Sign of the Cross
By JeanTre16
Chapter 3
Palace Blossoms
Chapter Description: Things are blossoming at the palace other than flowers.
Waiting apprehensively for the queen's arrival, Jacqueline took in the view of the centrically laid out palace garden. Offset by the bluest of skies, the bright flowers vibrated in the backdrop of green lawns, carefully placed fountains, and large baroque figures. Its magnificent sight alone was one to take her breath away. But when the queen made her entrance to the garden terrace, the young visitor's heart stopped. Today, Queen Anne was there to see her—Jacqueline. Quickly remembering herself, she curtsied and said, "Your Majesty."
"Jacqueline," Queen Anne acknowledged. Both stood there looking at a loss for words before Anne recovered herself. "Madame Jacqueline d'Artagnan," she corrected keenly. The queen gestured for her guest to walk with her. As she fussed with the sleeves on her dress she flustered, and said, "I hope I wore the right dress for this occasion."
Her words took the young guest by surprise. Glimpsing at the queen unnoticed, the female no longer in hiding smiled. In relating to Queen Anne for the first time as a woman, she saw a side to this wealthy royal she had not seen before. Jacqueline wondered if she was like that with all her other lady visitors. "You look elegant, Your Majesty," assured the delighted caller. Attempting to overcome her lack of skill at small talk, the un-fledged Madame d'Artagnan reciprocated the queen's mode of conversation. "I was just thinking the same thing about my attire before you walked outside. I must admit, I am a little nervous."
"Jacqueline, dear, there is no need for you to be nervous in my presence." Queen Anne looked at the hesitant young lady and gave her lavish approval. "You look simply exquisite. The lovely blue you're wearing graces your beautiful eyes."
"Thank you, Your Majesty" The relieved listener could not help associating the queen's complement to another one she heard earlier that morning. "That's what d'Artagnan told me."
Queen Anne stopped and looked at her new acquaintance thoughtfully. "Well, a d'Artagnan can always be taken for their word my dear."
There it was again. Jacqueline was astonished at the warmth of the queen's air toward her. It seemed odd, but somehow touching that although the former farm-girl was not even considered of the bourgeois citizenry of France, the queen would address her in such a friendly way.
Jacqueline assumed it was Anne's trusted relationship with her legendary father-in-law and his son that gave her such clout. It was no secret that Queen Anne and Charles d'Artagnan were on good terms; her alias, Jacques Leponte, had witnessed that on the road to Reims for the coronation. Captain Duval also inferred that his former Musketeer captain had established 'ears' in royal places; the newly-made Madame assumed that meant the Queen-mother and her son. The observant woman had seen how Louis idolized the d'Artagnan men. She too, confessed that her being of relation to the famous soldier made her want to pinch herself at times. Perhaps the young Viscompte's wife was right about her acceptance by the queen due to her relationship with the d'Artagnan name. In that case, it was not on her own merit she was accepted, it was on the merit of her father-in-law and her husband. Jacqueline was determined to do nothing aside from what she had already done to discredit them. They deserved that much. They had put their good name on the line for her sake.
Anne and her guest walked on into the blossoming garden. Although Jacqueline had seen it through the eyes of Leponte before, she could not help think how strange it was to be strolling in it, in casual conversation with the queen. Maybe the strangeness was the fact that she was having a casual walk with a woman at all. It was the first time she had done so since her mother had died. She often wondered how it would feel to be in the company of a woman again, as a woman. How peculiar it felt for newly presented d'Artagnan, that her debut attempt in years would be in the presence of the Queen-mother of France.
"I'm thrilled you were able to make it on such short notice." Anne diplomatically filled the awkward silence. "I so much wanted to meet you."
"Me?" Jacqueline sounded amazed. Clearly she was missing some bit of information the queen had on her, beyond her being a d'Artagnan. The only other fact she knew that Queen Anne possessed about her was that she had been accused of killing the Cardinal's captain. And those were hardly terms the royal woman would be enthusiastic about meeting her on.
"Yes, tell me all about yourself," Anne requested, progressing as though she had never witnessed the whole court scene three weeks prior.
Jacqueline wondered how she would begin. What interesting thing could she say about her uneventful life on a farm? Even more absurd would be her explanation of how she spent her most recent past doubling as Musketeer, Jacques Leponte. "There really isn't much to say, Your Majesty," she finally voiced.
