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After her interview with M de Bouchage and M d’Inteville, Michelle did not return to her rooms. Her cheeks still burning, she held the scrolled letters from the king and Mme the Duchess d’Angoulême in her shaking hands, undecided what to do. Much as she wished to crush them into a ball and throw them onto a blazing fire, she had promised to return them tomorrow at their final meeting.
After she dropped them in her room like burning coals, she slipped along the long halls and galleries of the château, slid through a small side door, and exited through a postern gate. The oversized iron latch screeched when she lifted it, and the heavy oak door slammed when she pulled it closed. She could not lock it from the outside either.
She tossed her head and walked off. The guards were diligent. She must burn away the anger that blazed through her. Eyes to the ground to avoid tripping over the uneven cobblestones or stepping into the stinking muck, she pushed through the market crowded with townsfolk and loud with the butchers, bakers, and brewers all shouting their wares. The everyday concerns of servants and housewives purchasing their goods helped calm her. It reminded her she needed to purchase a supply of oils and herbs. Since she was here, she made her way to the apothecary shop. It was located away from the noisy town center, in the quieter district where lived the suppliers of luxuries to the court, the soaps, perfumes, linens, silks and so much more.
The apothecary shop, with its mix of familiar odors — the dry scents of herbs, the powdery odor of ground bat’s dung, the sting of antimony, the spicy aroma of pine and more mysterious fragrances — soothed her troubled spirit. Concentrating to recall what she needed since she had come without a list, she purchased the lavender flowers, willow bark and opium drops that she always used. By the time she left, her rage had dissipated. It left hurt behind.
Continuing her walk through the quietest part of town, she headed back toward the castle, as she faced her pain. She had served Queen Anne since she was fourteen and had been heartbroken when she died. If it were not for her promise to Anne to care for little Renée, she would have retired from the court at once. These accusations brought by King François stung. Those by Duchess Louise she dismissed with a toss of her head, though she would certainly repudiate them. And she regretted she had been so harsh to sweet Queen Claude, who was only trying to help her. In truth, she had been expecting to be dismissed ever since King François had succeeded to the throne.
By the time she returned to her rooms, Michelle had walked out her rage. She spent the next hours, until the candles guttered in the candelabra and dawn crept over the horizon, phrasing her letters to the king and the queen mother. She intended to avoid affront, yet she was determined to exonerate herself and her family. It was not easy to find the perfect words. She reflected upon each nuance and considered, too, its effect upon Queen Claude. It must also cause no harm to the two men her royal enemies had hidden behind.
She wrote first to the king.
Written in Amboise, 11 July 1515
Sire:
Most humbly I recommend myself to your good grace. I read the letter that it pleased you to write to Monsieur du Bouchage, in which you ordered him to tell me to release the person of Madame Renée and her goods to Madame the Countess de Tonnerre, and to retire with my suite to my estates.
Sire, at your advent, it pleased you to send Monsieur de Saint Marçault to me with written orders that it was your pleasure that I continue the charge the late King and Queen, her father and mother, had given me. You gave me your letters patent for the conduct of the business and the household of the said Madame Renée, to which charge, Sire, never have I caused you fault. And it disappoints me that when you were here, I did not understand your wish to replace me. I call it my greatest sorrow in all of this, those things Monsieur du Bouchage and Monsieur the Bailiff of Troyes said as coming from you.
These words will serve to remove me from this service for I desire more to dwell in your good graces in my estate than to serve here at your displeasure. I beg very humbly, Sire, that it pleases you to leave the estates to my family that it pleased you to give to us.
Please God that it be your will to recommend us and to keep us and our affairs in your good grace. Sire, I pray God to give you very good and long life.
Michelle de Saubonne,
Lady of Soubise.
The letter to Mme Louise took more time, for she had to keep her indignation from spilling onto the page. Princess Renée was going to suffer because Duchess Louise would not tolerate any opposition. Moreover, the Duchess would spread calumnies about Michelle and her family because Michelle had dared argue with her about Renée’s care. Her letter must be a model of diplomacy, yet full of compelling and indisputable details to defend her family from the duchess’s false charges. She lost count of the number of times she cleaned her slate and started over before she was satisfied. But the candle stubs and her reddened eyes from their smoke told their own story.
