Disclaimer: Ever After is not mine, it belongs to Andy Tennant and all it's other copyright holders. This story is intended simply as a tribute.
Reflections - So Life Goes On
Chapter One
Thump!
Paulette punched the bread dough. "That's for selling Danielle," she muttered under her breath.
Thump!
"That's for stopping us from helping her."
Thump!
"That's for hurting her in the first place."
"Paulette, what are you doing? You're supposed to punch it lightly not flatten it." Louise wrung her hands and leant over the mangled dough. "If you ruin the breakfast loaf we'll all be in trouble."
"What does it matter?" Paulette sneered. "It's only for her."
"Oh, do keep your voice down. What if she hears you?" Louise was looking towards the doorway, as though she expected the Baroness to appear there at any moment.
Thump!
"And that's for His High-and-Mighty Highness and his heartbreaking ways."
"Paulette, no! That's treason!" whispered Louise.
Thump!
"And that's for me." Paulette shaped the ruined dough into a blob and threw it into the bread crock. "May you choke on it, milady!"
Louise stared at the mess that was to have been the breakfast loaf and shuddered. She couldn't remember ever seeing Paulette so angry. It was going to be a bad day.
The poor excuse for a loaf had been scraped out of the crock and was half cooked when Jacqueline walked into the kitchen. She looked around a little nervously then in a timid voice said "May I be of some help?"
Louise stared at Jacqueline as though she were a changeling. "You want to help in the kitchen, miss?" This was something of a surprise. Jacqueline usually kept to her room or the more formal parts of the manor house.
"That'll be the day," Paulette muttered as she threw three eggs, shells and all, into a pan and added a handful of sawdust. "What?!" she said as Louise pushed her away from the kitchen fireplace, "I'm cooking the Baroness's breakfast."
"Go and get some wood or something," said the older servant. "I'm not going to let you destroy any more food."
"Silly old woman," Paulette's voice held the affection of very old friendship.
"You aren't exactly a spring chicken yourself. Now get before I cook you for breakfast!"
Paulette shook her head and shared a sad smile with her old friend before she left the room. Only a few short days ago Danielle would have joined them in their light-hearted battles. Now their banter was a painful reminder of the girl the Baroness had sold.
Jacqueline had backed away from the women and stood playing with her hands. She didn't like Scenes. Her mother made Scenes and they usually ended in some form of insult against Danielle or herself. Now that Danielle was gone Jacqueline guessed that she'd be on the receiving end of her mother's anger. Mustering up a little courage she walked toward Louise and said, "I want to help. I couldn't help Danielle and now she's gone. Maybe if I help you then my mother will be less ... hard on ...you."
"Thank you, miss," Louise said in her most polite manner. "But won't your mother get angry with you?"
"Well, Mother is always angry with me so I can not see that it will matter," Jacqueline replied with a lightness she didn't feel.
Louise pondered the girl. There was something else going on here. She'd work out what it was. Jacqueline was usually easy to read. Louise just couldn't see what she was up to - yet.
********
The old horse moved restlessly in his stall, jerking his head away from the chaff bag Maurice was trying to put over the beast's nose.
"Come on now, stop making a fuss." Maurice patted the old horse. "She's not here. You're just going to have to put up with me feeding you."
The horse flicked his head away from Maurice's grasp. Frustrated the elderly man threw the chaff bag onto the stall floor, "Starve then you stupid old..." Maurice sighed. What was he doing? None of this was the animal's fault. He bent down and picked up the bag.
"I wish she was here too," Maurice leant against the horse's neck, remembering Danielle - remembering how much she'd loved her home and how much he missed seeing her in it.
If anyone had entered the stables at that moment, Maurice would have sworn the tears on his cheeks were from hay fever.
********
The monastery's chapel was quiet and peaceful. Laurent eyed the serene room with misgivings. It was too quiet. Captain Laurent didn't trust silence. It usually meant that something was waiting to spring out and surprise him.
He entered the main church and acknowledged the cross, then peered around the pillar and behind the statues as he wandered across the stone floor. Nope, no armed ruffians were hiding anywhere. Pity. A good fight would have cured his boredom. Perhaps he could check the well for gypsies or dragons.
"Good evening my son."
Laurent spun on his heel and looked for the owner of the voice. At first he couldn't see anyone then he noticed that the curtains on one side of the confessional were closed.
"Would you like to make your confession?" The vaguely familiar voice asked in a tone that held as much command as question.