Apparently Queen Anne had not minded the brevity of her answer, for she quickly redirected their conversation. Watching Jacqueline fidget with her necklace, she commented, "That must be a very special cross you wear."
Jacqueline's attention sharpened at the queen's mention of her cross. She wondered if Queen Anne's initial attempt to engage her in small talk really masked her underlying intent to wait for the proper moment to say what she was really thinking. "It is special," the young woman answered carefully. "At least to me, anyway." She did not know what it implied to others. She understood it to be an appropriate adornment for a woman's commitment to her God. "It reminds me of my parents and my brother. And that God is with me through all things."
Anne closed her eyes at hearing Jacqueline's words, as if they deeply moved her. "Those are very special things indeed," Anne spoke, welling up with emotion. Then, fanning herself to recompose her poise, she looked into the courageous young woman's eyes, and transferred her sympathy. "Sometimes a simple engraved cross pendant does more to remind us of who we are than anything else we could possess."
Jacqueline wanted to ask her if she knew what significance her cross bore, but honestly, she did not even know if Louis had told his own mother about the note he had written. No, the dying-to-know woman would wait and ask her king in person. And if she were going to be able to speak with King Louis, she had a more pressing question to ask the queen.
Despite her anxiety, the question at the center of Jacqueline's heart had been begging to be asked all morning. It had to be risked. "Your Majesty," she began, cautiously. Queen Anne curiously looked at her apprehensive guest, who was nervously fingering her cross pendant. "Does the king think ill of me?" She went on, without awaiting an answer. "I know he has every right to, considering the circumstances, but it bothers me to think that he might. He is my king and I will always stand loyal to him, whatever he may think of me. I apologize if my question seems forward, Your Majesty, but I really must know." Her nervous eyes danced about in anticipation of an answer.
Queen Anne's response was more gracious than the fearful woman could have expected. The royal hostess stopped and took both of Madame d'Artagnan's hands in her own. And with unanticipated compassion, she said, "Jacqueline, my dear, I can assure you Louis thinks no such thing of you." Becoming slightly choked-up again, the queen added, "Neither do I. Now, you must promise me you will put all such thoughts to rest." Anne quickly released the young woman's hands and attempted to brighten the mood. She smiled at her guest and with a tilt of her head she added, "Come—" and gestured to her guest to walk with her "—let us become acquainted among these lovely spring sights and fragrances."
ooooooo
While Queen Anne and Jacqueline took a turn in the palace garden, d'Artagnan confidently walked the familiar palace halls to the business offices. Just short of the steward's office, Cardinal Mazarin intercepted the Musketeer. "D'Artagnan," the red-clad official spoke. Mazarin opened the steward's door and ushered the soldier in before him.
"Cardinal Mazarin," d'Artagnan reflected the unfeeling address, as he hesitantly walked past the man in red through the steward's door.
"So I hear you're becoming a man of the earth," Mazarin spoke, disdainfully.
D'Artagnan had nothing but a prideful, clueless look to offer the Cardinal in return; for he had no idea what the man in red referenced.
But, before his non-response was noted, Mazarin addressed the man behind the desk. "Colbert, there will be no need for your assistance. I will see to the Viscompte's affairs myself. You may go." He stood beside the man's chair and waited for him to vacate it before taking his place.
While the official named Colbert left the room, d'Artagnan attempted to keep his nonchalant air. "I see you're a man of many talents besides that of your robe, Cardinal." But in truth, he was becoming extremely uncomfortable. He had been asked to see the king's steward regarding land, and suddenly, Cardinal Mazarin was calling the shots. He tried not to let Mazarin read his uneasiness. "The next thing we'll know, you'll be doing pirouettes in the king's ballet," he taunted.
Cardinal Mazarin gave the witty Musketeer a look showing that he was not amused, and took a seat behind the desk. "Now that's exactly the kind of appreciation I'd expect from you, d'Artagnan," Mazarin spoke, unruffled. "But I suppose you already know what this is all about from the king's note he handed you three weeks ago. So let's get on with it, shall we?" He studied the papers on Colbert's desk as if looking for something in particular.
"Three weeks ago?" d'Artagnan questioned, distractedly. He too was looking at the papers on the steward's desk, from an upside-down vantage point. He hoped to glean some idea of what the Cardinal was talking about. Mazarin's word confounded him, since he had only received the notice to come to the palace that morning. It had been included in Jacqueline's invitation to see the queen.