Written in Amboise, 11 July 1515
Madame
With this letter I recommend myself most humbly to your good grace.
Madame, I have seen the letters that it pleased the King, the Queen and you to write to Monsieur du Bouchage, by which I am informed that it is the pleasure of the King that I charge the person of Madame Renée and her household to Madame, the Countess de Tonnerre, and that I retire to my estate with my suite.
Madame, I have always wanted to hear your pleasure and the King’s in order to obey. I asked you before you departed hence, and it pleased you, Madame, to order me to continue in my charge. I had confidence in you and your kind words, which were the greatest hope that I had in this world. It has been the cause, Madame, which for many years has kept me from taking care of my own business, for I was never at my estates.
However, to obey the commandment of the King’s and yours in all haste, as I have always done, I will go to my sister's house.
Of the rest of the household in place, Madame, there has never been a man who was put there by me, except the late Monsieur de Soubise’s two brothers to whom it pleased you to give the place of my other brother-in-law. The late Queen put him there, and he was the first servant in his Office, for before that my said Dame Renée did not have one. I have only one clerk of Office, whom the late King put there. The late Queen and the late King charged Mademoiselle de Vaucouleur to the said Dame Renée. There is, similarly, a girl that said late Queen baptized in the name of the said Dame Renée of those who came from Thunes, who always stayed with me and, at my request, was put in the estate during the past year, and there is only this one, who was also of the time of the said late King and Queen, as Sieur Jacques de Beaune and others know, for it was they who handled the estates.
Madame, I have long wanted to declare the truth, and have it known to you. It has been the desire of all my life to serve Madame Renée, as it pleased the late King and Queen to charge of me, and it troubles me with all my heart that I am unable to show the King and you the pleasure I have had from doing this.
Madame, neither the Sieur du Bouchage nor Sieur the Bailiff de Troyes explained the King’s or your wishes touching my family estates, which are in your gift.
I beg very humbly, therefore, Madame, as it pleased you to state at your departure, that it pleases you to keep me in your grace and that I may recommend ourselves to you. Madam, I pray God gives you a very good life and long.
Michelle de Saubonne,
Lady of Soubise.
Michelle rose from the hard chair and stretched before blowing out the candles. There was much she would have liked to say. But with what profit? Her family benefited more from royal favor than she would gain from justifying herself. Shrugging she kneeled at her prie-dieu and asked God to provide her with justice if that was His will. Then she fell onto her bed, still fully clothed and slept.
* * *
BEFORE HER INTERVIEW with the king’s men the next morning, Michelle begged a few minutes of Queen Claude’s time and thrust her letters into the queen’s hands.
After Mme Claude read them through carefully twice, she raised her eyes to Michelle’s, feeling ashamed of her doubts. “As I always believed, there was not a word of truth in her accusation. Your explanations of each appointment charged to Renée’s household are crystal clear. The only recent appointment she made herself, as well I know.” She sniffed. “But I did not know that she had so recently asked you to continue in your position. As you say, since they were both here, they could have spoken to you directly, since they had each asked you to stay on as Renée’s gouvernante after Maman and Papa died.” It did not surprise her that her husband had avoided confrontation, but her mother-in-law’s spinelessness startled her.
Claude brooded. Eventually she said, “I am puzzled about this part regarding your family estates. Are you concerned that your family will lose the Parc de Soubise?”
“I do not know what to believe any more.” Michelle shook her head, her expression bemused. “When you said Mme Louise intended to replace me, I found it almost inconceivable. Both my late husband’s and my family have belonged to the Valois affinity for generations. I served your late mother as her Dame d’atour. I heard Mme la Duchess swear a deathbed vow to Queen Anne that I would remain the princess’s gouvernante. And then there is the love that I bear for the princess and she for me. Any one of these should have stayed her hand. So, when you ask, ‘will the Duchess retract my husband’s family estates because of her displeasure?’ I no longer know.”