'What the...?' Laurent hesitated, he disliked making his confession because the priests usually asked questions that awoke memories he'd rather forget. Laurent heard the sound of a tapping foot. 'Oh well, it'll use up a little time.' The Royal Guardsman entered the open side of the confessional and closed the curtains.
As he knelt, Laurent squinted thought the slits in the panel, trying to identify his confessor. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been four days since my last confession."
The priest's voice held a trace of humour, "Four days, my son. What could you have done in such a short time?"
"A lot believe me, Father." Laurent, safely hidden from prying eyes and duty, grinned and leant back on his heels. "Uh, I have had violent thoughts towards the throne."
"You shock me my son. What sort of thoughts?"
"When my Charge was praying in this very church I was standing behind him. I found myself wondering how far he'd go across the floor if I kicked him up his Royal backside."
"Why ... why such a thought Cap... my son?" The priest seemed to be having a little trouble speaking.
"In less than a week he's: run away; broken his word; declared himself madly in love with a lady; followed her night and day; got himself and her lost in the woods overnight, damaging her reputation; and publicly humiliated the same woman at the first sign of trouble. And now he's declaring that he'll sacrifice himself for the love of France." Laurent chuckled, "If I didn't respect my Liege so much I'd probably strangle my Charge."
"You don't respect your Charge?!"
"I do but not as much as I once did. He's been very foolish and unchivalrous. He hasn't even tried to apologise to the lady he humiliated." Laurent removed a speck of fluff from the sleeve of his uniform.
"And so you wanted to kick his Royal backside?"
"Uh huh. That or toss him down the nearest privy - head first."
A strangled sound came from the other side of the panel.
"Are you unwell, Father?" Laurent knew that his confessor was laughing and trying to hide it. It was a very familiar laugh. Too familiar.
"Quite ... well ... thank you." The elderly man cleared his throat. "Do you have anything else to confess?"
"A few impure thoughts about a certain little mare I met at the Royal Masque. You'll be relieved to know that I did not act on them."
"Glad to hear it my son. Say two Hail Mary's as penance for the thoughts against your charge and go in peace."
"What about the impure thoughts?"
"Oh I never stand in the way of love or break a confidence, Captain." The confessor said very seriously. "Though you really should not think such thoughts of your Prince it could get you into trouble."
Laurent leant against the screen and said quietly, "Don't believe a word of it. And you think you wouldn't be in trouble if Rome heard you were impersonating a priest? Would you Leonardo?"
"What? How did you...? Leonardo da Vinci leapt out of the confessional and pulled the curtain open.
The Captain stood up, walked past him and out of the church. The soldier's laughter echoing back to Leonardo.
The old painter grinned and scratched his chin. "I wonder who is his 'little mare'?" Leonardo muttered. The artist froze when he caught sight of Father Armand standing by the church door; the expression of severe disapproval on the priest's face chilled Leonardo to the bone.
"Umm, would you take my confession, Father?" Leonardo asked nervously.
********
Jacqueline was seated on the side of her bed, combing her hair while she readied to retire for the night. The rhythmic movement of her hand and the comb began to relax her and her thoughts turned to the events of the day. It had been satisfying to find that even she was capable of doing so many things. Maybe her mother was wrong. Maybe Jacqueline was good for something.
After Paulette had ruined the breakfast eggs, Louise had sent Jacqueline to collect more eggs from the barn. Finding the eggs had taken some time as the hens had insisted on getting under her feet or sitting on the eggs and pecking at her. Eventually she'd collected enough eggs for the meal and returned to the kitchen in time to set the breakfast table.
Later in the day she'd folded the previous day's washing, helped Paulette to collect the honey for dinner and collected wildflowers for the main rooms.
The kind words of thanks from Louise and Paulette had been nice. They'd made her feel wanted. Jacqueline sighed; the servants had obviously needed any sort of help, no matter how hopeless, with Danielle gone.
Ah, Danielle. Jacqueline was instantly filled with confusing emotions whenever she thought of her step-sister. All of them so jumbled with her thoughts that Jacqueline didn't know what she felt, except the familiar feeling of failure she lived with every day.
It was true that if Danielle were here she would have done so much more to help out than Jacqueline had. Jacqueline believed in her heart that that was because her step-sister was not only more capable than herself but was also a much better person. It must be true because Jacqueline's own mother had told her so often enough, although not in so many words. The Baroness hadn't even noticed that Jacqueline had been helping the servants. She never noticed.
