Threads of Silk by Linda Lee Chaikin Page A

sufficiency alone.”
    She laid her cheek contentedly against his chest, feeling the velvet against her skin.
    “Show me the wedding ring. I long for you to place it on my hand.”
    He stooped to the chest and produced the key to the lock. A slight intake of his breath drew her attention.
    She sank on her knees beside him. The lock had slid open without the key .
    She looked at him. “Perhaps you failed to lock it last time you looked in the chest?” Her optimistic suggestion sounded implausible even to her.
    “Non, it has been forced.”
    He lifted the heavy lid and she watched as he searched through items of Bourbon family import and sentiment. He lifted a gold box and opened it. She drew in a breath as her eyes feasted on jewelry that sparkled and flashed.
    “Most interesting. Nothing of monetary value has been taken. The Bible, however, is missing.”
    “The Bible?” she whispered, tensing.
    “The lock has been pried open, and not so long ago. See the marks in the brass?”
    “A servant perhaps?”
    Fabien shook his head, scowling. “Those who have access to this chamber I would trust with my life. I wouldn’t have thought anyone would dare enter my palais and private bedchamber and break into a family chest. There are guards stationed about the lands. The serving men and women are multigenerational serfs. They accept me as their liege, and they grant me their affection and loyalty. Except Dumas.”
    “Dumas?”
    “The captain of my home guard, or he was. He went over to the side of Maurice. I cannot see how it could be Dumas when the jewels were left undisturbed and the Bible taken.”
    An ominous shadow fell across her memory.
    “Someone wanted to confiscate the forbidden translation.”
    “The question is, who would dare enter my chamber, who had the opportunity, and how did this worm know to look in the chest for the Bible?”
    Fear tightened about her like grasping fingers. Now she remembered what disturbed her earlier . She knew who it was.
    Fabien continued, “A common thief, if he could have gotten in here, which I doubt, would have searched the chamber for precious objects.
    When the chest was found and broken into, would a thief suddenly covet
    God’s Word instead of worldly wealth? Not likely. He must have known where the Bible was hidden.”
    His eyes were coolly observant. “What is the most nefarious reason for wanting it?”
    “To use it as evidence against you. But he would need to prove it was yours.”
    “Duchesse Marie-Louise signed the Bible over to me upon her death bed. I have written my own name in it as well.”
    Fabien glowered down at the chest.
    “Maurice,” he said, “who else?”
    “Yes.” She bit her lip, recalling the incident. She turned to Fabien.
    “I remember now. He came to the Château de Silk to take me to Fontainebleau. It was then he allowed some words to slip from his tongue. He said you were a Huguenot, that you had a heretic Bible in your chamber. I asked how he knew what was in your private chamber. He made some vague excuses.” She laid a trembling hand on his arm. “He is avaricious enough to bring his evidence of heresy to the Cardinal de Lorraine. Maurice will become furious when he learns we have married.”
    “It isn’t the cardinal that troubles me as much as Maurice. He sorely tempts me to want to rid him of his front teeth. He has blundered into my life, stomping all over things most dear to me. You, Andelot, and now the Lefèvre d’Étaples Bible.”
    He stood, helping her to her feet. “I must make certain, however. Though all evidence crowns him the thief, I will speak to my chamberlain. It will be interesting to see what he can say about this.”
    Fabien sent for him, and the chamberlain appeared, looking distraught over the breach to his master’s private chest.
    “What do you know of this, Raymond?”
    His eyes widened with fear. “Monseigneur, nothing, I vow! No one has entered your private bedchamber during your absence at sea.