Queen's Ransom by Fiona Buckley

Author:Fiona Buckley
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9780743489096
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 1999-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

If anyone had asked me, I would have said the court of Queen Elizabeth was a place of formality and protocol, and that Elizabeth was the most regal of queens.

Compared to Catherine de Médicis, queen mother of France and regent, until the young King Charles, who was still only a boy of eleven, should reach years of discretion, Elizabeth was as easy to approach as a stallholder on market day.

We began by going straight to the English ambassador, Nicholas Throckmorton. He was thin of face, with sharp blue eyes and a fair, pointed little beard, which reminded me somewhat of Cecil’s, and a tired air. We found that he knew the proper procedures and was willing to put them into operation for us, but he thought there might be some delay.

“I am a Huguenot sympathizer,” he said frankly. “I do my best but I am not popular with Queen Catherine.”

With such a person as the ambassador, I had been frank about the real nature of my message. This, too, made him doubtful. “I’m not sure how welcome an offer of mediation from Elizabeth will be. Still, you have your orders. Though you are a Lady of the Presence Chamber, you say? An unusual choice for a royal messenger, surely?”

A Lady of the Presence Chamber is nothing much in the court hierarchy, and isn’t usually chosen even to transmit conventional messages. I explained, however, that Elizabeth particularly wanted an unobtrusive messenger, and he accepted this with a nod of understanding.

“Queen Elizabeth knows the value of making contact with other rulers. She never misses an opportunity,” he said in tones halfway between respect and indulgence. “You were coming to France, and represented such an opportunity, no doubt.”

He found us lodgings in an official residence, sent word through the official channels that he wished to present us to Her Majesty Queen Catherine, and told us next day that we had been lucky. The queen was at the palace of St. Germain, to the west of Paris, and we could be received in two days’ time. However, there were things that we must know . . .

He then explained the details of the ceremony surrounding presentations such as ours. They were incredible. We were rehearsed beforehand as though learning the steps of an intricate dance. We would be greeted by such and such officials. We must speak here, be silent there, curtsy or bow to such an extent in one place, to another extent in another, and not at all somewhere else; do this, avoid that . . .

I remembered my first presentation to Elizabeth, and how I was overwhelmed by what now seemed like very simple instructions. I wondered what would happen at the French court if one made a mistake. Would the culprit be instantly conducted to the royal menagerie and thrown to the lions?

Jenkinson was still calling himself Van Weede and keeping out of the light so those who were to be presented numbered only three: myself, Helene, and Luke Blanchard.

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