The Runaway Royals - Part Eighteen
"Francis can you stop doing that!" Marie snapped. The King had been drumming his fingers on the side of the carriage ever since they passed through the last town and it was getting on Marie's nerves. It had been a day since they had received the bad news from Bordeaux and the tension in their carriage had been steadily mounting.
Marie had to admit she had never seen her husband so anxious. Wars had been threatened, rebellions planned and never had she seen him get as nervous as he was now. He had formed an attachment to his daughter-in-law which was as strong as she had ever seen him make. Danielle was obviously still nervous of him, but they had spent several afternoons together, when he was not busy. She had an open and affectionate temper which suited the King very well and her knowledge of political and military matters was superior to even his best advisor. He had no doubt that she would guide Henry to be the best of monarchs and would raise the next generation of sovereign to be just the same, if she were to live long enough to do it.
The change in Queen Marie was astounding when she became distressed. She could go from being charming and amiable to being irritable and snappish. When she was in this mood everyone knew to steer well clear of her. Her temper was as bad as her husband's and her lady-in-waiting had suffered numerous tongue lashings from her. Especially at the time of her son's death. That had been difficult for all. The King and Queen distanced themselves from each other and buried themselves in work and court life. Marie drew comfort from her youngest son while Francis seemed to resent him for being the one still alive. It was no secret that despite their differences Francis and his eldest son enjoyed a close relationship. Henry had never been much a part of his life.
As the state carriage jostled along the bumpy road Francis looked over at his wife. Her mood may have been peevish but her countenance was very uneasy. She was chewing her bottom lip and absently playing with a gold chain about her neck. Francis took one of her hands. They looked at each other. "Do not fret my dear," he said quietly. "I am sure Gerard is taking good care of her." The thought that their good friend the Duc de Bordeaux was with them brought some comfort to Marie. He was a good man. He had learned a lot about patience and charity from his wife. At one time Marie had been quite jealous of the Duchesse Emmeline. She seemed to commandeer so much of Henry's time, it was as if he was her child and not Marie's. But eventually Marie realised that she was a good influence on her son. The young Prince was brash and at times arrogant, but he would have been much worse without her guidance.
This communication between husband and wife did nothing to bring Jacqueline out of the state of contemplation she had been in ever since they left the palace the previous day. She had not been able to get Danielle out of her mind. Danielle had been the closest thing Jacqueline had ever had to a real friend. Her mother and sister had never shown any interest in her. The only time Marguerite had ever tolerated Jacqueline was when she was bored, or wanted something. The servants at the manor had always seen her as the mistress's daughter and therefore not to be trusted. Danielle though had always found time for her. In those two years after Monsieur de Barbarac's death they had grown very fond of each other. They would swim in the lake and climb trees when Rodmilla was not there. When Danielle was moved into the servants quarters, they had to be content with late night talks. Jacqueline would usually steal away to Danielle's draughty room with treats from the kitchen and they would stay up giggling together until the early hours. In recent years it happened less and less though. The stakes were getting too high.
The guilt for not having visited Danielle at the palace since her marriage was tormenting Jacqueline. Why had she allowed her mother to get to her like that? Not since she was a child had she cared so much what Rodmilla thought of her. It was a long time since she had realised that she would never be like Marguerite in her mother's eyes. Were it not for her though, Jacqueline would have seen her sister before this happened. Damn that woman. Danielle would at least have known that she loved her. For Danielle was as much like a real sister to her as anyone ever could be. The fact that they had different parents meant nothing to her. Now she may never have the chance to tell her beloved sister that she was sorry for allowing her to suffer in that way at the hands of Rodmilla and Marguerite.
As the three inhabitants of the carriage contemplated there feelings of guilt the Chateau de Bordeaux came into view. How it seemed to have changed since last a royal couple were there. Twenty one years ago the young King Francis and heavily pregnant Queen Marie had journeyed there with their son Francis and daughters Eleanor, Margaret and Madeleine to visit their friends Gerard and Emmeline, the Duke and Duchess de Bordeaux. Back then the castle was still shaded by forest, with little in the way of gardens. Ancient ramparts and archers towers still dominated. But Emmeline had since seen to it that it be a place of beauty, welcoming to children. At least this was a nice place for Danielle to be now. It was quiet and beautiful. Exactly the sort of place a Princess could convalesce and if things were very bad, she could die with dignity here.
The carriage suddenly came to a stop. The travellers had been so engrossed in their own thoughts that they had not realised that they had reached their destination. Jacqueline jumped when the carriage door opened next to her. A hand appeared to help her out of the carriage. She absently took it and stepped down into the sunshine. She looked up at the building. It was a beautiful building. Exactly the sort of place Danielle would love. She just hoped that she would be able to enjoy it.
"Mademoiselle de Ghent," a voice said behind her. Jacqueline turned and saw Captain Polignac. "Should you require anything I shall not be far from you."
