She had stood up and, straightening her dress, became the Elizabeth I knew, inclined to be disdainful of her little sister’s youth.
“Run along now, dear,” she said, “and forget what I have said.”
But of course I was not going to forget. Many times I was on the verge of telling Mamie or Gaston. I felt it very difficult to restrain myself for I should have felt very superior for once to have discovered something they did not know. But I remembered my promise.
I did not have to wait long, for a few days after my encounter with Elizabeth our mother arrived in the nursery. Gaston and I did our ceremonious bows, and when she held out her hand to us we approached and stood one on either side of her. I found myself staring at her bosom, which always fascinated me. It was one of the biggest bosoms I had ever seen and very different from that of Madame de Montglat, which was almost nonexistent.
“Now, my children,” she said. “I have come to tell you some very good news. Your dear brother the King is about to be married.”
I gasped and stopped myself just in time from blurting out: “But I thought it was Elizabeth who is going to be married.”
We saw little of our brother Louis. Now that he was the King he was too important to be in our nursery and had to be taken away to have special tuition.
The Queen went on: “His dear little wife will come here to be with you for a while…but only until she is old enough to go to her husband. We are going to Bordeaux where we shall meet the new little Queen of France, whose father is giving her into our care. She is to be married to your brother. And now that we are taking his daughter from the King of Spain we think he might be a little unhappy so we are giving him our Princess Elizabeth. She is to be the wife of the son of the King of Spain. You were both at the proxy ceremony. You don’t remember. You were too young. It took place three years ago at the Palais Royal. You were only four then, Gaston, and you were three, Henriette.”
“I remember,” cried Gaston. “There was dancing and a banquet….”
“I remember too,” I put in, although I did not, but I was not going to be outdone by my brother.
“Well, that is good,” went on our mother. “There will be a real marriage now. So we are all going to Bordeaux and I have decided that it will be good for you children to come too.”
Our mother drew away to look at us closely.
I could see the questions trembling on Gaston’s lips, but he was always afraid to speak too freely in our mother’s presence.
The Queen went on: “It is a most happy occasion. It is an alliance with Spain. The daughter of a Spanish King will be a Queen of France and our daughter a Queen of Spain. Fair exchange, eh? Spain will be our ally and my daughter…Queen of Spain. She has married well, and what delights me as much as her crown is that she is going into a Catholic country.”
I was afraid then that our mother was going to ask how we were getting on with our religious instruction and I was just as scatterbrained with that as I was with other subjects.
But, however, she did not. She was clearly too excited by the marriages she had arranged.
“There will be many preparations to be made,” she said. “You will have new clothes.”
I clasped my hands in joy. I loved new clothes and I knew that those we would have to attend a grand wedding would be very grand indeed.
The preparations for this great occasion went on. I learned afterward that there were murmurings in the streets against my mother but I did not know of them then.
We seemed to spend long periods being fitted. I laughed at Gaston in his scarlet velvet coat and broad-brimmed beaver hat. He looked like a miniature cavalier. And I was like a lady of the Court in my puffed sleeves and wide cuffs, looped-up skirts and laces and ribbons. Everyone in our household came in to admire us and we loved our clothes—apart from the ever-present ruffs. “I shall never get used to them,” I declared; and Gaston hated them even more than I did.
Elizabeth’s gown was more glorious than anything we had ever seen. I heard my mother say that she must impress the Spaniards with our infinitely better taste. Poor Elizabeth, in spite of the fact that she was going to be a queen in a Catholic country she stood with a look of cold indifference on her face while she was fitted with the most sumptuously trimmed gowns; and I could not forget the sight of her sad face above all that splendor.
In due course we left for Bordeaux. On some occasions I rode on one side of my mother, Gaston on the other.
I heard two people whispering. I think they were minor attendants. “She thinks the people will so like those two pretty children that they will forget how much they dislike her.”
And there was no doubt that the people liked us. I smiled and lifted my hand in acknowledgment of their cheers just as I had been taught to do.
They cheered Louis too. After all he was the King, and I heard Elizabeth say to Christine that he was too young to have done anything the people did not like.
“All their blame is for our mother and the Maréchal d’Ancre,” said Elizabeth.
I wanted to know more. Why should they blame my mother, and who was the Maréchal d’Ancre, that Concino Concini about whom I had heard people whispering?
Although I hated to learn lessons I was avid to gather information about what was happening around me. The trouble is that when you are six no one considers you seriously enough to talk to you.
We stayed at castles and great houses on the way to Bordeaux and there we were entertained lavishly. Gaston and I were allowed to dance on certain occasions and I sang, for singing was another of my accomplishments and my singing master said I had the voice of a nightingale.
My mother was very pleased with us, and I kept wondering whether it was because she loved us or because it was necessary to make the people pleased with the children she had brought into the royal nurseries so that they would forget those mysterious things she appeared to have done which annoyed them.
However neither Gaston nor I was given to introspection—certainly not at the ages of seven and six; and we were going to enjoy ourselves.
“This is an exciting life!” I said to Gaston; and he agreed wholeheartedly.
In due course we reached Bordeaux.
We were not present at the important ceremony of handing over the two Princesses, but we did dance at the celebrations which followed; and when we left Bordeaux we had lost our sister Elizabeth and had gained a sister-in-law who was known as Anne of Austria and, as she was married to our brother Louis, she was Queen of France.
When we returned to Paris the excitement increased. We had to show Anne of Austria and her attendants how much more cultured we were in France than they were in Spain.
As we came into the city, the narrow streets were crowded with people who had come to see the new Queen. Nobody loves pageantry more than the Parisians and they evidently liked the look of Anne as she rode beside Louis at the head of the cavalcade. She was a tall girl with a good figure and as fair as I was dark. Moreover she was young—just about the same age as Louis. She had beautiful hands, which she was fond of bringing into display, and she seemed very sure of herself. I thought we might get on well together for I had already discovered that she was not very good at learning but enjoyed singing and dancing as much as I did.
We rode past the new house of the Place Royale and the Place Dauphine which my father had caused to be built. I had been watching Anne to see if she was impressed by our grand city. My father had believed in building and he had made great improvements in Paris.
“Ah, Madame la Princesse,” the old ones used to say, “you are lucky to live in such a city. In my day it was a very different place. Thanks to your great father we have now the finest city in the world.”