“Sit,” Claude said, “you are so white I am afraid you will faint.” She reflected uneasily on what she knew about the harm done by her mother-in-law. She had certainly misled her about Renée’s betrothal. Then there was everything that had happened with Dowager Queen Marie. Claude’s ladies whispered that Mme Louise had helped Queen Marie remarry in such unbecoming haste, so insulting to Papa and to France. She had certainly done her best to poison Claude’s trust in Mme Michelle. These were small acts compared to disinheriting a family. Yet now, when she was dismissing the baronne, she was trying to blacken the Soubise family name. Gossip would soon spread that she had done so because they had enriched themselves at the expense of the young princess. Mme Michelle had good cause for her concern.
Claude’s own fear of her mother-in-law increased. But it was her duty to reassure her friend. “Do not let this trouble you. For the time being, Maman Louise is much too occupied with the coming war in Italy. And your answer must prevent her from continuing with this charge.” She signaled one of her ladies and ordered her to call a secretary. “I shall have a copy made before you leave this room. My ladies shall spread the truth to all their families. That is a start.”
Once the copy had been made, Queen Claude initialed both letters so M du Bouchage and M le Bailli de Troyes knew she had read and approved them. As Michelle departed, she rose and walked her to the door so that all her ladies- and maids-in-waiting would see how highly she honored Renée’s former gouvernante.
Michelle’s second interview with M le Count and M le Bailli was short. After returning the king and the duchess d’Angoulême’s letters, she asked them to read and initial her replies before sealing them with their official seals. “I am sure that you wish as much as I that we can all swear to the security of the contents when their Royal Majesties receive the replies,” she said, though she did not believe they agreed. But they could not refuse.
She refrained from asking about the results of the inventory being conducted. She did not need to. Several of her friends had whispered to her in confidence that there had been several hasty meetings that morning to which Demoiselle de Gaillard had been called.
Instead, she reminded them she had stated she would leave for her sister’s forthwith in her letter to Mme d’Angoulême. “Thus, gentlemen, if we have completed this interview, I shall take my leave of you. My personal servants and I leave on the morrow at daybreak. There is much to do to organize my departure in such haste. The queen kindly lends me one of her teams and a carriage to make the journey.” She curtsied and turned her back on them.
* * *
QUEEN CLAUDE STOOD beside the open door of the carriage in the courtyard as dawn broke over the horizon. The orange glow of the sky turned the river into a highway of fire. The distant rattle of iron wagon wheels and clatter of horses’ hooves on cobblestones died away. Servants completed the final bustle of stowing the baskets of provisions, the portable desk with its writing supplies and the books they needed to occupy Mme Michelle and her lady-in-waiting on the dusty drive. It should take less than a day if all went well, but it was always wise to leave early to allow for mishaps. Usually they would travel by river, but Queen Claude insisted on providing Renée’s gouvernante with a team and equipage to keep in Blois.
She had informed her Master of Horse that the team traveling with Mme de Soubise would not return to Amboise. When he questioned her, she practiced her advice to the Countess de Tonnerre.
Raising her eyebrows, she asked, “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Certainly not, Your Majesty.”
“Good. That will be all. Thank you.” She had smiled at him and turned away. It had not been easy. Her household was not accustomed to her giving orders without explanations, for she believed her people worked with better spirit when they understood the reason for what they did. But she, too, must learn, she had told herself.
“Your trip should pass smoothly,” she said to Mme Michelle. “The route should be dry, for there has been no rain for the past sennight. Mme la Sénéchalle des Lancs says her bones do not ache so the dry spell will last another sennight.” Her eyes crinkled and the corners of Mme Michelle’s lips curled. Mme la Sénéchalle’s bones were legendary.
Queen Claude pulled the baronne into a hug. Clinging to her, she murmured, “What did you say to Renée last night?”
