Read Online Prophecy (2011) by S. J. Parris - Free Book Online Page B

pretender Elizabeth - there is only one path left to us now!’ He thumps the table again for good measure so that the plates rattle.
    ‘As I recall,’ Castelnau says stiffly, maintaining his composure, ‘you were my greatest ally not so long ago when it came to the marriage negotiations between your queen and my king’s brother.’
    ‘For the sake of appearance. But that was doomed before it began.’ Howard waves an arm in grand dismissal. ‘The Duke of Anjou never really wanted to marry Elizabeth - she’s at least twenty years older than him, for pity’s sake. I mean - would you ?’ He looks at the men around him, inviting scorn; Douglas responds with a lascivious cackle. ‘And the minute she sniffed her subjects’ unrest at the idea,’ Howard continues, ‘she sent him packing. She will make no marriage now - and even if she does, it will never be with a Catholic prince. She has seen where that leads.’
    ‘Nor will she have an heir now, at the age of fifty,’ Marie de Castelnau points out, scorn in her voice. ‘France’s best hope is to put Mary Stuart on the throne of England and from there let her work on her son as a mother and as a Catholic sovereign, to bring him back to his natural obedience. Et voila! ‘ She holds her hands out to us with a delighted smile, as if she has performed a conjuring trick, though her hands are empty. ‘The whole island united again under Rome.’
    ‘ Et voila ?’ I look at her, incredulous. ‘Problem solved? You talk as if they were chess pieces - move this one here, take this one off the board, let this one see he is threatened. Fin de partie. Is it so simple, madame, do you think?’
    Marie presses her lips together until they turn white, but she returns my stare, defiant. Howard glares.
    ‘You presume to speak -‘ he splutters, but Castelnau holds up a hand. He looks tired.
    ‘Go on, Bruno,’ he says gently. ‘You have hardly spoken. I would like to hear what you have to say. You knew King Henri’s mind as well as any of his councillors.’
    I can feel Fowler’s eyes on me. Without turning in his direction, I know he is willing me to be circumspect, not to compromise my privileged position at this table by appearing hostile. Yet Castelnau expects me to be outspoken; he would be suspicious if I did not take the role of devil’s advocate, I think.
    ‘I say only that these queens are not dolls to be moved around at will.’ As I say it, I have a sudden image of the Elizabeth doll clutched in the dead hand of Cecily Ashe, the needle sticking from its breast. I shudder; the memory makes me falter. ‘This glorious reunification under Rome could not be achieved without great bloodshed in England. I hear no one mention that.’
    ‘Such things are taken for granted, you damned fool,’ Howard growls.
    ‘Do you make bread without crushing the grain?’ Marie says, half-smiling, still pinning me with her stare. She has neat, white teeth; it seems she is not afraid to use them.
    ‘The Queen of the Scots will not shy away from spilling blood when it suits her, I assure you,’ Douglas declares confidently to the room, rousing himself from his own thoughts to pour another large glass of wine, which he drinks off almost in one go. ‘Now, I could tell you a story about the Queen of the Scots.’ He laughs into his empty glass.
    ‘Really? Is it the one about the pie?’ Courcelles says, with a stagey roll of the eyes.
    ‘Aye.’ Douglas’s eyes light up. ‘After her husband died, there was a great feast -‘
    Courcelles holds up a hand.
    ‘Perhaps on another occasion. I think Madame de Castelnau might not appreciate it.’
    ‘Oh. Aye. Sorry.’ Douglas glances at Marie and touches his fringe with a self-mocking grimace.
    A brief, uncomfortable silence follows; everyone turns to look at him and I sense that I have missed something. A glance passes between Marie and Henry Howard but I cannot read its meaning. Her cheeks are flushed with excitement among the moving