"Yes, at court." Mazarin looked up, noticing with annoyance the young man's prying. "The king told me he handed you a note regarding…"
"Oh, that note." The quick-thinking young man headed him off and casually walked a distance away from the desk to look at a free-standing globe. He suddenly realized that the king had, for some reason, wanted to mislead his Premier as to the true nature of the note he had handed him at the acquittal. King Louis obviously did not want Mazarin to know about his message regarding the sign of the cross. If that was the case, then d'Artagnan would certainly not let on otherwise. Louis' words had said to 'guard the secret at all cost.' He was sure that guarding the secret from the Cardinal was a given. "How forgetful of me. It must have slipped my mind. The note that mentioned land, of course." The Musketeer looked disinterestedly at the globe and played along as generically as possible without giving himself away.
"Hmm, yes, land." Mazarin reflected suspiciously. Had he seen d'Artagnan's hesitation and cover up? "You could call it that." Then shuffling through several layers of papers, the Cardinal picked one up and read it aloud, "In the event where no inheritor claims a given title of land—" and the Premier raised just his eyes toward the Viscompte while keeping his head lowered "—no matter how small and insignificant..." Then, lowering his eyes back to the paper, he continued reading, "That land which is unclaimed shall revert in ownership to the king of France." At this point, the enacting official raised the document from the desk and read on, "In such cases, the king of France may do as he pleases with this land, keeping that which he deems desirous, or bequeathing that which he desires a loyal citizen of the crown to hold. Etcetera, etcetera..." Cardinal Mazarin now looked at the rather lost looking king's soldier in the face. "Can you believe all that nonsense, d'Artagnan?" The red-clad man motioned toward the document.
Quickly, the astonished man closed his mouth, which had hung open, and outwardly put up an air of confidence. He wished he knew what the Cardinal was getting at. He thought he was there to claim land his father had given him and now Mazarin was ranting on about land laws and the king's right to redirect land ownership. D'Artagnan could think of no reply, so he gave none.
Cardinal Mazarin set the document down and rose from his seat to expound, "Salic law, which has long dominated the way in which French soil has been allotted, states in short that no woman can inherit land." Mazarin swayed his hand in trivial gesture. "Our king seems to think you and your lovely wife—" the Cardinal paused to look at d'Artagnan "—what's her name?" He gestured for the Musketeer to fill in the blank, as though he did not recall it.
"Jacqueline," the grey and blue uniformed man said with prideful aloofness. He would not permit Mazarin to demean his wife.
"Yes, Jacqueeeline," Mazarin drew out her name disdainfully. "In paraphrased form, our king feels your wife is to have her land; therefore, he has sidestepped the legalities and has requited the title to the d'Artagnan name." The relaying man seemed to find some twisted pleasure in that pronouncement. "How does it feel for a great d'Artagnan to be the proud owner of a cabbage patch?" he asked with a demeaning air.
D'Artagnan did not answer. Such a slanderous comment did not deserve one. While the young man understood that the Roget farm was not a great inheritance for a Viscompte, he saw past Mazarin's crudeness to King Louis's compassionate heart. Jacqueline's precarious inheritance had spoken that the new king was personally involving himself in the settlement of her misfortune. There was no doubt in the Royal Musketeer's mind that His Majesty's gesture had been noble. D'Artagnan understood what it was to be noble, while the red-capped man did not. No, the slighted man resolved he would neither act hastily on the Cardinal's empty insults, nor would he stand there and allow this oppressive man to continue polluting the king's good deed.
Mazarin handed the Viscompte his land title none too soon. D'Artagnan had listened to enough of the man. Once again, he masked his piqued anger in his nonchalant manner. "I'm sorry I don't have time to stay and chat, Your Eminence. We were having such a lovely time."
Mazarin subtly interjected, "Allow me then to walk you out to meet your lovely wife, d'Artagnan." His teeth clenched together in an arrogant smile of pretense that relayed his shrouded malicious intentions.
"No need. I know my way out." The Musketeer walked off before he could hear any more malignancy from the Cardinal's mouth. No doubt, Mazarin wanted the opportunity to belittle Jacqueline to her face. D'Artagnan was not going to give him that pleasure. Aside from that, the concerned husband was not sure his wife was up to such a confrontation just yet. For the time being, the protective man would see to it that the insidious Premier stayed far away from the woman he loved.
