The Reluctant Queen by Freda Lightfoot Page A

daughter, would be Queen of France. That is something, I dare say.’ Queen Catherine almost smiled. ‘You would probably make a better job of it than all your brothers.’
    ‘I doubt it will ever happen,’ Margot said, thinking of Fosseuse and how the girl would almost certainly have gained herself a crown, had she shown herself capable of producing a son.
      ‘Can we not trust Navarre? I confess I have never entirely understood how his agile brain works.’
    Margot burst out laughing. ‘Neither do I. He is an enigma, a law unto himself. Full of affable wit and yet …’
    ‘As wily as a fox, playing the fool while he decides which way to wear his coat,’ Catherine finished for her. ‘Did he not very cleverly escape by first persuading us to think him too stupid to even contemplate it?’ Catherine cackled with laughter, always ready to see the funny side. ‘Guise is far less complicated. Mayhap I should have let you have him after all.’
    ‘Don’t, it is too late now.’ There had been a time when Catherine had offered Margot the opportunity for divorce, but to accept would have put her husband’s life at risk. Margot did not dislike Henry enough to do that to him. Though Navarre had his faults, she trusted her mother less.
    ‘You do know, do you not, Margot, that your old amour plots against us with Philip of Spain?’
    ‘I cannot think Guise would do such a thing.’ Margot diplomatically responded.
    ‘And against you.’
    Margot considered this surprising remark but made no reply, not wishing to believe it. They were by now walking in the Tuileries Gardens, a favourite place of the Queen Mother’s for private conversation. She led her daughter along a green alley, seeing no irony in the fact it was the very same one where she had plotted the St Bartholomew’s Day massacre.
    ‘Henri of Guise is still bristling with resentment over the House of Lorraine being held responsible for the events of that terrible night.’ Even Catherine balked at using the word that best described it. ‘Consequently, he feels no compunction in stirring rebellion against us.’
    She went on to briefly explain how her spies had discovered correspondence between Guise and Philip of Spain, and even the King of Navarre. ‘Philip was so impressed with your husband’s gallant capture of Cahors, that he has proposed Navarre join the Catholic League. In return he will provide him with an army to overthrow the House of Valois, otherwise the King of Spain would see to it that Navarre was excluded from the succession on account of his faith.’
    Margot listened until she could keep quiet no longer. ‘My husband would not be so foolish as to attempt such a reckless venture. He will see that if the Guises are not loyal to their anointed King, nor would they be to him, whether or not he changes his faith, which I very much doubt he would do.’
    Unperturbed, Catherine quietly continued, ‘Philip has also offered your husband one of his own daughters, were he to divorce you.’
    Margot sucked in her breath, attempting to stifle a startled gasp.
    ‘Nor would Guise choose you to share his crown, were he to win the succession in place of Navarre, as the offer would then revert to him.’
    Stunned by this news, and afraid suddenly for her own vulnerability if this plot were ever to reach fruition, Margot held her silence. Later, she took her mother’s advice and wrote to her husband, warning him that she was aware of his duplicity, and urging him to come to Paris and prove his good faith. Navarre politely declined.
    Once it became clear that Navarre wasn’t going to obey the royal summons, Henri’s peevish jealousy came once more to the fore, fostered by his mignons .
    He had collected yet more pretty boys to join his nefarious crew, and in place of those killed in a notorious brawl were two new favourites. These became known as Epernon and Joyeuse, once Henri had bestowed titles upon them. They were less effeminate than the rest, and