Виктория Холт: The Queen's Secret

“The Queen’s men are here,” said Odette. “We must obey…but it will be all right. You must not be afraid. The boys are to be taken to her.”

“Not to our mother!” cried Louis.

“You see…there is unrest in Paris…she wants to take care of you”

“I won’t go,” said Louis.

“My dear,” said Odette quietly, “you are frightening the little ones. No harm will come to you. Your mother wants to look after you. It’s natural.”

“It is not,” insisted Louis.

“You will be all right. Please…Louis…remember little Charles. Look after him. You must take care of your little brothers.”

“I will,” said Louis. “I will look after them, but I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you, Odette.”

“I know. You’ll be back soon. I’m sure of it. Come…go graciously…remember you are the Dauphin…and if you do not go willingly …”

Louis said no more.

And the boys were taken away.

I heard later that that night they left Paris with my mother for Melun.

Michelle had come close to me and taken my hand. Marie was praying and an expression of acceptance was creeping over her face.

The boys had gone. Now it was the turn of the girls. We were not as important as the boys but still we were royal princesses, and had our uses, so we must not be taken over by Burgundy.

Odette said: “You are to go into a convent. That will be pleasant for you. You will learn so much. You will all be very happy and clever.”

“Are you coming with us?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“My place is here. But you three will all be together.”

“Is Guillemote coming?”

“No. But there will be the three of you…sisters to look after each other. You will be very happy there. It will be so much more comfortable than St.-Paul. I can promise you that.”

We flung our arms around her and told her that we did not want to leave her. Then we turned to Guillemote who was trying hard to smile and told us we should be very happy in our convent where we would learn to behave like princesses.

The days in the Hôtel de St.-Paul were over. Soon after that we left for the convent of Poissy.

Life was different at Poissy—more quiet and orderly. The nuns were severe, but kind; we were fed and clothed adequately and our education, which had hitherto been somewhat neglected, received immediate and assiduous attention. Marie was very happy. She was in her natural element. She was one to whom life would bring exactly what she wanted, and she knew then that she wanted to become a nun. It was different for Michelle and me. Michelle was already betrothed to the eldest son of the Duke of Burgundy; for me, nothing had so far been arranged.

We rose early—about five in the morning—and the rules of the convent were that every one of the hours between that time and darkness, when we retired, must be spent in some useful occupation. For Michelle, Marie and myself it was mostly lessons. We learned Latin, and English and music lessons were given every day. We had to learn to converse intelligently, and great stress was laid on good manners at table…and elsewhere, of course. The Mother Superior was a deified figure. She was benign yet aloof and we all were in great awe of her. We would walk in the gardens where we learned the names of flowers and herbs and their uses, and were allowed to grow some of our own, and when we wandered through the sequestered paths of the gardens we could chatter a little.

It was a very different life from that which we had lived in the Hôtel de St.-Paul. Here we were shut away. In the Hôtel there had been a smattering of gossip to give us ideas—if vague ones—of what was happening. To the uncertainty of life there had been added a whiff of excitement. We had never known when our father was going to recover and our lifestyle change for a while. Then his lapses into madness had been equally unpredictable. Now life in the convent fell into an ordered routine. One knew what one would be doing at any moment of the day.

Occasionally visitors were allowed, and Isabelle came to see us.

She had now been married to our young cousin Charles who, on the death of his father, had become the Duke of Orléans. He was younger than she, and I could see, merely by looking at her, that she was not exactly unhappy in the marriage, so that that which she had so much dreaded had turned out to be tolerable after all.

“Charles is very gentle and sweet-natured,” she told me. “Of course he is very young, but he loves me. Isn’t that wonderful, Katherine…for he was forced into this marriage…even as I was. He writes poetry. It’s really very good. It is not only I who says so. I think I have been fortunate in having two good, kind husbands.”

I knew all would be well with her now because, although she referred to Richard, she did not look downcast as she had before.

I said to Michelle later: “I believe she is quite happy. She seems different.” And Michelle agreed.

It was from Isabelle that I learned something of what was happening outside the convent walls.

She told me that Burgundy had remained in Paris, imposing his rule on the city. He had been there for four months and would still be there but for a revolt in Liège.

“He sent troops to suppress it, but they could not do so, and he had to go himself. When he was gone, our mother came back to Paris. Louis was with her. Poor Louis. It is all rather bewildering for him. I think he rather wishes he was not the Dauphin. He’s such a boy really and always so nervous because he is afraid he will do—or even say—the wrong thing. Who would be born royal? I often think, Katherine, how much happier we might be if we were just simple people. We should perhaps be able to lead our own lives. Well, our mother came back with Louis, and Berry and Bourbon are with her. They are against Burgundy. And what do you think our father has done? He recovered a little, but he is always afraid that his madness is going to break out. He has said that he cannot go on like this and he thinks it would be wise to pass on the government of the country to the Queen, our mother! You can imagine what consternation that caused.”

“Our poor father, he must be completely mad.”

“Louis is quite alarmed, wondering what this is going to mean to him. And Valentine Visconti upset him terribly by coming to him, kneeling at his feet and asking for justice for her murdered husband.”

“What did Louis do?”

“He said he would give her a speedy reply. Poor little Louis, it will not be for him to decide what shall be done. And in the midst of all this came the news that Burgundy had completely subdued the people of Liège and was preparing, with a victorious army, to return to Paris.”

“Were they all alarmed?”

“I am sure they were. In any case, they all left without delay. They have gone to Tours. Our mother has taken the King and the Dauphin with her. What will happen next I do not know, but I can see that it will take a long time to heal this rift between the houses of Burgundy and Orléans. It worries me, Katherine. I wonder how my Charles will react. He is not a fighter. He is not like his father either. He will never be an unfaithful husband. I know it.”

I smiled at her and held her hand tightly. I was so pleased that she had ceased to mourn for the long-since-dead Richard of England, and life had turned out well for her after all. She had been given a chance of happiness and I was sure that, with her sweet and gentle disposition, she would attain it.

I began to notice a serenity about her. It was some weeks before she told me.

“Katherine, what I have always wanted is to come to pass. I am going to have a child.”

I embraced her and we both shed a few tears. They were tears of happiness. I was thinking how wonderful it was that in the midst of all this turmoil there could be this joy. And who deserved it better than my sweet sister Isabelle?