The Red Rose of Anjou by Jean Plaidy Page A

news of her father, but the months passed and there was nothing. There was less danger now of the English raiding the land, for fortune was favouring the French and the situation was very different from the way it had been when Joan of Arc had come from her village to talk to the King.
    One year passed and then another and still no news from Naples.
    ‘A crown is not easily gained,’ said Yolande. ‘Your father is short of money and I do not believe he is the greatest general in the world. If only he were half as good a soldier as he is a painter it might be a different story.’
    Then there was exciting news, but not of René.
    The King had sent word that it was long since he had seen his mother-in-law. He was, if she would receive him, thinking of paying her a visit.
    Yolande was beside herself with delight; and almost immediately apprehensive. A royal visit! It must be conducted in a fitting manner and that meant that they must begin to prepare at once.
    It should take place at the castle of Angers which would be more suitable than Saumur. She would see her dear daughter again but Margaret sensed that the one she really cared about was the King.
    For several weeks there was no talk of anything but the coming visit. The castle was cleaned from the tallest turret to the lowest dungeon although as Theophanie grumbled it was hardly likely that the King would go there. She herself would be glad to see young Marie again, but she reckoned she had changed a lot since nursery days. All those children she had had and a Queen too. Oh, she expected to see changes in Marie.
    It did her good though to see the lady Yolande so pleased with life. Just of late she had imagined that my lady was getting a Little tired, feeling her age. If she did it would be the first time in her life that she had—but that was what worried Theophanie.
    There must be new clothes for them all. Margaret must stand still while rich materials were fitted on her. She had never felt so grown up in her life before.
    Then came the great day.
    The watchers on the tower gave the signal. The cavalcade was sighted. Everyone was to be ready now to greet them, to let them know what a great honour this was.
    Yolande stood at the gates of the castle, Margaret beside her. The heralds blew their trumpets and there were the King and the Queen and a brilliant company of ladies and gentlemen.
    The King dismounted. Yolande went on her knees, and Margaret did the same.
    ‘Rise, rise, my lady,’ said the King. ‘It does me good to see you. I have missed your company.’
    And there was the Queen, Margaret’s aunt Marie. She embraced Yolande, and then Margaret was presented to her and the King.
    She was too nervous to look at them closely and too busy remembering all she had been taught she must do, but she did have time to glance at the King and she thought he did not seem very much like a King. He was not very handsome. His nose fascinated her; it seemed to hang right over his mouth. However, he spoke very gently to her and she believed that in spite of his unprepossessing appearance he was kind.
    And then as Yolande was about to lead them into the hall she noticed someone else. Her hand was taken and held firmly. She turned and looked up into a beautiful and half familiar face. For a moment she was unsure and then she murmured: ‘Agnès.’
    ‘Yes, it is Agnès. Oh Margaret, how you have grown.’
    ‘You have changed too.’
    A strange look came over Agnès’s face. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I have, have I not?’
    There was no time for more talk as they followed the party into the hall.
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    It was a visit Margaret felt that she would never forget. She had never known such entertaining at Angers before. But of course she had not. She had never known what it was like when the King came to visit. Yolande had said that there should be all the splendour of the past in Angers on the occasion of the King’s visit and she had certainly kept her word about that. The banquets,