CATHERINE CAME stealthily into Lady Fleming’s chamber. Janet rose from the bed on which she was lying and fell to her knees before the Queen of France. She lifted fearful eyes to the flat expressionless face.
“You may rise,” said Catherine. She laughed suddenly. “We should not have known yet,” she added, “had you not boasted so freely.”
“Your Majesty, I implore your forgiveness….”
The Queen lifted her shoulders. “The King chose to honor you. You should not ask my forgiveness for that. How many times?”
“Your Majesty…”
“How many times?” insisted the Queen. Again that laugh. “So many that you cannot remember? It began on the night of the masque which I arranged. Well, now Madame de Valentinois has returned, and your services are no longer required.”
“Your Majesty, I will be content to obey your command.”
“My command is that you leave the Court this night.”
“Leave the Court…”
“Have no fear. Arrangements have been made. Remember you carry a royal bastard. You will be cared for and doubtless the child will be brought to Court. The King, as you have doubtless heard, had a child by a girl of Piedmont. It happened when he was away from France. You understand? The blood is hot and there is always some wanton at hand who can amuse for an hour until something better can be found.” The Queen laughed again. “It is the way of all men, my dear Lady Fleming, and kings are no exceptions.”
Janet covered her face with her hands and began to cry. “Madame,” she sobbed, “I beg of you, let me stay. I have been sent here to guard the Queen of Scots.”
“I have another guardian for her. Do not weep so. It is bad for the child. Be prepared to leave in an hour. Where you are going you will have women to talk to. You may tell them how you were got with child by a most exalted person, but you shall not mention his name although you may describe all else in detail.”
The door opened and Mary stood on the threshold.
“I have looked everywhere—” she began, and saw the Queen of France. She immediately curtsied.
“Ah,” said Catherine, “here is her Scottish Majesty.”
“I … I had no idea that I should find you here, Madame,” said Mary. “I came to look for Fleming.”
“You are just in time to say good-bye to her.”
“Good-bye!”
Mary forgot ceremony. She ran to her aunt and threw her arms about her.
“Dearest Aunt Janet, what does this mean?”
“I… I … I am going away.”
“Oh, no, no!” cried Mary. “Is it… because of the King’s child?”
Catherine interrupted. “So the Queen of Scots shares the knowledge of your lechery?”
Mary said: “Madame, Lady Fleming is my governess.”
“No longer, my child.”
“No longer!”
“Lady Fleming is no longer considered a person fit to hold that position.”
“But who says so?”
“I say so.”
“Madame, Lady Fleming is my aunt.”
“We all have our disreputable relations. Pray do not apologize for her.”
“I … I wish to have her with me.”
“My dear Reinette, you are in the charge of the King and myself and we have decided otherwise.”
“I… I do not understand.”
“I am glad of that. I had feared that under the influence of your lecherous relative you might have become quite depraved.”
“Please, Madame, do not torment us.”
“I? I have nothing but your welfare at heart. Young girls can quickly fall into trouble, particularly if they are fairly handsome and have a good opinion of themselves. I have a new governess for you. She will come to you this day. You will be pleased to hear that Madame de Paroy is taking over those duties which Lady Fleming has proved unworthy to perform.” The Queen smiled and turned to Lady Fleming. “In an hour—do not forget.” And to Mary: “Madame de Paroy will be with you shortly.”
The Queen walked out of the room and Lady Fleming threw herself on to her bed and gave way to wild weeping.
Mary stood still, her face white and angry, staring at the door.
THE QUEEN OF FRANCE brought the woman into the apartment. Madame de Paroy could not hide her satisfaction, and the Queen was smiling blandly.
“Ah, Madame de Paroy, here are your charges.”
The four little girls had arranged themselves behind Mary.
“The Queen of Scots waits to welcome you,” said Catherine.
Mary’s eyes were sullen. She had seen the King. She had entreated him not to send Lady Fleming away and had begged him not to put Madame de Paroy in her place. The King was as kind as he always was; but he was ill at ease. He had said very kindly that such matters were the business of ladies. It was not his province to appoint a governess for his dear daughter of Scotland. He wished to please her, he wished to make her happy; but he was sure the Queen had the same intentions towards her. It had been necessary for her Scots governess to go away—there were matters beyond the understanding of little girls—and she must trust her guardians to do what was best for her.
In despair Mary had sought out Diane. Diane received her with the utmost affection.
“My dearest child,” said the King’s mistress, “there are matters which you are too young to understand. Lady Fleming has to leave Court, and Queen Catherine would deeply resent any interference in this matter of choosing your governess. She has your well-being at heart. You may trust her to do what is best for you.”
Mary sensed that neither the King nor Diane were really giving her their attention, and she realized suddenly how impotent she was. They had petted her because it had been easy to pet her, and she had acquired an opinion of herself which was too exalted. She was but a child here as she had been in Scotland; she was at the mercy of the grown-up world, and the love which these charming people had given her was only a minute part of their lives.
She was thinking of these things as she advanced to greet the Queen and Madame de Paroy.
“We wish you to smile for Madame de Paroy,” said Catherine.
But Mary would not or could not smile. Her lips froze; she could only glower at the ugly figure of the new governess. Catherine took Mary’s ear and pinched it hard. She smiled as she did so.
“The Queen of Scotland has much to learn, Madame de Paroy,” said the Queen.
Mary wanted to scream because of the pain in her ear. She felt all alone. The King and Diane were riding away from her. They were leaving her to the mercy of these women.
“I have found it necessary,” went on Catherine, “to chastise my own sons, knowing that one day they may be Kings of France. Kings… Queens … all have to learn their lessons, and when pride grows to abnormal proportions it can best be subdued with a stick. There is nothing like a stick applied to the body to drive away a false sense of superiority. Do you agree with me, Madame de Paroy?”
“I do indeed, Your Majesty.”
“Now,” said Catherine, “a smile of welcome for your new governess.”
Mary opened her lips showing her pretty teeth. She had to free her ear or cry out with the pain.
“Hmmm” said Catherine, “not a very bright smile. But it will suffice for the present.”
Mary was repeating under her breath: “Vulgar… beast… tradesman’s daughter … no true Queen … I hate you.”
She would say it aloud when she was alone with her Marys.
She was looking at the Queen and the new governess through a haze of tears. Catherine was well satisfied. The Queen of Scotland had just begun to learn what it meant to pit her puny strength against that of the Queen of France.