“Dearest Tony,” Arabella returned, her hand upon Lord Varden’s arm in familiar fashion, “do not fret yourself. I have, in my time, protected my virtue on any number of occasions from ‘gentlemen’ such as my lord duc. I did not waste my time at King James’ court like so many of those Scotswomen who are far too loose with their morals to please me. I am sure that my lord duc recognizes a virtuous woman when he sees one.”
“Are you without passion then, madame?” the duc asked her.
Once again Arabella flushed. “My lord!” she said, sounding shocked by his unspoken suggestions.
The Duc de Lambour laughed, however. “No,” he said, “you are not without passion, madame. I can see that.”
“Adrian,” the king smiled at his friend, “you are incorrigible. My confessor says that your company imperils my soul.”
“My liege, I should remove myself from your presence altogether if I ever believed that I was truly a danger to you,” the duc said. “Besides, your majesty’s example of fidelity to your affianced, the Lady Margaret of Austria, is an example to us all.”
“Not to you,mon ami!” the king chuckled, and then he turned again to Arabella and Lord Varden. “May you be happy in France, madame,” he said by way of dismissal, and they moved off back into the crowd of guests. When they were out of hearing, the king said, “The way your eyes follow her, Adrian, I can see Madame Grey is of interest to you.”
“Do you think she is really virtuous, my liege, or is it a pose?” the duc wondered aloud. “Either way, aye, I am intrigued. However long it takes, I will make the beauteouspetite rose d’Anglaise, as you call her, mine. Certainly such a lovely widow will be in need of comforting sooner or later.”
“She is not a widow,” the king said softly.
“What!”
“Adrian, you of all people know there is little I do not know about what goes on in my kingdom. They called my father the ‘Spider King,’ and I am first and foremost the Spider’s son, although I would hope I had more charm and a kinder heart than Louis XI. It pleases me to allow my sister and her husband to rule for me at this moment, for they do what I would do, and soon enough I must take up the responsibilities that are mine. For now, however, I am content, but I am also well-informed. Madame Grey divorced her husband, a Scots earl, in an effort to regain her English properties for their child. When the Tudor king refused to return those properties, the lady fled to France, leaving her child behind in the king’s care as she could no longer support the child herself. Her husband, I am told, will not have her back now, and as the infant in question is a daughter, it does not matter to him. Fortunately, King Henry’s queen is of a charitable nature and accepted the little girl into the royal nurseries.
“Madame Grey has taken a small house on the river just outside the city. She has little if any means, I understand. Eventually she will need either a husband or a noble protector,mon chereAdrian. Other than her beauty, she has nothing to recommend her on the marriage market, and marriage, as you well know, is not a matter of beauty. It is a matter of monies, lands, and advantageous alliances for people of our class.La petite rose d’Anglaisewill not find a husband amongst the French nobility. Her beauty, however, might be used to entrap some wealthy merchant with a desire for a young and noble wife, butc’est damage!To waste such loveliness on some fat burgher.”
“One might believe that you were encouraging me in my seductions, my liege,” the Duc de Lambour said mischievously.
“Hah!” the king’s laughter sounded sharply. “You need no encouragement from me,mon ami. Hein?”
“What kind of a man lets a woman likethatget away?” the duc said. “I wonder if he misses her.”
The king shrugged his shoulders. “It does not matter,mon ami. His loss may be your good fortuneifthe lady can be wooed.”
In the weeks that followed, however, it appeared that Arabella could not be enticed from the path of virtue. With Lord Varden, who at first was believed to be her lover, a myth quickly disavowed by the Englishman himself, Arabella traveled to the Loire region, for the king had moved the court to Amboise, his favorite residence, for the summer months. It was Anthony Varden who arranged their shared accommodation, although it was Arabella who, in exchange, brought her servants to oversee the running of the household.
Her association with the late Scots king, James III, and her short time at his court, had strangely, and to her very great surprise, been enough of an exposure to society to assure her success at the French court, where she quickly honed her social skills. She had a good intellect which, coupled with a sharp tongue and a keen eye for observation, soon brought her a reputation as a woman with a quick wit. This engendered her favor with the elders of the court and the women. It was her beauty, nonetheless, that lured the men. Madame Grey was a challenge that no French man could resist. Madame Grey was a virtuous woman.
Wagers began to be placed as to whenla petite rose d’Anglaisewould succumb to passion, and who would be the fortunate man to overcome her charming, if silly, scruples. The Duc de Lambour was, of course, a heavy favorite, despite Madame Grey’s vehement refusals of his overturesd’amour. Adrian Morlaix had never been known before to fail in his objective, although even he could not yet claim having stolen a kiss from the lady in question. To date, no man had.
The entire court watched with delight the whole summer long and into the warm days of early autumn. It was far more interesting than wondering what the English or those who ruled the duchy of Brittany would do next. Would Madame Grey be defeated in thisguerre d’amour? Would the Duc de Lambour grow as tired of the chase as the lady’s many other suitors who had now fallen away? What was a poor harvest in several of the northern provinces compared to this? It was all so fascinating!
Chapter Eighteen
“What do ye mean she isgone!” The Earl of Dunmor’s eyes were steely. “Where is Arabella?”
Margery Fleming felt tears beginning to well within her eyes. “She hae left ye, Tavis,” she said once again. “She hae divorced ye and returned to England.”
“Divorced me?”His jaw dropped.
“Wench was always more trouble than she was worth,” Donald Fleming said darkly.
Tavis Stewart rounded on his brother and hit him a blow that sent him flying.“Shut up, Donald!”he snarled dangerously. “I want to know the entire truth of this matter.” He turned back to Lady Margery. “Mother?”
“‘Tis yer own fault,” she began.
“My fault?”The earl looked aggrieved.
“Aye, yer fault!” Angry now, Lady Margery began to shout at her eldest son. “Ye would nae aid her in her attempts to regain her home, Tavis. How would ye feel if Dunmor had been taken from ye?”
“The king wrote to the English,” he said defensively.
