The Wild Queen Read Online Free PDF Page B

well as the Feast of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary. The duchess had arranged for a special celebration for me.
    After Mass in the royal chapel, the king’s children and the children of the court gathered in the nursery. My French half brother, François de Longueville, came, accompanied by my grandparents. Servants carried in platters of cakes and pastries. Minstrels entertained us with shawm, recorder, sackbut, and hurdy-gurdy. Jugglers and acrobats performed. Queen Catherine, heavy with child, was on hand, observing quietly.
    Madame de Poitiers had chosen this as the perfect occasion for me to have my first dance in public with the dauphin. “Soon you will be expected to dance together at the wedding of your uncle François, duke of Aumale, to the duchess Anne d’Este,” she said. “Great royalty as well as the highest nobility from all over Europe will be watching.” She must have seen how this unnerved me, but she smiled and added, “I am confident that you will perform faultlessly, Madame Marie.”
    For several weeks, the dancing master had been instructing the dauphin and me on the pavane, a simple dance with long gliding steps and a few
révérences
and bows. But Madame de Poitiers wanted us to dance the much more complicated courante.
    â€œQueen Catherine brought the courante to the French court from the Italian court of the Médicis,” Madame de Poitiers told me. “It will be sure to please her.”
    The steps of the courante were not difficult—two single steps and a double to the left, a little skip followed by the same steps to the right—but there were gestures and poses meant to accompany each step. “The gestures are the signs of love,” our dancing master explained. We were supposed to pretend that François was courting me; I was to refuse his advances until at last I feigned acceptance and we danced off together. We had practiced this for days, but we had not yet learned the gestures to the dancing master’s satisfaction. Now, with the queen herself and members of the court all watching intently, we were expected to perform it.
    I had dreaded this. It was not how I wished to celebrate my birthday. I looked to Lady Fleming for a way out. My governess, who had been supervising my dancing practice, glared at Madame de Poitiers—no one could fail to see the look of disdain that passed between them—but she did not argue with her. “You can do it, Marie,” said Lady Fleming. “It will be a good rehearsal.”
    At a sign from Madame de Poitiers, the musicians began to play. I did not recognize the tune. Surely it was not the same as the music played at our practice—this was so much faster! Poor little François looked frightened half to death. “Be brave,” I whispered to him as we took our places. He proceeded to stumble about clumsily while I urgently whispered instructions: “Whenever I turn my back, you must kneel and pretend to implore me.”
    â€œImplore you?” he asked, bewildered.
    â€œBeg me!” I ordered. It would have been so much easier if our roles were reversed!
    But he either backed away when he was supposed to step forward or knelt at the wrong time. With his every misstep, the duchess’s frown deepened. Lady Fleming forced an encouraging smile.
    When the music stopped at last, the dauphin had tears in his eyes; he forgot that he was supposed to bow to me, rushed to his mother for comfort, and buried his face in Queen Catherine’s lap, leaving me to make my
révérence
to an invisible partner.
    â€œMore practice is in order. The king returns tomorrow,” Madame de Poitiers announced sternly. “His Majesty will not be pleased.”
    Little François sobbed harder as the duchess led him away without a word of protest from his mother. I glanced at my governess.
    Lady Fleming shrugged and raised her eyebrows.
“Joyeux