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Authors: Freda Lightfoot
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never entirely recovered from that illness in Pau. She blamed the Queen for this too, Margot having most casually abandoned her there.
Now she saw her opportunity for revenge.
Rebours put on her most modest attire and went to see Aubigné. With artful cunning she was careful not to attack the King, but instead pleaded for the chamberlain’s advice.
‘I know not how best to proceed. The King is clearly desirous of an heir, and yet Her Majesty spends most nights with her new lover, Champvallon. Not only that, but she seems to be encouraging her brother to steal the affections of the King’s beloved Fosseuse from him. I really do not see how I can stop her from behaving so recklessly. I feel I should do something to help His Majesty, but cannot think what.’ At which point she burst into floods of dramatic tears.
Aubigné was unmoved by her weeping, made no attempt to comfort her, yet white hot rage flooded through him. How dare that Jezebel, that Whore of Babylon so betray his sovereign lord? No wonder the King was obliged to seek comfort elsewhere when his own wife refused to do her duty by him.
‘Say nothing, woman. Do nothing. You can safely leave this matter in my hands.’
Rebours slipped quietly away, dark eyes gleaming with triumph.
Aubigné knew better than to seek an audience with the King. Henry’s attitude towards love had ever been cavalier, to say the least. He went straight to the Queen, insisting upon an immediate audience.
Margot dutifully granted him admission. The wily pastor could tell by her dishabille, and the sickly sweet scent of the room overlaid by the smell of something far more erotic, that her lover must have only recently vacated her apartment, perhaps seconds before.
‘Your Majesty, I would speak with you on a most urgent and delicate matter.’
‘Indeed?’
‘You will appreciate how vital it is that our lord King produce an heir, and yet sadly you have both been disappointed in this respect thus far.’
Colour flooded into Margot’s cheeks. This was a worry she buried deep inside, and really had no wish to examine too closely. ‘How dare you raise such a topic with me!’
‘I would be failing in my duty to God and the kingdom, if I did not do so. It is clear that you and the King do not often enough . . .’ Aubigné paused to cough politely and clear his throat. ‘How can I put it? It is the will of God that marriage is for the purpose of procreation, yet you and the King do not often enough avail yourself of the opportunity to bring about this most happy result.’
Margot was furious. She glared into the man’s mean little eyes above his jutting nose and fat, bearded chin. ‘How dare you speak to me in this manner! Pray leave my presence at once.’
Aubigné remained firmly rooted to the spot. ‘I am aware of the King’s indiscretions, and how difficult it must be to achieve any intimacy between you as a result. Nevertheless, it would perhaps be wise if you were to refrain from following his lead quite so ardently, and concentrate instead on doing your duty as queen of this realm, even if ...’ The unspoken end to this sentence seemed to hang in the air between them … even if you have no morals.
Margot stared at him, too stunned by the man’s effrontery to think of a suitable response.
‘The danger is that you may find there are other ladies – younger, and mayhap more fecund, who would not hesitate to take your place in this respect.’
‘Is that meant to be some sort of threat?’ The prospect of divorce suddenly reared its ugly head in Margot’s startled mind. With divorce came disgrace, loss of status, penury perhaps, and even, God help her, a nunnery.
‘It is but a timely warning I recommend you heed. I would suggest that Your Majesty give this matter most careful thought.’ Having had his say, he sketched a bow and departed. Margot stamped her foot, let out a scream of fury, and, calling at once for her ladies, started to tear off her
Now she saw her opportunity for revenge.
Rebours put on her most modest attire and went to see Aubigné. With artful cunning she was careful not to attack the King, but instead pleaded for the chamberlain’s advice.
‘I know not how best to proceed. The King is clearly desirous of an heir, and yet Her Majesty spends most nights with her new lover, Champvallon. Not only that, but she seems to be encouraging her brother to steal the affections of the King’s beloved Fosseuse from him. I really do not see how I can stop her from behaving so recklessly. I feel I should do something to help His Majesty, but cannot think what.’ At which point she burst into floods of dramatic tears.
Aubigné was unmoved by her weeping, made no attempt to comfort her, yet white hot rage flooded through him. How dare that Jezebel, that Whore of Babylon so betray his sovereign lord? No wonder the King was obliged to seek comfort elsewhere when his own wife refused to do her duty by him.
‘Say nothing, woman. Do nothing. You can safely leave this matter in my hands.’
Rebours slipped quietly away, dark eyes gleaming with triumph.
Aubigné knew better than to seek an audience with the King. Henry’s attitude towards love had ever been cavalier, to say the least. He went straight to the Queen, insisting upon an immediate audience.
Margot dutifully granted him admission. The wily pastor could tell by her dishabille, and the sickly sweet scent of the room overlaid by the smell of something far more erotic, that her lover must have only recently vacated her apartment, perhaps seconds before.
‘Your Majesty, I would speak with you on a most urgent and delicate matter.’
‘Indeed?’
‘You will appreciate how vital it is that our lord King produce an heir, and yet sadly you have both been disappointed in this respect thus far.’
Colour flooded into Margot’s cheeks. This was a worry she buried deep inside, and really had no wish to examine too closely. ‘How dare you raise such a topic with me!’
‘I would be failing in my duty to God and the kingdom, if I did not do so. It is clear that you and the King do not often enough . . .’ Aubigné paused to cough politely and clear his throat. ‘How can I put it? It is the will of God that marriage is for the purpose of procreation, yet you and the King do not often enough avail yourself of the opportunity to bring about this most happy result.’
Margot was furious. She glared into the man’s mean little eyes above his jutting nose and fat, bearded chin. ‘How dare you speak to me in this manner! Pray leave my presence at once.’
Aubigné remained firmly rooted to the spot. ‘I am aware of the King’s indiscretions, and how difficult it must be to achieve any intimacy between you as a result. Nevertheless, it would perhaps be wise if you were to refrain from following his lead quite so ardently, and concentrate instead on doing your duty as queen of this realm, even if ...’ The unspoken end to this sentence seemed to hang in the air between them … even if you have no morals.
Margot stared at him, too stunned by the man’s effrontery to think of a suitable response.
‘The danger is that you may find there are other ladies – younger, and mayhap more fecund, who would not hesitate to take your place in this respect.’
‘Is that meant to be some sort of threat?’ The prospect of divorce suddenly reared its ugly head in Margot’s startled mind. With divorce came disgrace, loss of status, penury perhaps, and even, God help her, a nunnery.
‘It is but a timely warning I recommend you heed. I would suggest that Your Majesty give this matter most careful thought.’ Having had his say, he sketched a bow and departed. Margot stamped her foot, let out a scream of fury, and, calling at once for her ladies, started to tear off her
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