Read Online The Queen and the Courtesan by Freda Lightfoot - Free Book Online
Authors: Freda Lightfoot
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you that my keenest desire is to see you and have you near me. Believe it, mistress mine, and believe that every month will seem to me a century. I received a letter in French from you this morning; if you wrote it without help, you are already a great mistress of the language.
Marie had spent the last few months refreshing her language skills and quickly regained command of French, determined to be able to converse properly with her husband and be a useful wife to him. She felt excited at the prospect of meeting Henry, and yet nervous. Would he like her? It was one thing to approve of a miniature portrait, but quite another matter to like the living, breathing person. And could he ever come to love her? she wondered.
The King had already shown himself to be kind, sending her dolls dressed in the fashion of the French ladies, and offering the services of good needlewomen, perhaps in order to ease her reception into his country. He begged a favour of hers to wear in his campaigns in Savoy, and replied the day he received it.
I thank you, my beautiful mistress, for the present you have sent me. I shall fix it to my headgear if we have a fight, and give a few sword thrusts for love of you.
Unbeknown to Marie, he wrote also to Henriette, who was in Lyons. On 11 October he sent his mistress two letters, apologizing for the fact that he would not see her before Sunday, and that the wait would seem longer to him than it would to her.
My Dear Heart, Since I could not kiss you, I have kissed your letter a thousand times. You may be sure I shall have much to say to you. It could not be otherwise, as we are so well together . . . But this is too much talk . . . Goodnight, heart of mine; I kiss and kiss thee again a million times.
Henry was engaged in further campaigns against Savoy during September and October and his next letter to his wife urged her to hurry to him as soon as the ceremony was completed, reassuring her of his love. He finished by saying she must take every care of her health, as was he by drinking the mineral waters. This brought a smile to Marieâs face as she imagined a strong king fighting in a brutal war, yet worrying about his health, or more likely perhaps, their age difference. She knew Henry of Navarre to be a fine figure of a man and did not see this as a problem.
Lastly, he promised to send his closest friend, Bellegarde, to be with her at the proxy wedding.
But I shall be with you in spirit, if not in person.
The Duc de Bellegarde, Grand Equerry of France, together with an entourage of forty nobles, reached Livorno on the twentieth of September. Seven days later he entered Florence, and on 6 October 1600, the proxy wedding took place, the Grand Duke Ferdinand himself standing in for the absent husband. His Eminence made his entry on horseback beneath a canopy held high by eight young Florentine nobles, preceded by all the ecclesiastical and secular bodies, sixteen prelates, and fifty gentlemen bearing halberds.
Marie wore a gown of gold filigree on white satin with draped sleeves and a lace ruff about her neck, and at her wrists. Her glorious shining brown hair, tastefully ornamented with pearls, was caught up away from a face even more pale than usual; a matching string hanging low over the neatly fitted bodice. The Pontiff himself pronounced the blessing, to which the bride replied with grace and dignity, and the sweetest of smiles.
There was the usual celebration of High Mass, then the Duke of Bellegarde led the Princess to the right hand of the legate. The Grand Duke, placing himself upon his left, presented his Eminence with the procuration by which he was authorized to espouse his niece in the name of the King. The document was read aloud by a prelate, the authority given by the Pope for the solemnization of the marriage, and the remainder of the nuptial service carried out with all due majesty, followed by several rounds of gunshot.
Marie felt a mix of fear and excitement
Marie had spent the last few months refreshing her language skills and quickly regained command of French, determined to be able to converse properly with her husband and be a useful wife to him. She felt excited at the prospect of meeting Henry, and yet nervous. Would he like her? It was one thing to approve of a miniature portrait, but quite another matter to like the living, breathing person. And could he ever come to love her? she wondered.
The King had already shown himself to be kind, sending her dolls dressed in the fashion of the French ladies, and offering the services of good needlewomen, perhaps in order to ease her reception into his country. He begged a favour of hers to wear in his campaigns in Savoy, and replied the day he received it.
I thank you, my beautiful mistress, for the present you have sent me. I shall fix it to my headgear if we have a fight, and give a few sword thrusts for love of you.
Unbeknown to Marie, he wrote also to Henriette, who was in Lyons. On 11 October he sent his mistress two letters, apologizing for the fact that he would not see her before Sunday, and that the wait would seem longer to him than it would to her.
My Dear Heart, Since I could not kiss you, I have kissed your letter a thousand times. You may be sure I shall have much to say to you. It could not be otherwise, as we are so well together . . . But this is too much talk . . . Goodnight, heart of mine; I kiss and kiss thee again a million times.
Henry was engaged in further campaigns against Savoy during September and October and his next letter to his wife urged her to hurry to him as soon as the ceremony was completed, reassuring her of his love. He finished by saying she must take every care of her health, as was he by drinking the mineral waters. This brought a smile to Marieâs face as she imagined a strong king fighting in a brutal war, yet worrying about his health, or more likely perhaps, their age difference. She knew Henry of Navarre to be a fine figure of a man and did not see this as a problem.
Lastly, he promised to send his closest friend, Bellegarde, to be with her at the proxy wedding.
But I shall be with you in spirit, if not in person.
The Duc de Bellegarde, Grand Equerry of France, together with an entourage of forty nobles, reached Livorno on the twentieth of September. Seven days later he entered Florence, and on 6 October 1600, the proxy wedding took place, the Grand Duke Ferdinand himself standing in for the absent husband. His Eminence made his entry on horseback beneath a canopy held high by eight young Florentine nobles, preceded by all the ecclesiastical and secular bodies, sixteen prelates, and fifty gentlemen bearing halberds.
Marie wore a gown of gold filigree on white satin with draped sleeves and a lace ruff about her neck, and at her wrists. Her glorious shining brown hair, tastefully ornamented with pearls, was caught up away from a face even more pale than usual; a matching string hanging low over the neatly fitted bodice. The Pontiff himself pronounced the blessing, to which the bride replied with grace and dignity, and the sweetest of smiles.
There was the usual celebration of High Mass, then the Duke of Bellegarde led the Princess to the right hand of the legate. The Grand Duke, placing himself upon his left, presented his Eminence with the procuration by which he was authorized to espouse his niece in the name of the King. The document was read aloud by a prelate, the authority given by the Pope for the solemnization of the marriage, and the remainder of the nuptial service carried out with all due majesty, followed by several rounds of gunshot.
Marie felt a mix of fear and excitement
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