Receiving thanks from the servants had been a strange and pleasant experience. Come to think of it, Jacqueline couldn't remember them ever thanking her before. Actually she couldn't remember anyone other than Danielle ever thanking her alone for anything. Not even Mother.
'Oh well,' thought Jacqueline, 'that's her loss.'
A sudden realisation hit Jacqueline and she sat frozen, the comb falling from her hand and landing on her lap. Something had changed. She didn't know what or why but somehow Jacqueline knew that she didn't need her mother's approval. Why? Was she such a bad daughter? Did she dislike her mother's behaviour that much? Had she just given up wanting to be noticed? Or was it something else?
Perplexed Jacqueline put the comb away, said her prayers and climbed into bed. It would be a long time before her tumbling thoughts allowed her to sleep.
********
Finally! Laurent wasn't an irreligious man but two days and two nights at the monastery with Prince Henry spouting depressing poetry and the monks chanting plainsong over and over had sorely tried his patience. If it hadn't been for Leonardo's pranks and interesting conversation he would have been bored witless.
The sound of voices was coming closer through the early morning air. The Prince, Leonardo and Father Armand were making their way down the path from the monastery gates to the waiting horses and coach. As they approached Laurent heard Henry thank the Father for his guidance and patience.
His patience?!
Leonardo looked up at Laurent and winked, almost as thought he'd read the Captain's thoughts. Laurent smothered his grin in a cough. He doubted Henry was in the mood for humour, especially from his guardsmen. He swung his gaze over the road ahead. Everything appeared in order. Laurent signalled to the guards and the coachman to be ready to move out.
********
"I will not believe it! It's impossible and I will not accept it!"
Jacqueline sat quietly in the corner of the room and tried to appear invisible. It was the safest thing to do when her mother was in as bad mood as she was in at the moment. She would gladly have run off to spend some time with Louise and Paulette but it was Saturday, Market Day, and they were selling produce in Hautefort town.
"But mother, Lulu said that her mother was certain. The King has sent for that Spanish pig and she'll marry Henry! It's not fair! He's mine not hers!" Marguerite threw herself on the chaise and began screeching and drumming her feet on the ground. The sound of Marguerite's screeching made Jacqueline's teeth hurt and she put her hands over her ears.
"Nonsense." Rodmilla stalked past Jacqueline who was quivering with distress and grabbed her elder daughter's arm. "Stop that! Marguerite, dearest. Henry will marry you. I shall make sure of that! Besides, Spain is a long way away. It will take them weeks to get here."
"But Lulu said that the Spanish King and Queen had gone to Rome and are on their way back to Spain. Lulu said they were waiting at the coast for the message. That they could be here at any time."
Marguerite's whine was beginning to really annoy Jacqueline. Much as she cared for her sister, as any good sister must, Jacqueline couldn't imagine Marguerite as Henry's Princess.
"It would be wise, Marguerite, if you were to listen less to Lulu Dupre and more to your mother." Rodmilla glared at Marguerite, "Or you'll end up a fat old maid like your sister."
Jacqueline tried to look calm and composed and pretend that the comment hadn't hurt. From the look of triumph on her mother's face, Jacqueline knew she hadn't succeeded.
********
The old horse continued doggedly down the road. Paulette walked beside it, coaxing the animal pulling the cart with softly spoken threats. She wasn't in the mood for kind words.
"Something's coming!" From her seat on top of the cart Louise pointed at a slow moving cloud of dust up ahead. Eventually the cloud resolved itself into Prince Henry, a coach and a group of guardsmen travelling at a slow trot.
"Afternoon ladies," Leonardo called loudly from the coach window. "Look out for the potholes ahead."
"Uh, thank you, sir," Louise called back.
"Very funny Leonardo!" called a voice from further down the road. The women turned and saw a Captain of the Royal Guard walking down the road, leading his limping horse. When he got closer they saw the dirt on his uniform from where he'd fallen off his horse.
"Court artist. Court jester more like," muttered the soldier.
Paulette and Louise held back their laughter until the Captain had passed them.
Trudging down the road, Laurent squared his shoulders and pretended that he couldn't hear the two servants giggling.
********
Later that night Louise told Maurice of Leonardo and the Captain and his comments.
The old man smiled at his wife as they sat by the ebbing kitchen fire. It was good to see her laugh. The image of Leonardo da Vinci in a jester's outfit popped into Maurice's mind and he smirked.
Leonardo...
