Idelette’s situation is very different, Queen Jeanne could have assisted her.”
Andelot grew tenser by the moment. So much was happening of which he’d not been informed. “What has happened to Mademoiselle Idelette? You speak of a tragedy?”
“It is well that you know. I realize now that you have strong feelings for both Rachelle and Idelette. The incident took place during the church burning in Lyon. Avril Macquinet, their petite sister, as you know, was killed, but what we did not know, was that Idelette — well, I shall be blunt — was violated. She is expecting a child.”
Andelot stood in stunned silence. What! Idelette? The lovely, pious Idelette, whom he secretly felt was far above him on a pedestal, was now expecting a child. That she should endure such a thing kindled his rage.
“Madame, if I knew who committed this outrage against her, I myself would hunt him down.”
“Mon cher, sit down,” she said gently. “That you are outraged at the dishonor done to her pleases me, and I know it would please her if she knew, but the soldier who did this is most likely dead.”
He looked at her in doubt, thinking she was appeasing him. “A soldier in Duc de Guise’s men-at-arms?”
“Yes. There was an incident soon after the church burning that took place at an inn near the Château de Silk, in which the marquis and his chief page encountered two soldiers boasting of the church burning. I do not know the details, but the lettre from Rachelle tells me a swordfight ensued and the soldier was killed.”
Expecting a child . . . Idelette. How alone she must feel in this, angry, afraid, helpless —He came aware that the duchesse watched him curiously. He pulled his emotions together and bowed.
“Adieu, Madame.”
“Yes, and godspeed, Andelot.”
A SHORT TIME LATER, Andelot slipped back into the study-chamber, shutting the heavy wooden door in silence. He went straight to his sleeping chamber and stood still for a minute while mixed emotions filled his mind. That she would love the marquis and marry him was inevitable. I knew it would happen. He had not lost Rachelle. She was never his to lose, he told himself again firmly.
And Idelette . . . He shook his head with anger and grief and sat down on his bunk, head lowered for some time thinking and praying for her. What would happen to Idelette?
Some minutes later, after praying about his troubles and disappointments, he got up and went into the study-chamber again, glancing about for Scholar Thauvet. He was still out.
Andelot looked around the chamber until his gaze moved to the wall of books. He froze as he saw the volumes that protruded a little, hinting at his hiding place. He should have been more careful!
He swiftly removed the volumes and reached behind to retrieve the Bible. His fingers closed about the leather binding. He drew it down, stuffing it under his tunic.
He peered over his shoulder. The fire had burned low, with glowing embers on the grate projecting moving forms on the far walls where large comfortable reading chairs were grouped.
Was he mistaken? Andelot squinted to see if he could make out Thauvet’s form, seated with graying beard, a book on his lap.
He called out in the dimness, “ Maître Thauvet? Is that you?”
There was no answer.
It must be these shadows — weaved by sinister forces . And Romier and his antics!
He stepped back and went quickly to his sleeping chamber and packed his satchel. He took one last look about. He left the chamber as he had anticipated, unseen by probing eyes.
IT MUST HAVE BEEN after midnight when Andelot departed from Fontainebleau with assistance from one of the duchesse’s friends in the royal guards and Page Romier.
“So you will not have me come with you?” Romier whispered, scowling beneath his pointed hat, the tassel swinging in the breeze.
“Non, mon ami, but I will have much to tell you when I return.”
Romier’s scowl deepened. “And I, your loyal ami. Why do I not come
Andelot grew tenser by the moment. So much was happening of which he’d not been informed. “What has happened to Mademoiselle Idelette? You speak of a tragedy?”
“It is well that you know. I realize now that you have strong feelings for both Rachelle and Idelette. The incident took place during the church burning in Lyon. Avril Macquinet, their petite sister, as you know, was killed, but what we did not know, was that Idelette — well, I shall be blunt — was violated. She is expecting a child.”
Andelot stood in stunned silence. What! Idelette? The lovely, pious Idelette, whom he secretly felt was far above him on a pedestal, was now expecting a child. That she should endure such a thing kindled his rage.
“Madame, if I knew who committed this outrage against her, I myself would hunt him down.”
“Mon cher, sit down,” she said gently. “That you are outraged at the dishonor done to her pleases me, and I know it would please her if she knew, but the soldier who did this is most likely dead.”
He looked at her in doubt, thinking she was appeasing him. “A soldier in Duc de Guise’s men-at-arms?”
“Yes. There was an incident soon after the church burning that took place at an inn near the Château de Silk, in which the marquis and his chief page encountered two soldiers boasting of the church burning. I do not know the details, but the lettre from Rachelle tells me a swordfight ensued and the soldier was killed.”
Expecting a child . . . Idelette. How alone she must feel in this, angry, afraid, helpless —He came aware that the duchesse watched him curiously. He pulled his emotions together and bowed.
“Adieu, Madame.”
“Yes, and godspeed, Andelot.”
A SHORT TIME LATER, Andelot slipped back into the study-chamber, shutting the heavy wooden door in silence. He went straight to his sleeping chamber and stood still for a minute while mixed emotions filled his mind. That she would love the marquis and marry him was inevitable. I knew it would happen. He had not lost Rachelle. She was never his to lose, he told himself again firmly.
And Idelette . . . He shook his head with anger and grief and sat down on his bunk, head lowered for some time thinking and praying for her. What would happen to Idelette?
Some minutes later, after praying about his troubles and disappointments, he got up and went into the study-chamber again, glancing about for Scholar Thauvet. He was still out.
Andelot looked around the chamber until his gaze moved to the wall of books. He froze as he saw the volumes that protruded a little, hinting at his hiding place. He should have been more careful!
He swiftly removed the volumes and reached behind to retrieve the Bible. His fingers closed about the leather binding. He drew it down, stuffing it under his tunic.
He peered over his shoulder. The fire had burned low, with glowing embers on the grate projecting moving forms on the far walls where large comfortable reading chairs were grouped.
Was he mistaken? Andelot squinted to see if he could make out Thauvet’s form, seated with graying beard, a book on his lap.
He called out in the dimness, “ Maître Thauvet? Is that you?”
There was no answer.
It must be these shadows — weaved by sinister forces . And Romier and his antics!
He stepped back and went quickly to his sleeping chamber and packed his satchel. He took one last look about. He left the chamber as he had anticipated, unseen by probing eyes.
IT MUST HAVE BEEN after midnight when Andelot departed from Fontainebleau with assistance from one of the duchesse’s friends in the royal guards and Page Romier.
“So you will not have me come with you?” Romier whispered, scowling beneath his pointed hat, the tassel swinging in the breeze.
“Non, mon ami, but I will have much to tell you when I return.”
Romier’s scowl deepened. “And I, your loyal ami. Why do I not come
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