grant us grace.”
Moments of silence followed in which Rachelle saw each of them locked in their own thoughts, perhaps wondering what the future might ask of them in the battle for truth.
Duchesse Dushane sighed at last, looking thoughtfully from one to the other. “I think, cher ladies that this generation of God’s people will not escape the fiery trial. We will follow the sanctified footsteps of the early Roman Christians. We must prepare our minds to accept suffering. If not . . .”
Rachelle glanced at Idelette, whose determination ref lected in her blue eyes. Grandmère looked tired. Rachelle longed to plant a kiss on her cheek and throw her arms protectively around her. Grandmère had already experienced too much suffering in her years. But who was Rachelle to say it was too much? How much was too much? Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life . . .
Do I have the grace to lay down my life if it is required of me? Rachelle shuddered inside, but outwardly she kept her hands folded, partly to keep her trembling from being noticed.
“Madame, if the House of Guise has its way, then the wars of perse- cution ordered by Spain and Rome will prevail,” Grandmère said. “But perhaps Maître Avenelle is not our betrayer. There is a bonne chance
he will give forth no incriminating evidence against the Huguenot shepherds.”
“We may hope, Henriette, but we dare not suppose. My concern is for Sebastien. If he is named to the duc or the cardinal, then the Bastille or even death may await him.”
Rachelle’s alarm leaped to the forefront. Sebastien! “Oh Madame, this is most distressing.”
“And with cher Madeleine soon expecting her first child.” Grandmère groaned.
“Ah! Ah! Most distressing to be sure,” la duchesse said.
“Apart from the good grace of our Defender, there is naught any of us can do to thwart the deeds of our great enemy. We must pray; we must take upon us the whole armor of God,” Grandmère said.
“How true, Henriette! Catherine will question Maître Avenelle this very afternoon in the council chambers. If one could hear what Avenelle said —”
“Then we must warn Sebastien immediately,” Idelette said.
“If I called for Sebastien to come here, the news would be known by the Guises and Catherine before sunset. Nor can I go to him. It would draw attention. All of my retinue are well-known and watched. I cannot but wonder if somehow my last letter to Prince Condé was discovered, in which I warned him he should not come to court if summoned, for his life is in danger. That is why I called the three of you here to tea. It is most naturel that I should receive kinswomen. It is you who must warn him of Maître Avenelle. He will know what to do to warn the others.”
“Précisément. We will do what we must,” Grandmère said. “We Macquinets go unnoticed. We have come to court from the Silk House for the one purpose only, of sewing for Reinette Mary and Princesse Marguerite.”
The duchesse lifted a sealed envelope from beneath her satin pil- low fringed with gold. “I had thought to send this to Sebastien naming Maître Avenelle, but it is too risky.”
Rachelle watched in silence as she took a lit candle and set the letter aflame.
“Should we not go to Sebastien at once?” Idelette asked.
“It is wiser to wait until we return to our own chambers,” Grandmère said. “We desire no connection with Madame. If only we could think of a reason to call for Sebastien.”
“But Grandmère,” Rachelle said, “we have the perfect reason. You mentioned it on our way here. Sebastien forgot his hat last night.”
“Ah, c’est bien le moment , Rachelle,” la duchesse said approvingly.
“But wait, Henriette, it will appear far more innocent if your grand- daughter returns the hat.”
Grandmère was obviously reluctant.
Rachelle and Idelette looked at one another. “We will both go together,” Idelette said.
“One of you will draw less
Moments of silence followed in which Rachelle saw each of them locked in their own thoughts, perhaps wondering what the future might ask of them in the battle for truth.
Duchesse Dushane sighed at last, looking thoughtfully from one to the other. “I think, cher ladies that this generation of God’s people will not escape the fiery trial. We will follow the sanctified footsteps of the early Roman Christians. We must prepare our minds to accept suffering. If not . . .”
Rachelle glanced at Idelette, whose determination ref lected in her blue eyes. Grandmère looked tired. Rachelle longed to plant a kiss on her cheek and throw her arms protectively around her. Grandmère had already experienced too much suffering in her years. But who was Rachelle to say it was too much? How much was too much? Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life . . .
Do I have the grace to lay down my life if it is required of me? Rachelle shuddered inside, but outwardly she kept her hands folded, partly to keep her trembling from being noticed.
“Madame, if the House of Guise has its way, then the wars of perse- cution ordered by Spain and Rome will prevail,” Grandmère said. “But perhaps Maître Avenelle is not our betrayer. There is a bonne chance
he will give forth no incriminating evidence against the Huguenot shepherds.”
“We may hope, Henriette, but we dare not suppose. My concern is for Sebastien. If he is named to the duc or the cardinal, then the Bastille or even death may await him.”
Rachelle’s alarm leaped to the forefront. Sebastien! “Oh Madame, this is most distressing.”
“And with cher Madeleine soon expecting her first child.” Grandmère groaned.
“Ah! Ah! Most distressing to be sure,” la duchesse said.
“Apart from the good grace of our Defender, there is naught any of us can do to thwart the deeds of our great enemy. We must pray; we must take upon us the whole armor of God,” Grandmère said.
“How true, Henriette! Catherine will question Maître Avenelle this very afternoon in the council chambers. If one could hear what Avenelle said —”
“Then we must warn Sebastien immediately,” Idelette said.
“If I called for Sebastien to come here, the news would be known by the Guises and Catherine before sunset. Nor can I go to him. It would draw attention. All of my retinue are well-known and watched. I cannot but wonder if somehow my last letter to Prince Condé was discovered, in which I warned him he should not come to court if summoned, for his life is in danger. That is why I called the three of you here to tea. It is most naturel that I should receive kinswomen. It is you who must warn him of Maître Avenelle. He will know what to do to warn the others.”
“Précisément. We will do what we must,” Grandmère said. “We Macquinets go unnoticed. We have come to court from the Silk House for the one purpose only, of sewing for Reinette Mary and Princesse Marguerite.”
The duchesse lifted a sealed envelope from beneath her satin pil- low fringed with gold. “I had thought to send this to Sebastien naming Maître Avenelle, but it is too risky.”
Rachelle watched in silence as she took a lit candle and set the letter aflame.
“Should we not go to Sebastien at once?” Idelette asked.
“It is wiser to wait until we return to our own chambers,” Grandmère said. “We desire no connection with Madame. If only we could think of a reason to call for Sebastien.”
“But Grandmère,” Rachelle said, “we have the perfect reason. You mentioned it on our way here. Sebastien forgot his hat last night.”
“Ah, c’est bien le moment , Rachelle,” la duchesse said approvingly.
“But wait, Henriette, it will appear far more innocent if your grand- daughter returns the hat.”
Grandmère was obviously reluctant.
Rachelle and Idelette looked at one another. “We will both go together,” Idelette said.
“One of you will draw less
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