comfortably.
Then one afternoon in early December, a distinguished gentleman rode up to the chateau. Dismounting in the courtyard, he gave his horse to the attending stableman and entered the house. Adali hurried forward.
“Monsieur le Comte, you are most welcome to Belle Fleurs. I shall tell my mistress you are here. Come into the hall. Marc, wine for monsieur le comte!” Ushering the guest into the Great Hall, he hurried off to fetch Jasmine.
“Philippe!” She came into the hall, hands outstretched, a welcoming smile upon her lips.
“Cousine, you have not changed a bit in all the years that have separated us,” he said gallantly, kissing her on both cheeks.
“Liar!” she laughed.
“I was sorry to hear of your husband’s death,” he told her.
“And I of Marie Louise’s passing,” she returned. “Come, Philippe, and sit by the fire. ’Tis a cold day, and you must be chilled from your ride.”
They sat together, and he said, “You have come to France to escape Cromwell and his Puritans, I have no doubt.”
“You cannot imagine how dreadful it is, Philippe,” she told him, and went on to describe the bleak England of Protector Cromwell. “I could bear it for myself, but not for Autumn. There is no society as we once knew it any longer, Philippe. I have come to France to mourn in peace, to escape the joylessness of England today, but most important, I have come to seek a suitable husband for my youngest child. She is just nineteen and probably the most beautiful of all my daughters. There was no one in Scotland for her, and certainly no one in England today who would do. So I have come to Belle Fleurs.”
He nodded, understanding. Then he said, “France has been in turmoil these past years, Jasmine. The king was hardly out of leading strings when his father died. Old Louis was no fool, and he was wise enough to make the queen regent for the boy, but that has caused such difficulty. Anne of Austria is also no fool. She has leaned heavily upon the cardinal, but the princes of the blood hate him and are jealous. I am glad you sailed to Nantes. Had you come via Calais you might never have gotten to Belle Fleurs. We have been fortunate in this little region, for we have seen little fighting, but about us all is conflict.”
“Has it really been that bad, Philippe? We heard little of it at Glenkirk, and in England all we discuss is the king’s murder and the young king’s hopes of restoration.”
“It has been that bad,” he said. “Last January the queen mother had the Prince de Conde, the Prince de Conti, and the Duc de Longueville arrested. Then she had to pacify Normandy and Burgundy. She left Paris in the hands of Monsieur while she went to Guyennne to restore their loyalty. Gaston d’Orleans’s loyalty is insecure at best and treasonous at worst, but he is her brother-in-law. He has never gotten over the fact that Louis XIII made his wife regent and not him.”
“I thought Conde was loyal,” Jasmine said.
“He runs with the hares and hunts with the hounds,” the Comte de Cher said dryly. “The chief troublemaker in all of this is Jean Francoise Paul de Gondi, the Archbishop of both Corinth and Paris. If there is a treasonous plot, you will be certain to find Gondi involved. For all his public piety, he is a very wicked and ambitious man. He has always believed that the queen mother was not fit, by virtue of her sex, to be the regent. If anyone is responsible for the estrangement between Monsieur and Anne of Austria, it is Gondi. So he lures Gaston d’Orleans, and the cardinal tries to convince the Duc de Bouillon, and his brother, Marshall Turenne, to give their complete loyalty to the queen mother. The marshall had some success in an August campaign in Champagne. The cardinal knew that if Turenne declared for Anne in light of his recent victories, it would be good for the young king. Turenne, however, refused, and so the cardinal made certain his next battle would cost him dearly
Then one afternoon in early December, a distinguished gentleman rode up to the chateau. Dismounting in the courtyard, he gave his horse to the attending stableman and entered the house. Adali hurried forward.
“Monsieur le Comte, you are most welcome to Belle Fleurs. I shall tell my mistress you are here. Come into the hall. Marc, wine for monsieur le comte!” Ushering the guest into the Great Hall, he hurried off to fetch Jasmine.
“Philippe!” She came into the hall, hands outstretched, a welcoming smile upon her lips.
“Cousine, you have not changed a bit in all the years that have separated us,” he said gallantly, kissing her on both cheeks.
“Liar!” she laughed.
“I was sorry to hear of your husband’s death,” he told her.
“And I of Marie Louise’s passing,” she returned. “Come, Philippe, and sit by the fire. ’Tis a cold day, and you must be chilled from your ride.”
They sat together, and he said, “You have come to France to escape Cromwell and his Puritans, I have no doubt.”
“You cannot imagine how dreadful it is, Philippe,” she told him, and went on to describe the bleak England of Protector Cromwell. “I could bear it for myself, but not for Autumn. There is no society as we once knew it any longer, Philippe. I have come to France to mourn in peace, to escape the joylessness of England today, but most important, I have come to seek a suitable husband for my youngest child. She is just nineteen and probably the most beautiful of all my daughters. There was no one in Scotland for her, and certainly no one in England today who would do. So I have come to Belle Fleurs.”
He nodded, understanding. Then he said, “France has been in turmoil these past years, Jasmine. The king was hardly out of leading strings when his father died. Old Louis was no fool, and he was wise enough to make the queen regent for the boy, but that has caused such difficulty. Anne of Austria is also no fool. She has leaned heavily upon the cardinal, but the princes of the blood hate him and are jealous. I am glad you sailed to Nantes. Had you come via Calais you might never have gotten to Belle Fleurs. We have been fortunate in this little region, for we have seen little fighting, but about us all is conflict.”
“Has it really been that bad, Philippe? We heard little of it at Glenkirk, and in England all we discuss is the king’s murder and the young king’s hopes of restoration.”
“It has been that bad,” he said. “Last January the queen mother had the Prince de Conde, the Prince de Conti, and the Duc de Longueville arrested. Then she had to pacify Normandy and Burgundy. She left Paris in the hands of Monsieur while she went to Guyennne to restore their loyalty. Gaston d’Orleans’s loyalty is insecure at best and treasonous at worst, but he is her brother-in-law. He has never gotten over the fact that Louis XIII made his wife regent and not him.”
“I thought Conde was loyal,” Jasmine said.
“He runs with the hares and hunts with the hounds,” the Comte de Cher said dryly. “The chief troublemaker in all of this is Jean Francoise Paul de Gondi, the Archbishop of both Corinth and Paris. If there is a treasonous plot, you will be certain to find Gondi involved. For all his public piety, he is a very wicked and ambitious man. He has always believed that the queen mother was not fit, by virtue of her sex, to be the regent. If anyone is responsible for the estrangement between Monsieur and Anne of Austria, it is Gondi. So he lures Gaston d’Orleans, and the cardinal tries to convince the Duc de Bouillon, and his brother, Marshall Turenne, to give their complete loyalty to the queen mother. The marshall had some success in an August campaign in Champagne. The cardinal knew that if Turenne declared for Anne in light of his recent victories, it would be good for the young king. Turenne, however, refused, and so the cardinal made certain his next battle would cost him dearly
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