Her mouth close to the queen’s ear, Michelle answered, “I told her I was leaving this morning very early, but I would see her soon, si Dieu le voulait. But she must say nothing for now... and you would explain everything to her today. She loves a secret, so she settled down.” Michelle held Claude a moment longer. Then, after kissing her forehead, she curtsied.
The valet standing nearby offered his arm for her to mount the step into the carriage. Claude could not bear to let her go. Until this moment she had not dwelt on her fear of giving birth without Mme Michelle’s reassuring presence. But now, as she watched her climb into the carriage to leave, her distress turned to panic. Her maman had lost almost every one of her babies. So many of her own friends had died giving birth. Tears flooding her eyes, she grasped the older woman’s arm. “It seems hard that you will depart this way, going off to... um... with only your lady to accompany you. I wanted you to be here with me during my confinement. I may never see you a-a-gain.”
Michelle pulled a cloth from her sleeve and patted Queen Claude’s eyes dry. “Never say or think that, Mme Claude. You will be fine and so will your babe. I will pray for you every day.” She reached for Queen Anne’s rosary that hung from Claude’s waist and closed her fingers around its crucifix. “Trust the Virgin. And I will see you when the Lord permits, and when you can travel again.” She curtsied once more.
Claude fought to pull herself together. She must do this for Renée. Wiping her eyes, she nodded and stepped back. “May the Lord bless your journey.”
As soon as the carriage door closed, she trudged back up the stairs clutching her mother’s rosary. She needed its protection now. Fighting the fears that threatened to overwhelm her, she made her way to the chapel instead of returning to her chambers. Maman Louise had not only deprived her young sister of her last trusted mother figure, she had also removed Claude’s sense of security as her first confinement neared. Even if she had not been able to keep Maman’s babies alive, Mme Michelle had brought her mother safely through countless births. So many of her friends and the ladies Claude had known at her mother’s court had died in childbirth. She would feel much more secure if Michelle were with her. The next weeks loomed long and dangerous. Lighting a candle, she kneeled and prayed to St. Margaret to protect her.
* * *
THE IRON-STUDDED WHEELS of Michelle’s carriage clanked along the worn stones of the old Roman road. The body of the vehicle creaked on its leather straps, rocking Michelle as gently as a baby in a cradle. Their horses plodded at walking pace to keep their jolting to a minimum. The swaying had lulled her lady-in-waiting, seated on the opposite bench, to sleep. Their early morning departure had been too much for her, thought Michelle.
Although Michelle closed her eyes, sleep eluded her. The interior of the carriage glowed even with her eyes closed and the dark curtains pulled. Besides, the air was already becoming stale. The country sounds of cattle mooing and chickens cackling, birds twittering, and men calling to her outriders intrigued her. Popping her eyes open, she pulled the curtains back and leaned her head out. The rising sun dazzled over the tops of the distant trees almost directly ahead, so the landscape blurred into a silhouette. Squinting, she could make out the old road, long and gray, following the gentle curve of the Loire River. Beside them, the sun glinted on the river and the soft air already smelled fresh, scented with green things growing.
Leaning back against the hard cushions, she watched the passing scene while her companion snored like a lazy bee. Michelle’s thoughts rose and sank, mimicking their rhythm.
Perhaps she should not have turned her back on the duchess’s messengers at the end of the interview. She had kept her temper until then. Courtiers did not enjoy the luxury of revealing their thoughts. Reviewing her letters once again, she wondered if she had said more than was wise. Well, it was done now. Queen Claude had not advised her to water down her words. Her eyes filled at the thought of Mme Claude. She had not admitted it to the queen, but she was worried about her upcoming childbirth. Not to be with Mme Claude during her confinement was Mme Louise’s final cruel flick of the whip.
The sudden increase in the number of carts full of heavy stone, timber, and charcoal caught Michelle’s attention, and she slid across the padded seat to the other side of the carriage and opened the curtains. They were passing a château that was under construction; it stood on the heights visible from the road. She could see the carts veering onto a dirt track to journey up the bluff towards it. Already the principal building facing the river had been completed, shining white in the sunlight. Elegant, modern, and charming. Like the d’Angoulême family itself. How beguiling they had been as they enchanted Claude into urging her dying mother to approve her betrothal. And Claude had been eager to join their family.
