‘ONE THING TROUBLED MEabout the coronation,’ said Pierre to Cardinal Charles.
They were at the vast Guise family palace in the Vieille rue du Temple, in the opulent small parlour where Pierre had first met Charles and his scarred elder brother, François. Charles had bought more paintings since then, all biblical scenes but highly charged with sexuality: Adam and Eve, Susanna and the elders, Potiphar’s wife.
Sometimes Charles was interested in what Pierre had to say; at other times he would shut Pierre up with a casually dismissive flick of his long, elegant fingers. Today he was in a receptive mood. ‘Go on.’
Pierre quoted: ‘Francis and Mary, by the grace of God king and queen of France, Scotland, England and Ireland.’
‘As indeed they are. Francis is king of France. Mary is the queen of Scots. And, by right of inheritance and by the authority of the Pope, Mary is queen of England and Ireland.’
‘And they have those words carved on their new furniture and embossed on the queen’s new dining plates for all to see – including the English ambassador.’
‘Your point is?’
‘By encouraging Mary Stuart to tell the world she is the rightful queen of England, we have made an enemy of Queen Elizabeth.’
‘So what? Elizabeth is hardly a threat to us.’
‘But what have we achieved? When we make an enemy there should be some benefit to us. Otherwise we have harmed only ourselves.’
A look of greed came over Charles’s long face. ‘We’re going to rule over the greatest European empire since Charlemagne,’ he said. ‘It will be greater than that of Felipe of Spain, because his dominions are scattered and therefore impossible to govern, whereas the new French empire will be compact, its wealth and strength concentrated. We will hold sway from Edinburgh to Marseilles, and control the ocean from the North Sea to the Bay of Biscay.’
Pierre took the risk of arguing. ‘If we’re serious, we would have done better to conceal our intentions from the English. Now they’re forewarned.’
‘And what will they do? Elizabeth rules a poor and barbarous country that has no army.’
‘It has a navy.’
‘Not much of one.’
‘But, given the difficulty of attacking an island . . .’
Charles gave the flick of the fingers that indicated he had lost interest. ‘On to a more immediate topic,’ he said. He handed Pierre a sheet of heavyweight paper with an official seal. ‘There it is,’ he said. ‘The annulment of your marriage.’
Pierre took the paper gratefully. The grounds were clear – the marriage had never been consummated – but even so it could be difficult to get an annulment. He felt relieved. ‘That was quick.’
‘I’m not a cardinal for nothing. And it was gutsy of you to go through with the ceremony.’
‘It was worth it.’ Hundreds of Protestants had been arrested all over the city in a co-ordinated series of raids planned by Charles and Pierre. ‘Even if most of them have been let off with fines.’
‘If they recant their beliefs we can’t burn them to death – especially if they’re aristocrats, like the marquess of Nîmes and his wife. Pastor Bernard will die – he refused to recant, even under torture. And we found parts of a French Bible in the print shop, so your ex-wife’s father can’t escape punishment by recanting. Giles Palot will burn.’
‘All of which makes the Guise family Catholic heroes.’
‘Thanks to you.’
Pierre bowed his head in acknowledgement, glowing with pride. His satisfaction was profound. This was what he had wanted: to be the trusted aide to the most powerful man in the land. It was his moment of triumph. He tried not to show just how exultant he felt.
Charles said: ‘But there’s another reason why I was in a hurry to get you an annulment.’
Pierre frowned. What now? Charles was the only man in Paris who was as devious as Pierre himself.
Charles went on: ‘There’s someone else I want you to marry.’
‘Good God!’ Pierre was rocked. He had not been expecting that. His thoughts immediately flew to Véronique de Guise. Had Charles changed his mind about letting Pierre marry her? His heart filled with hope. Was it possible that two dreams could come true?
Charles said: ‘My nephew Alain, who is only fourteen, has seduced a maid and got her pregnant. He can’t possibly marry her.’
Pierre’s spirits fell with a painful crash. ‘A maid?’
