March 3, 1554

Mary Beaton is well enough to travel, so the court moves on to Paris, but I wait here for a few days before going to Meudon. I miss the Marys but Diane is here still, and she promises that we shall take a long riding journey through Touraine and spend the night at the convent of the Calvarian sisters and at the abbey of Fontevrault. I look forward to this with great excitement. It shall be just Diane and myself and of course our guards. My Scots guardsmen, however, shall exchange what they are wearing for the simple clothes of French horse grooms and equerries of noble houses. And after this tour I shall go on to Meudon to see Grandmama and my uncles and new baby cousin.

 

PS I have tried to think about what Father Mamerot has said. But as soon as I try to think about it, other things creep into my mind. It seems so slippery. In one instant I can think, Oh, yes, I shall be much nicer to Queen Catherine, but then I think of her directing us in that ballet. So sure of herself. She is the proud one. And it is not just the ballet. It is the way she encourages her courtiers to fawn about her. The way she declares herself to be the authority, the final word on everything from fashion to food to sculpture to perfume, for goodness’ sakes.