If Louise had not been so greedy, Claude would have continued to rely upon her, for Claude was gentle and trusting, and she had wanted so much to lean on someone after she lost her mother.
Mme Louise had been impatient and had overplayed her hand. Fortunately for me and my little princess, Michelle thought. If Mme Louise had waited until she was regent and the queen was with her in Lyon, she could have replaced me without Claude knowing until it had already happened. What a relief that the waiting was over. Resolutely Michelle turned her thoughts to the future. How long would it be before the countess and Princess Renée arrived?
* * *
THE BELLS FOR NONES had just ended when Michelle’s carriage pulled through the portcullis into the courtyard of her new home. It was located in upper Blois tucked against the Château walls — the most prestigious section of the town. The narrow street that fronted it led directly to one of the defended town gates. Stables lined the opposite side of the street to service the private hôtels of the nobility and high officials of the royal household.
M. de Beaune fils stood in the courtyard to welcome her and show her through her new home while her Maître d’hôtel and lady-in-waiting managed the bustle of installing her household in its new residence.
She stood before the grand entry staircase, admiring its elegant curves. Craning her neck back, she looked upward to the patch of sky above the courtyard and the steep slate roofs high above her, for the house rose tall and narrow. The kitchens and storerooms opened from the ground floor in front of her, but her guide motioned her to mount the stairs. Well, she would explore the kitchens herself another time.
When the double doors of the front portal were thrown wide to welcome her to the front hall that rose two stories high, she gasped. Light poured into the hall from the great paned window above her head. The grand stairway, leading to a balcony that stretched around three sides of the floor above them, faced them as they entered. From the ceiling high above them, a great chandelier lit the entire central entrance hall. Michelle felt dwarfed in its magnificence.
Michelle breathed. “I did not expect anything like this.” The grandeur daunted her. It would grow on her, she supposed.
She was much happier with the day nursery. It was large and bright from the whitewash with tall front-facing windows. Painted rabbits and hedgehogs, swallows and owls, roses, and daffodils, adorned the upper walls and capered over the ceilings.
“Did you think of this?”
“Madame la Reine ordered it.”
The queen was the most thoughtful person Michelle knew. Already the room contained painted chests, probably filled with the dolls and games that Renée favored. She would have examined the room further, but laden porters arrived with tables, chairs, and more chests.
Michelle’s bedroom disappointed her when they entered. Though spacious, whitewashed, and well-appointed, it was dark despite the candlelight from its many standing candelabra, for it lacked windows.
M. de Beaune fils walked to the far half-wainscoted wall. He twisted a piece of the trim, chose a key from the many he carried, and inserted it into a keyhole. Picking up a lighted candle, he pushed a section of the wall forward.
“Follow me,” he said, and pushed it closed behind them.
The whitewashed walls of the stone corridor extended for about six feet. About six feet high and about half as wide, it was not forbidding, but it was mysterious. A heavy wooden door barred its far end. Black iron hinges and a circular iron handle studded its surface. Below the massive handle, a keyhole stared at them like a giant eye. The young man offered Michelle a key and said, “Would you...”
Michelle gave him no time to finish. Inserting the key, she turned it. The mechanism moved easily. Grasping the enormous handle, she twisted it, pushed the door open, stepped outside and looked around.
As the queen had promised, she stood on the château grounds. Yet the entry to her house was well hidden by its corner location behind a tall privet hedge. Down a short gravel path she saw another tall, locked gate.
“On the far side, a private path leads to Queen Anne’s private retreat. Queen Claude has ordered me to provide keys to the Countess de Tonnerre when she arrives. Only you, the countess, and the queen herself—or I in her absence—will have these keys.” He gave her a set of keys on a heavy metal ring.
That night when Michelle entered her bedroom, it seemed welcoming and cozy. As she lay in her bed, Michelle already felt lighter as the weight of envy and court gossip lifted. Everything about the house was perfect. Already she was happy here, and she was certain Renée would be too.