Duel me again when you have a real sword!" Laughing, he walked away, boots ringing on the cobbled yard. Juliette gasped in her hiding-place - this was a dangerous man indeed.
"Bah!" Philippe spat on the ground. "Quel espèce de..." Realising that Juliette was still present, he clapped his hand over his mouth to prevent the rest of the insult from escaping and hurried to help her out of the pile of hay. He brushed her down and fetched a horse's currycomb to tidy her ruffled hair.
"Thanks Philippe. I'll see you later," she said hastily, lifting the hem of her skirt and preparing to run.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry? The Queen won't be back for ages."
"I want to follow that man. I feel he brings trouble for my mistress," Juliette told him in a low voice.
"Be careful! He frightens me!"
Juliette nodded in agreement, but she knew where her duty lay. Stealthily she followed the Count's path round to the front of the palace.
It did not surprise her that the Count, as he had called himself, was making his way not towards the King's quarters but the area of the palace where her mistress's rooms lay. His steps were quick, as if he knew precisely where he was going and what he was doing.
The windows in the wood-panelled corridor were set high up, and at this time of day the lamps were not lit. The pools of darkness cast by statues and suits of armour usually scared the little servant when she walked here, but this time she knew the real danger was marching ahead of her and she was grateful for the cover afforded her by the shadows. She bunched her skirt and petticoat up in her hands to stop them rustling.
The Count stopped at the door to the day room where Queen Anne was accustomed to write letters, glanced quickly to either side, and entered, closing the door behind him. By the time Juliette had tiptoed to the door and put her eye to the keyhole, he had already opened the Queen's bureau and was rifling through her correspondence. As she watched, he selected an envelope and held it up to the light with a grunt of satisfaction.
This must stop, right now. Juliette turned the glass doorknob boldly and strode into the room.
"Sir, I think you have mistaken your way," she said. Her voice shook a little and her heart was clattering in her chest as she looked up from her eleven-year-old height at the tall adult - the tall adult with the sharp sword.
They held each other's gaze for a long time, the Count's glittering, dark eyes locked with Juliette's round brown ones. They both knew that there were no servants within earshot and that a meddling girl could be easily overpowered, then spirited away - or disposed of for good.
The thin fingers twitched at the sword-hilt. Juliette did not blink.
At last the man's hands fell to his sides and his gaze to the floor.
"You are correct. I apologise," he said through his teeth.
"I will conduct you to His Majesty's rooms, and send someone to sit with you while you await him," she said, holding out her hand. The Count meekly gave her the letter she had taken.
He did not speak again until they were in the King's chambers and Juliette had rung for a servant to bring wine for the guest of His Majesty. To her relief, the servant was Fortinbras, a trusty Newfoundland who would ensure their visitor got up to no further mischief.
As they awaited his return, Rochefort said:
"I thought of bribing you with candy or silencing you with threats, but I can see that would only make you despise me. I suppose you will tell your mistress what has happened?"
The little dog nodded mutely.
"Very well - but if you value Her Majesty's safety you will not inform the King, or anyone else. And I'll wager Queen Anne will beseech you to keep this a secret too."
He narrowed his eyes, above one of which there was a fearful scar. "Your loyalty to your mistress is commendable - and, in my opinion, misplaced. There is much you do not know about our King's beautiful bride and what she means for France. You have only to read that letter. Beware, little girl, lest she should fall and you with her!"
At his words, Juliette remembered certain incidents - conversations and behaviours of her mistress which had seemed a little odd. She touched the letter in her pocket, and she wondered. But Queen Anne had shown her nothing but kindness, and Juliette had promised with her whole heart to serve her. She looked proudly into the Count's eyes and said nothing, determined not to let him see he had shaken her.
When Fortinbras arrived with the wine it was all she could do not to hurl herself into his arms. Instead, she curtsied to the Count and swept out of the room with her nose in the air, like a fine lady who has been snubbed by a barrow-boy.
"Oh, Juliette! I have put you in danger, and I can never apologise enough!" cried Queen Anne when her maid had told her everything. "We haven't seen the last of that man, and now he has reason to hate you as well as me. Promise me you will avoid him!"
"I absolutely promise!" replied Juliette with such fervour that they both smiled a little.
"As for what he told you about me...I'm afraid he is right. I certainly do not deserve the loyalty you have shown today. When you are older I will tell you more. But please believe this: I love France, and I love my husband the King, whatever the contents of this envelope might suggest." And she held the recovered letter to her heart.
"I do not doubt you for a moment," said Juliette, "and as for the letter, it has not suggested anything to me, for of course I did not peek!"
*
"That was when I knew I could take you into my confidence, and you never failed me. Without you the Buckingham affair would have ruined me - ruined France. You risked your life for me, and were a companion in my lonely hours. I could not have wished for a better friend."
The Queen unpinned the brooch at her shoulder: a flawless diamond, huge and iridescent. "I want you to have this as a token of my eternal gratitude."
"Oh no, your Highness, I couldn't!" Juliette held up her hands, refusing to accept the gift.
"Juliette, a Queen's earthly treasures may fill a vault, but one good and faithful heart is worth more than all the wealth and power in the world. I give you a trinket; you gave me your devotion. Please, wear it at your wedding. It will just suit you, and it would mean so much to me."
Anne got to her knees and fastened the brooch to Juliette's simple dress, where its glow only served to emphasise her pretty features. Juliette was unhappy with this unexpected role reversal of mistress waiting on maid, and besought the Queen to get up. But Anne straightened the pink shift, then fetched her own silver-backed brushes and groomed her lady-in-waiting's long, soft hair.
"There. You are beautiful, Juliette, yet you never thought it of yourself. Dogtanian is an intelligent young man - and a lucky one."
"Anne!" laughed Juliette, going red. She put a hand to her mouth, realising too late that she had done the unthinkable and called the Queen of France by her Christian name.
"Yes, I speak not as your sovereign but as your friend. Je te permets de me tutoyer," replied the Queen, indicating that from now on Juliette's mode of address for her should be informal. She bent down and kissed the girl twice on each cheek.
"Au revoir, Juliette. I hope you will visit me sometimes."
"Oh, often! often!" Juliette assured her, stuttering with happiness. "Au revoir, your Highness! Au revoir!" She seemed to float on air as she left the royal bedchamber, pausing in the doorway to make a final, deep curtsey before running as fast as she could to Dogtanian waiting in the gardens.
Anne smiled to see their joy as Juliette gave the good news of her permission to leave her mistress's service. The young couple left arm in arm, and the Queen turned away from the window.
Then Anne of Austria, Queen of France, wife of Louis XIII the Just, crossed the room, seated herself alone on the bed where she had so often been combed, dressed and counselled by Juliette, and wept as if her heart would break.