"Thank you Captain, I shall bear that in mind" she replied. She wondered at his being so unduly cordial to her. It was not as if he was assigned to protect her. He was with them now because he was one of the most experienced protection officers in the regiment. When at the manor he would be there not for her but for the whole household. There was no need to try and impress her.
As the Captain walked away, he too wondered why he had so suddenly offered his services in such a manner. He would not be working for her directly and she was not the type of lady he would usually be trying to impress. She was sweet natured and uncommonly pretty, but she was by no means striking which he usually looked for in a woman. He had once been acquainted with her sister Marguerite in a most disreputable way. At the time he had been unaware of a younger sister, but even if he had seen her then he would never have believed Jacqueline to be a Ghent. She shared her mother's looks but her temperament could not have been more different.
Outside the chateau there was nobody there to greet the royal party. It was as if there was nobody in the whole house. This lack of manners was not like the Duke. For the King and Queen to visit was a great occasion. Because of the circumstances they did not expect fanfares but protocol demanded some sort of welcoming presence at least. Captain Lefevre, the King's personal guard banged on the heavy oak door. It was opened by a small man, who very much put Jacqueline in mind of the odious Pierre le Pieu.
When he saw the King and Queen standing there he flung open the door and put on a great show of grovelling cordiality in the form of ridiculous bowing and a simpering tone of voice. The King however, was in no mood to give consequence to such a revolting specimen and made his way into the castle paying no heed to the little wretch. The Queen and Jacqueline followed, neither condescended to look at him.
The entrance hall was empty. Unusual for such a big house. Marie had not known such quiet since the death of her son. She was not sure if she could bear to go through mourning again for one of her children. She may not have given birth to Danielle, but she thought of her as a daughter.
"Where is my son?" Francis bellowed. Before he saw Danielle he had to have it out with Henry. "Well somebody answer me." Just then they heard the tapping of a cane on the stone floors and the Duke appeared a doorway.
"Francis. How long have you been here?" The Duke was one of the few men who used the King's first name. "I had told my aide to alert me when he saw your carriage approach. He obviously did not keep a lookout as I instructed." Francis saw him give an angry look to the same weasel who had let them in.
"Gerard, thank you so much for taking in my son. We cannot express how grateful we are," Marie said.
"Think nothing of it Marie," he kissed her hand. Just then they all heard Jacqueline let out a sob. They looked around at her. She was swaying as if about to collapse. Marie quickly moved forward to stop her from falling.
"Jacqueline my dear are you all right?" She did not reply. Marie looked around and saw a priest and two nuns in mourners white. Now she was the one who wanted to faint. What else could this mean? They were too late.
"Gerard, where is my son?" Francis asked.
"I believe he is in the guest drawing room." He pointed to another door. Francis did not wait to be shown the way, he stormed off, determined to have it out with Henry. "Francis, wait a moment, it's not..." But he was not listening.
Marie and Jacqueline followed him quickly. Marie knew that if this had really happened, now was not the right time to chastise him. Now he would be a husband in mourning. They called after him too, but he paid no heed to them. He flung the door open and stormed into the room. Marie and Jacqueline were not far behind him.
Sitting at a desk reading a book was Henry. He looked up at his father and smiled. Everyone was confused at this behaviour, but then they heard Jacqueline gasp again. They followed her gaze to a spot on the floor where there was a group of children all sitting around a story teller. They were looking up at the beautiful woman mesmerised. She was reading to them from a book of traditional French legends. Only one person could tell a story in such an animated way.
"Danielle!" Jacqueline called. She ran over to where her sister was sitting and threw her arms around her. "We thought that you had... Oh it doesn't matter what we thought. Are you all right? What happened? Should you be out of bed?"
"Jacqueline dearest, I'm fine. I woke up yesterday afternoon and have felt no problem since."
"You don't know how pleased I am to hear that?" A tear rolled down Jacqueline's cheek. Danielle raised a hand to wipe it away.
"Jacqueline, you have the most affectionate temper I have ever known. I think can imagine your joy. You indeed have no malice."
At that point Danielle looked up and saw the King and Queen, who had been watching this happy scene. She stood up and walked over to them, as calmly as she could with such excitement brewing inside her. The Queen however was not so calm and held her arms out to her and enveloped her in a warm, motherly embrace. Thank you for coming mother," Danielle said. She was now having difficulties holding back the tears.
Then Francis stepped forward and joined in the happy scene by kissing his daughter-in-law on the cheek and giving her a similar hug. This picture of domestic bliss was completed when Henry joined them.
"I have much to talk to you about son," Francis said. "But it can wait for now. I think we should just enjoy this moment while it lasts." Henry nodded. He knew what his father had to say and he accepted it. His Danielle was alive and no amount of chastisement from his father could change the way he felt at that moment. He joined in with the cheerful conversation and for the moment forgot all of his wrong doings. This moment was far too close to perfection for him to contemplate spoiling it now.