The threat was laughable. ‘Don’t say things you don’t mean.’
‘I will,’ Alain repeated. ‘You’ve gone too far this time. You’ve murdered my mother, and I’m going to get you back. If it takes me as long as I live, I will kill you with my own hands, and watch you die.’
For a brief moment, Pierre felt a chill of fear. Then he shook it off. Alain was not going to kill anyone.
He looked along the corridor and saw Nath approaching, carrying a basket, evidently back from the market. ‘Come here, Nath,’ he said. ‘Quickly. A very sad thing has happened.’
*
SYLVIE PUT ONa black hat with a heavy veil and went to the funeral of Odette Aumande de Guise.
She wanted to stand beside Nath and Alain, both of whom were terribly upset; and she also felt an odd emotional link with Odette, because they had both married Pierre.
Ned did not come. He had gone to the cathedral of Notre Dame to see which prominent English Catholics were in Paris: perhaps the men who were collaborating with the duke of Guise might be foolish enough to reveal themselves.
It was a rainy day and the graveyard was muddy. Most of the mourners looked, to Sylvie, like minor Guise family members and maids. The only prominent ones who came were Véronique, who had known Odette since they were both adolescents, and Pierre himself, pretending to be stricken with grief.
Sylvie watched Pierre nervously, even though she felt sure he would not penetrate her disguise. She was right: he did not even look at her.
Only Nath and Alain wept.
When it was over, and Pierre and most of the mourners had departed, Sylvie, Nath and Alain stood under the canopy of an oak tree to talk.
‘I think he killed her,’ Alain said.
Alain had the Guise good looks, Sylvie noticed, even with his eyes red from crying. ‘But she was ill,’ Sylvie said.
‘I know. But I left her alone with him for just a few minutes, to fetch a potion from the apothecary, and when I got back she was dead.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Sylvie. She had no idea whether what Alain said was true, but she felt sure Pierre was capable of murder.
‘I’m going to leave the palace,’ Alain said. ‘I have no reason to stay now that she’s not there.’
‘Where will you go?’
‘I can move into my college.’
Nath said: ‘I have to leave, too. I’ve been dismissed. Pierre always hated me.’
‘Oh, dear! What will you do?’
‘I don’t need employment. The book business keeps me run off my feet anyway.’ Nath was indomitable. Since Sylvie had turned her into a spy, all those years ago, she had just become stronger and more resourceful.
But now Sylvie was perturbed. ‘Do you have to leave? You’re our most important source of information on Pierre and the Guises.’
‘I’ve no choice. He’s kicked me out.’
‘Can’t you plead with him?’ Sylvie said desperately.
‘You know better than that.’
Sylvie did. No amount of pleading would make Pierre reverse an act of meanness.
This was a serious problem – but, Sylvie saw immediately, there was an obvious solution. She turned to Alain. ‘You could stay with Pierre, couldn’t you?’
‘No.’
‘We need to know what he’s doing!’
