The Hostage Queen Read Online Free PDF

least.
    And, of course, he adored his sister, as did they all.
    Each of her sons was jealous of the amount of attention she gave to the other. The gossip-mongers claimed that the attachment was unhealthily close, which caused Catherine much amusement. Even if it were true, it wouldn’t trouble her in the slightest. A woman who had watched her husband make love to his mistress through a spy hole in the floor of her own bedchamber could never be accused of being a moralist.
    As for Marguerite, given the pet name of Margot by the King her brother, she was indeed a Queen of Hearts with her dancing eyes, pale silken skin, dark shining curls and neat little figure. A wanton little madam. Pretty enough to turn any man’s head, even her own brothers.
    Through her children Catherine had found power, and she intended to make full use of it, including taking advantage of her daughter’s famed beauty to win yet another crown for the House of Valois, as well as bring peace to the realm. No matter what the cost.
     
    The discussions continued, concluding the following morning in the palace’s long gallery. Out by the harbour courtiers lazily dined on crab, moules and sardines, enjoying the hot summer sun. Servants hurried to and fro, sweating in the heat as royal barges were prepared and restocked in readiness for departure. But within doors the four delegates slowly paced the length of the cool, pillared corridor.
    The young Queen of Spain kept her eyes on the ground, saying little; nor did Charles dare to utter a word as he trailed in the steps of his mother. Catherine was at her most magnificent, her customary black robes appearing strangely ominous amongst the shadows, like some creature from the netherworld. Alva was equally sombre in his Spanish garb.
    Catherine broached the subject of the royal marriages, countering every argument the Duke brought against them. Little progress was made as he again held up her attitude towards the new religion as a difficulty, speaking with bitter hostility.
    ‘King Philip wants to know whether or no you are going to remedy this religious business. Shall he count upon your son the King, or shall he act by himself? To ascertain this is the only reason why your daughter has come to Bayonne.’
    Cold fury sharpened her tone as Catherine reminded the Duke that neither country could afford war. ‘Spain certainly cannot from what I hear of the state of King Philip’s treasury. I offer no promises to deal differently with the Huguenots. It would be an impossible task without inflicting great risk to the state.’
    ‘Then I do not see how we can make progress on this matter.’
    ‘I fear His Majesty fails fully to understand my position.’
    ‘He understands it perfectly.’
    Catherine’s hands instinctively clenched with fury, and she quickly hid them in the folds of her gown. ‘ Have you brought any Protestant Lords with you today? I thought not,’ she said as the Duke snorted at the very idea. ‘It is perhaps a pity that neither of us thought to do so. Were I to do anything rash following this meeting, they would be bound to assume that we plotted against them, that our discussions today were concerned with their elimination and not a marriage union between the House of Valois and Hapsburg.’
    The Duke’s ambition and cruelty was all too evident in the sourness of his expression and the harsh nature of his reply. ‘My mission is to ensure Your Majesty adopts a far more active anti-Huguenot policy. King Philip will offer every assistance, and I am confident will show all due appreciation, once that is achieved.’
    ‘Ah, so now we come to it. What is it, exactly, that His Majesty requires?’
    ‘No matter whether by fire or sword, the roots of evil must be cut away. His Majesty demands th e immediate expulsion of the Huguenot ministers on pain of death, a ban on Huguenots in public office and . . .’ A slight pause before he issued his final demand. ‘. . . the heads of their leaders: