‘I will do it, Father. When shall we go?’
‘At night.’
‘But the Prince’s apartments are guarded.’
‘Never worry your head about that. We’ll get him through the window, and a coach will be waiting.’
Henry of Guise laughed with delight. He stood up very straight and tried to assume the bearing of his father; he greatly regretted that he had not a scar of battle beneath his eye. Sometimes he wondered whether he would make such a scar so that men would say, ‘Is that Le Balafré Père or Le Balafré Fils?’
He was determined to play his part correctly. He was absent-minded with Margot. She reproached him and tried to make him caress her, but Henry of Guise became aloof as he imagined his father would be before some great battle; this was no time for dalliance with women.
At the appointed time he was at his post with Prince Henry, and he so arranged it that they were alone.
He flashed a secret smile at his father, Duke Francis, as he approached with his friend and ally, the Duke of Nemours, just as he had said he would.
Nemours talked to the little Prince while Duke Francis turned away and engaged his son in conversation.
‘Good day to you, my lord,’ said Nemours.
‘Good day,’ said Prince Henry. He touched his ears to make sure his earrings were in place.
‘And what religion is yours, my Prince? Are you Papist or Huguenot?’
The crafty Medici eyes were immediately alert. He was no fool, this Prince Henry, and he knew very well that all the trouble in the land had arisen through the conflict of religion. At the mention of the subject he was on guard.
He said haughtily: ‘I am of my mother’s religion.’
‘That is well,’ said Nemours. ‘It shows you are a dutiful son.’
Now it was the turn of little Henry of Guise. He ran to the Prince and said: ‘My father is taking me on a visit to our château of Lorraine. Please come with us.’
Prince Henry’s Italian eyes went from the Dukes to the boy. ‘I do not think,’ he said, ‘that my mother would wish me to desert my brother, the King.’
Henry of Guise persisted. ‘It will be fun in Lorraine. There you will have the first place. Here you are merely the brother of the King. My mother has some beautiful jewels. I doubt not that you would enjoy seeing her sapphires.’
‘What sort of sapphires?’ asked Prince Henry with interest.
‘All sorts. And she has beautiful cloths from Italy. We turn out her trunks and dress up in them. You should come with us.’
Prince Henry’s eyes began to shine, for there was nothing he enjoyed so much as dressing up. He wanted to hear more about the cloths and the jewels of the Duchess of Guise.
‘Come and see for yourself,’ said Henry of Guise slyly.
‘Very well,’ said the Prince. ‘I will come for a short visit.’
Francis of Guise pressed his son’s shoulder gently and approvingly; and the two boys ran off whispering together.
The Prince asked suspiciously, when they were out of earshot of the men: ‘Why do we go without the consent of my mother?’
‘Oh … it is but a short visit, and it will be over so soon. There is no need to trouble her.’
‘I do not think I should go without my mother’s consent.’
Henry of Guise was alarmed, and, seeking to make the adventure more exciting, he whispered: ‘It will be the greatest fun. We are going to climb through our windows, and there will be a coach waiting to take us to Lorraine.’
The Prince was thoughtful; he was not so fond of rough, boyish games as his friend was. Henry of Guise was only a young boy; it did not occur to him that such a manner of going could possibly be a deterrent. Prince Henry smelt his perfumed kerchief and studied the rings on his hands. The smile about his mouth was very sly, and he sought an early opportunity of going to his mother.
She embraced him tenderly; there was never any ceremony with her beloved son as there was with the others.
‘Mother,’ he said, the crafty Medici look creeping into his eyes. ‘I am to leave my apartment by the window, go into a waiting coach and be driven off to see the fine cloths and jewels of the Duchess of Guise.’
‘What is this, my darling?’
‘That is what they plan for me.’
‘Who, my dearest? What do you mean?’
‘Henry told me about it. His father was there, and so was Monsieur de Nemours. They asked what my religion was – Papist or Huguenot – and I told them my religion was the same as yours. They said I should pay them a visit, and we should go through the window and a coach would be waiting to take us to Lorraine. I thought that was a strange way for a Prince to travel.’
Catherine embraced him fiercely. ‘Oh, my darling. My wise and clever boy. How right you were to come straight to your mother!’
From then on she could not bear him to go out of her sight. They had terrified her. They had thought to kidnap her dearest boy. What dangerous men these were! And what a perilous position she had put herself in by siding openly with the Bourbons!
When, a few days later, she found herself face to face with Francis of Guise, she realised afresh the strength of this man. He was angry with her because his plot to kidnap the Prince had failed; he distrusted her, seeing her as a different person from the meek woman he had suspected her to be.
He was blunt; the eye above the scar watered freely; the strong, cruel mouth was hard and firm.
‘Madame,’ he said, ‘I and mine have allowed you to become the Regent of France that you might defend the faith. If this is not your intention, then there are others – Princes of the Blood Royal, men of wisdom – who are more fitted to take over the responsibility which is now yours.’
With an impetuosity which was foreign to her, she said: ‘Would you, Monsieur de Guise, remain true to me if I and my son changed our faith?’
The Duke answered with frankness: ‘No, Madame. I should not.’
‘Then you are lacking in loyalty to the Crown, Monsieur.’
‘As long as you and the Crown keep to the faith of your forefathers and mine, I will give my life in your cause.’
She did not doubt for a moment that he spoke the truth. She saw the fanatical gleam in his eyes, and during the last few years she had become familiar with that fanaticism. So the mighty Duke, the great disciplinarian, the soldier of France, was as fanatically religious as those men whom she had seen tortured for their religion or burned at the stake.
It was a startling discovery, but it was not an unpleasant one. She considered these fanatics, these people who served a cause. They were weak compared with such as herself whose cause was expediency, who had no religion but that of keeping power. She could change her course so easily, using the winds of fortune; they must plough on, whether the wind was with them or against them.
She could see more clearly the way she must take with this man. She feared him. He was the head of the great Catholic Party, and he had a strength and a power which was lacking in the Bourbons. She had been foolish to show too much favour to Antoine of Navarre and Louis of Bourbon, the Prince of Condé, to Coligny and his brothers.
She said softly: ‘Monsieur de Guise, rest assured that there is only one faith for me, and that is the faith of your forefathers and mine. How could it be otherwise? Why should I change with these … fanatics?’