Читать книгу The Agincourt Bride онлайн | страница 80

Eventually Catherine descended, her forehead knitted in a frown. I was aching to know how the meeting with Louis had gone but was forced to wait.

‘I must pray, Mette,’ was all she said, going straight to her prie-dieu. ‘Please keep the door a little longer.’

I promised I would, but now that Catherine was back in her chamber I thought it safe to slip down the stair to check on Bonne, whose silence I considered more ominous than her anger. As I descended, I encountered a page wearing the Armagnac cross of Lorraine climbing the stair towards me. ‘I have a message for the Princess Catherine,’ he announced.

I held out my hand, my heart racing, certain this was the first sign of Bonne’s backlash. ‘Her highness is indisposed,’ I said. ‘I will take it to her.’

He removed a sealed letter from the purse on his belt and gave it to me before retreating down the stair. I was sorely tempted to destroy the letter there and then, but prudence prevailed for I reasoned that if Bonne was working against me the sooner Catherine knew of it the better. When I re-entered her bedchamber, she made the sign of the cross and rose from the prie-dieu. The Virgin gazed benignly down from the candlelit triptych revealing nothing, but I noticed that whatever intercession had been asked of Her, the creases had not been smoothed from Catherine’s brow.

Silently I handed her the letter and, when she broke the seal and opened it, I saw that it contained several lines of script. I waited while she read it, imagining I could already hear the stamp of the guards’ heavy boots advancing up the stair to arrest me.

When she raised her head, Catherine’s eyes were wide with surprise. ‘It is not from Bonne, it is from her father the count,’ she said, re-folding the parchment. ‘In view of the failure of the English treaty, Armagnac and Orleans have decided that the marriage between Bonne and the duke should take place immediately. The count deeply regrets that his daughter’s duty in this matter takes her away from my service, but he hopes I will understand and wish her well.’ Catherine laid a gentle hand on my arm. ‘So you can stop twitching, Mette. Mademoiselle of Armagnac is no longer a member of my household.’