Daughter of Silk by Linda Lee Chaikin Page A

père and his cousine Bernard had oft spoken of the House of Guise and their misplaced religious zeal in wish- ing to kill “heretics.”
    “Since the death of King Henry, with his son Francis on the throne, and Mary a blood niece of the Guises, they grow more powerful. I have sat in the Queen Mother’s cercle and seen her eyes turn cold when either monsieur walks into the chamber. She knows they are using Mary to influence Francis in ways she cannot. Already, the duc has appointed himself head of the military.
    “Appointed himself, Madame?” Grandmère cried. “It is unthink-
    able. The gall!”
    “And that is the beginning. The cardinal has appointed himself head of the treasury of France.”
    Rachelle lifted her brows. “The treasury? But — ”
    “But! That too is fitting.” La duchesse’s lips curled. “He will doubtless profit from his action — again, for he is already one of the wealthiest men in all of France. The state church is rich, and he sits in control over it.”
    “And the Queen Mother?” Grandmère asked gravely.
    “Catherine plots her Machiavellian intrigues, waiting in silence for her day of dark revenge. That is my perception.”
    Rachelle believed her, for the duchesse was exceedingly well situated to know this.
    “All of this, and Maître Avenelle, what does it mean?” Grandmère furrowed her brow.
    “There is a balance of power presently at court between Catherine and the Guises. Catherine fears them because Philip of Spain supports them in all they do, as does Rome. Both have given a command to Catherine to rid France of her heretics, else they will do it for her. That would mean her removal as regent, but far worse, the removal of her sons from inheriting the throne of France in favor of le Duc de Guise. If Maître Avenelle knows of some cause for which the Guises can move against the Huguenots and their political defenders, the House of Bourbon — then Guise may have brought Avenelle here to reveal the matter to Catherine.”
    Rachelle’s heart was thumping in her ears. “Then Her Majesty would be forced to move against us.”
    “Such is my belief — and it is the belief of the Bourbon princes and nobles.”
    Rachelle, who had heard details of the tortures inflicted upon the Protestants in the Netherlands through the visiting theology students from Geneva, found the thought of Spain ruling France horrifying. She saw the same thoughts ref lected in the attentive face of Idelette.
    “You see, mes amies, do you not, where this brings us as Huguenots?” la duchesse said.
    “These matters are debated and discussed fervently at the Chateau de Silk when Arnaut and Clair are home, I promise you,” Grandmère said. “I lost my son Louis to the f lames. He was one of the Lyon martyrs some years ago.”
    “Ah — yes, yes . . .”
    “Père’s cousine Bernard Macquinet was trained as a minister under John Calvin at the Geneva Theology school,” Idelette said, “so we know
    of these things, Madame Duchesse, yet we never cease to marvel at the ways of the Evil One.”
    Rachelle leaned forward, heedful, adding: “Students from Geneva oft come to us at the chateau on their way to edify the small house-churches throughout France. The brothers stay and rest with us a few days before going on their way. But we must not forget we have friends in France, the vassals of Prince Condé, our Huguenot army, who, at a moment’s call from the prince and Admiral Coligny, can form a strong defense.”
    “Ah yes, and have done so in the past,” the duchesse said. “Yet, do also consider the even larger army available to le Duc de Guise. My spies tell me the Spanish ambassador has promised him several thousand experienced soldiers from their wars of inquisition in the Netherlands.” “I hardly fathom it, Madame.” Grandmère shook her head in obvious
    dismay. “It is not pleasant to think of, but we must, I know.” “We live in trying times, Henriette.”
    “Indeed, Madame, and may God