Read Online The Agincourt Bride by Joanna Hickson - Free Book Online Page B

– when there was a commotion on the tower stair. The door of the day nursery flew open to admit a richly dressed lady shadowed by a large female servant in apron and coif, not unlike my own. I sprang to my feet and hovered protectively over the children, who looked up in fright.
    ‘I am Marie, Duchess of Bourbon,’ the newcomer announced, without smile or greeting and only the merest glance to show that her words were addressed to me.
    I backed away and dropped to my knees, my apprehension rising rapidly as she continued speaking. ‘His grace of Burgundy has requested me to make arrangements for the care of the king’s children.’
    The mention of Burgundy rang loud alarm bells in my head. ‘Y-yes, Madame,’ I stuttered.
    Catherine heard the name Burgundy and the tremor in my voice and her gaze swivelled in panic from me to the grand visitor. ‘No!’ she cried, instinctively sensing danger. ‘No, Mette. Make them go away.’
    Marie of Bourbon glided forward and knelt by Catherine’s stool. With a smile and a touch she tried to reassure the trembling child. ‘Do not be frightened, my little one,’ she cooed. ‘There is nothing to fear. Your name is Catherine, is it not? Well, Catherine, you are a very lucky girl. You are going to a beautiful abbey where kind nuns will look after you and you will be safe. You will like that, will you not?’
    Catherine was not fooled by a soft voice and a tender touch. ‘No! No, I want to stay with Mette.’ Like a whirlwind, she jumped off her stool and ran to my side, closely followed by little Charles, curds dribbling down his chin.
    Still on my knees, I put my arms around them, tears springing to my eyes. ‘I am sorry, Madame,’ I gulped, avoiding the lady’s gaze. ‘There has been much upheaval in their lives lately and I am all they know.’
    Marie of Bourbon rose and her tone became brisk as her patience grew thin. ‘That may be, but these are no ordinary children. They have been woefully neglected and it is time they were given the training they need and deserve. I will be taking Charles with me now. He is my father’s godson and he is to live in his household and receive the proper education for a prince. You are to prepare Catherine for her journey to Poissy Abbey. She will be leaving tomorrow morning.’ She waved an imperious hand at her servant. ‘Get the boy. We are leaving.’
    Before he realised what was happening, Charles was swept up in a pair of sturdy arms. He set up a shrill screech and began to kick and struggle, but the woman had been picked for her strength and his puny efforts were stolidly ignored.
    ‘No! Put him down!’ Catherine screamed and ran at the woman, swinging on her arm and trying unsuccessfully to dislodge her brother. With tears of fear and frustration, the little girl turned to me. ‘Mette, don’t let them take him! Help him!’
    Miserably, I shook my head and wrung my hands. What could I do? Who was I against the might of Burgundy, Bourbon and Berry? Our last sight of Charles was of his agonised, curd-spattered face and his outstretched hands as his captor descended the stairs but the sound of his screams persisted, punctuated by Catherine’s sobs. Marie of Bourbon’s cheeks were flushed and her expression grim as she stood in the doorway and gave me final instructions, raising her voice above the commotion.
    ‘I will come for Catherine at the same time tomorrow. See that she is prepared to leave. I do not want any more scenes like this. They are vulgar and unpleasant and not good for the children.’
    ‘Yes, Madame.’
    I had bowed my head dutifully, but my deference disguised a mind whirling with wildrebellious notions. Could I whisk Catherine off to the bake house and raise her as my own child? Could I flee with her to some remote village? Could I take her to the queen? But even as these ideas flashed through my mind, I knew that no such course of action was feasible. Catherine was the king’s daughter, a crown asset.