Meanwhile, as the young Viscompte made his way to where Jacqueline and Queen Anne were finishing up their garden tour, Cardinal Mazarin's suspicion began to blossom in his palace chambers. His Eminence determined that he would have to watch this Musketeer wife's development of friendships with the Queen-mother and her son. She was now the wife of their favorite Musketeer—d'Artagnan. Such attachments would surely act against him.
Cardinal Mazarin scorned himself for his men's failure in taking care of the Musketeers on the night of Louis' celebration. He scorned himself for having been so foolish concerning this thorn-in-his-side waif. A seed was planted in his heart not to make the same mistake again concerning this woman. She was dangerous to Mazarin; he did not now how, but he knew that she was. He would call a meeting of the order. He would know the secret behind this woman's influence.
ooooooo
In the garden, time had passed quickly and Madame d'Artagnan's afternoon with the queen came to a close. Queen Anne graciously bid her farewell. "Jacqueline, I would very much like it if you came again," she offered, accompanied with a distinguished tilt of her head.
"I'd like that too, Your Majesty," Jacqueline replied. The touched guest smiled and curtsied. She had truly enjoyed her afternoon with this woman.
As Queen Anne retreated to the palace in the wake of her handmaids, Jacqueline strolled slowly toward the carriage house. She drank in deeply of the fresh spring air. Its crisp cleanness filled her lungs with the sweet blossom scents of the palace garden. She loved spring. Spring brought new life and the hope of renewal, and the king's mother's kind words had brought new life and the hope of renewal to Jacqueline. Louis did not despise her. Her Majesty had given her personal affirmation of that. Perhaps her husband was right. Maybe all she needed was a little time to heal. The hope-renewed woman silently thanked God for the second time that day for d'Artagnan. It had been him that urged her to accept the queen's invitation.
"So, how did it go?" d'Artagnan asked, seeming to appear out of nowhere. He had just summoned the carriage before meeting up with his wife to await its preparation.
Jacqueline turned to see her husband standing there and was about to answer, but something behind him in the distance caught her attention. Her focus slowly transformed to a squinted brow as if she was witnessing something she could not figure out the meaning of.
"Jacqueline?" d'Artagnan questioned and looked to see what her distraction was. Together they caught sight of King Louis coming from the palace in the company of a young petite lady. She had large brown eyes with dark brown curls that bounced with her exaggerated movement. Although the couple was not far from them, they were interested in nothing but their own conversation.
"Oh, Louis, would you show me your noble hunting dogs? I shall never have felt I've truly lived until I lay eyes on them for myself." The young lady spoke with animated dramatics.
"Then I shall take you to my kennels at once, Marie," replied an enthusiastic Louis. The young royal offered his arm for his companion to take.
Taking his extended are, the young lady elaborated excitedly, "I do hope they aren't fond of chasing ladies. I dreamt once of being chased by hounds across the lonely moors of Scotland. Although I must confess, I've never personally been to Scotland. I've only read tales of such romantic places in literature books." King Louis and this young woman talked on until they were out of earshot, leaving Jacqueline and d'Artagnan standing there in disbelief at what they had just seen and heard.
"A bit over the top, don't you think?" the bemused man finally spoke.
"To be honest, I'm not sure what to think," Jacqueline replied. "Queen Anne said something about Cardinal Mazarin's niece visiting for the summer. Do you suppose that's her?" Her brow reflectively went up at the thought.
With a look of distaste on his face, he answered, wittily, "It can't be. She doesn't act a thing like the caring Cardinal." D'Artagnan teased sarcastically, but held a look of concern. He had just spent time with the man, and wouldn't put it past him to offer his blood kin to the impressionable new king as political leverage.
"She seems young and innocent enough, and oddly she seems more his type than Princess Tatiana was. But then, if she's Mazarin's niece…?" Jacqueline left her observation open-ended.
"Yes, her and Mazarin," the jesting man agreed with an amused frown. "Let's hope they don't have anything more in common besides dogs." D'Artagnan eyed the couple then looked back at his wife.
"Nice comparison." Jacqueline gave her witty husband a jab in the ribs to his last comment. She knew he had insinuated Mazarin to be a dog.
"What? What'd I say?" d'Artagnan defended in clueless mockery, rubbing his side where she had elbowed him.
From a palace window, another set of eyes watched the engrossed couple make their way to the kennel. The Premier, too, was anxious concerning the young king and his niece. So far his seditious plan was going well. There were more things abloom than flowers at the palace this spring.