Captain Treville pops up in this chapter! Danger threatens Minette, but the Cardinal is there...
The embroidered nightshirt idea, I got from the brilliant scene of the Cardinal, in the Musketeers, rising from his sick bed, which was turned into a gif by one of my lovely Tumblr friends...Peter never looked nicer!
CHAPTER NINE.
FOR ME.
During the summer months the Royal Court moved outside of Paris, to escape the heat and the disease of the congested city. The halcyon days of summer belied the dark clouds brewing all around them, as the unrest increased. It was as if they were removed from it all, in a golden haze, a bubble, one that would soon be popped.
Cardinal Richelieu owned a summer residence, in the countryside, beyond the outskirts. Removed from the main court but close enough to be accessible to the King, whenever he was required, it was a modest villa by Royal standards, but large enough to contain his entire retinue. His Red Guards were on constant alert, and Richelieu had many meetings with Captain Treville to discuss the dangers. Although, here, he felt himself reasonably safe.
Minette was allowed to accompany him. She was given her own rooms, for her private use, and her maidservant, who had become devoted to her, was allowed to be with her mistress.
The house also contained a small private chapel where the household could celebrate Mass, over which the Cardinal himself usually officiated, or where he could pray alone if he wished.
Minette would go there every morning; it was cool inside, light came through the stained glass and created soothing coloured patterns on the walls, candles burned constantly and a hanging incense sensor swung, smoking, from the ceiling. She would sit in the front oak pew, and read from her little prayer book that her Master had given her.
Richelieu gave her a small monthly allowance, for personal expenditure. Since she wanted for very little, she often gave money to her sister, to assist with the bringing up of her child, thus supplementing her income. The rest she saved, meticulously. Over time it mounted to a considerable sum.
To pass the warm, languid days, her small fingers turned to sewing, at which she was adept. The exquisite embroidery on her Master's nightshirts and undershirts, were all fashioned by her.
She also played the spinnet, with great accomplishment. A beautifully painted, walnut instrument stood in the drawing room of the villa. The Cardinal loved to hear her play.
He was less busy, and had more free time, the King being occupied less with affairs of state and more with revels and hunting, artistic pursuits, such as balls, and plays, theatrical displays and frivolous entertainments.
Such entertainments were not to Richelieu's taste, he attended out of duty, but if he could excuse himself, he did, he preferred a quieter, more restful atmosphere.
It was the company of Minette, he sought, more often than not. To stroll with her around the grounds; sit with her at mealtimes; read to her or listen to her play and sing; pray quietly with her, or, when the balmy night air billowed the muslin curtains in his room, to lie beside her, embracing, loving, these became his chief delights.
Captain Treville had arrived early to discuss security arrangements for a forthcoming visit that the King was undertaking.
They sat together over a cold drink, in the gardens, a shady spot under the tree canopy.
Minette made herself scarce, she knew that matters of state were none of her affair, and her presence was not welcomed.
She wandered away across the lawns and towards a cool wooded area, she had discovered on a previous excursion, there was a gardener's bothy there, and sheep pens, close to the perimeter of The Cardinal's lands.
When the attack came, she was caught completely off guard. No one was nearby and the Red Guard were concentrated at the gates and around the house.
A hand grabbed her, covering her mouth, a blade point held at her neck. She had no time to react. A hoarse voice whispered,
"Make a sound and I'll cut your throat, Mademoiselle. You are coming with me."
Her mind worked quickly. She had a few seconds to make her decision...
She bit down hard on the hand, and kicked back with her foot, at the same moment. With a cry her assailant lost his grip and she ran.
Ran for her life.
She screamed and screamed as if her lungs would burst.
She knew the man was close on her heels, but she didn't look back.
Her cries alerted Treville and Richelieu, who immediately ran towards the direction of the sound.
As they reached the trees the sight of her met their eyes. A large, fully grown man, grappling with the tiny woman, who bit and kicked and scratched and fought, for all she was worth.
Treville drew his sword, and pelted forwards. Richelieu, peeled away and cut around, behind, unseen. Seeing how things stood, the assailant finally grabbed Minette round her throat, facing Treville,
"Come any closer, and I'll slit her from ear to ear." He said menacingly.
"Oh, I don't think you will." A voice close to his head whispered quietly. From inside his boot, the Cardinal had drawn a short bladed knife, with one deft motion, he brought it up between the ribs of the vagabond, who, releasing his grip on Minette, staggered forwards.
Richelieu caught his mistress in his arms. Treville grabbed the man, and hauled him away, bleeding profusely.
Only later, did the man confess to being part of a larger plot to kidnap Minette, to ransom her, for a high price.
Knowing how fond of her The Cardinal had become, made her useful and valuable. She had not been aware of her own danger. Nor, for that matter, had he. Threats to his own person were almost daily occurrences, but he had not considered the danger to her. He would be more vigilant on the future.
Later, that afternoon, bruised and battered, Minette was curled beside her beloved Master. He had not hesitated to save her, at great risk to himself.
When they made love that night, he was so tender, so gentle, she almost wept to feel it.
His whispered endearments,
"My little one, ma chère," made her feel as if her heart would burst.
She wanted, very much, to find a way to thank him. To show him how much his patronage, his care, his affection meant to her.
The King's jeweller was a personal friend of Richelieu, and often visited when The Cardinal had commissions for him. Baubles for the Queen, paste settings for masques and theatricals, or personal gifts to courtiers from the Royal couple. It was on one of these occasions that she managed to waylay him and give him her request.
She paid him from the money she had so carefully saved, a substantial sum though, for one such as she.
Torrential rain was falling, soaking the earth and cooling the searing heat of summer. The air smelled of the freshness, and the scent of the drooping roses that grew against the wall, by the window of the breakfast room, wafted in on the breeze.
A small table was laid as usual, so that Richelieu and Minette could sit, in the cool air and eat together.
The house was quiet. They were alone, the servants having retreated, leaving them in peace.
Minette, finished her food. He noticed how restless she seemed, as if waiting for a certain moment.
She pushed back her chair, and rose to her feet, excusing herself, she disappeared off to her room, returning a few moments later. He watched her curiously. She held her hands behind her back.
"What's this? Is something amiss?" He asked, eyebrow raised.
"Master, I have something for you."
She came to stand before him, where he sat, and he reached behind her, clasping her hands and bringing them forward. Between her fingers she held a small box.
His eyes searched her face, seeing her nervousness.
He took the box in his long fingers and opened it carefully.
Inside was an oval of gold, designed in a masculine fashion, egg shaped. It opened in two halves, and in one side was a tiny enamelled portrait of her, in the other, a lock of her hair, braided and curled into a spiral shape. A link in the top would take a chain or thong to fix to a man's purse string, to wear at his waist, as most men did at that time.
His lip trembled, as he turned it over in his hand, his thumb caressing the precious metal.
"For me? You had this made, for me?" His voice was a rasp, broken.
"For you," she replied," to thank you for being my Master. When you look at it, perhaps, sometimes, you'll think of me, and remember."
Pulling her to him he rested his face against her stomach, as she stood before his chair. Her arms came around his head and shoulder, her hand threading through his grey curls.
He raised his eyes to her and she bent and kissed him.
Instead of fixing the gift to his purse, he found a length of black ribbon, unfastening his tunic and shirt, he threaded the ribbon through the link, and hung the oval around his neck tucking it under his clothes.
"This is where this belongs," he said, "close to my heart, just like you."
She smiled, her eyes shining.