Maurice had a sudden thought. He turned to Louise. "Leonardo? Did you tell him of Danielle?"
Louise froze, "I didn't think of it! The Prince was there too. He might have..." Louise stared at her husband, her face showing her anguish. "Oh Maurice, I failed her!"
Maurice leant over and put his arms around his wife. "You didn't have time. You told me yourself. And Paulette was there too, if there was time she would have spoken." The old man held his wife tightly in his arms and said quietly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have anything."
Maurice could feel Louise shaking with the emotions that ran through her.
"It was that man's fault!" she said harshly. She looked up into Maurice's eyes. "That horrible monster was at the market today."
"le Pieu?"
Louise nodded. "He and those filthy men of his picked over the produce. He said the vegetables were rotten and the chickens lice-ridden." Louise paused and Maurice could see the distress in her eyes.
"Tell me," he whispered.
"He said that he had the only thing of true value from the manor and ... and that he'd be sure to get his money's worth." Louise buried her face into Maurice's chest and held him tight.
Maurice said nothing but held his wife close until she was calmer. He tried not to think of where Danielle was or of what was happening to her.
Maurice stared toward the kitchen fire. To the place where Danielle had often fallen asleep while reading her father's book. "I don't know how, Danielle, but I'm going to get you help. I swear it on my life."
********
Less than two leagues away Pierre le Pieu sat in his favourite chair by a roaring fire and listened to the warming lullaby of Danielle de Barbarac's grief ridden sobs echoing from under the door of her cold cell.
Smiling grimly he lifted his hand and allowed the cell door key to catch the light.
"A firm hand and time, that's the way to break the wildest beast." Pierre's smile grew broader, "And unlock its true feelings for its master." He continued twisting the key in the firelight and basking in the sound of Danielle's breaking heart.
"A firm hand and time."
1
Reflections - So Life Goes On
Chapter One
Thump!
Paulette punched the bread dough. "That's for selling Danielle," she muttered under her breath.
Thump!
"That's for stopping us from helping her."
Thump!
"That's for hurting her in the first place."
"Paulette, what are you doing? You're supposed to punch it lightly not flatten it." Louise wrung her hands and leant over the mangled dough. "If you ruin the breakfast loaf we'll all be in trouble."
"What does it matter?" Paulette sneered. "It's only for her."
"Oh, do keep your voice down. What if she hears you?" Louise was looking towards the doorway, as though she expected the Baroness to appear there at any moment.
Thump!
"And that's for His High-and-Mighty Highness and his heartbreaking ways."
"Paulette, no! That's treason!" whispered Louise.
Thump!
"And that's for me." Paulette shaped the ruined dough into a blob and threw it into the bread crock. "May you choke on it, milady!"
Louise stared at the mess that was to have been the breakfast loaf and shuddered. She couldn't remember ever seeing Paulette so angry. It was going to be a bad day.
The poor excuse for a loaf had been scraped out of the crock and was half cooked when Jacqueline walked into the kitchen. She looked around a little nervously then in a timid voice said "May I be of some help?"
Louise stared at Jacqueline as though she were a changeling. "You want to help in the kitchen, miss?" This was something of a surprise. Jacqueline usually kept to her room or the more formal parts of the manor house.
"That'll be the day," Paulette muttered as she threw three eggs, shells and all, into a pan and added a handful of sawdust. "What?!" she said as Louise pushed her away from the kitchen fireplace, "I'm cooking the Baroness's breakfast."
"Go and get some wood or something," said the older servant. "I'm not going to let you destroy any more food."
"Silly old woman," Paulette's voice held the affection of very old friendship.
"You aren't exactly a spring chicken yourself. Now get before I cook you for breakfast!"
Paulette shook her head and shared a sad smile with her old friend before she left the room. Only a few short days ago Danielle would have joined them in their light-hearted battles. Now their banter was a painful reminder of the girl the Baroness had sold.
Jacqueline had backed away from the women and stood playing with her hands. She didn't like Scenes. Her mother made Scenes and they usually ended in some form of insult against Danielle or herself. Now that Danielle was gone Jacqueline guessed that she'd be on the receiving end of her mother's anger. Mustering up a little courage she walked toward Louise and said, "I want to help. I couldn't help Danielle and now she's gone. Maybe if I help you then my mother will be less ... hard on ...you."
"Thank you, miss," Louise said in her most polite manner. "But won't your mother get angry with you?"
"Well, Mother is always angry with me so I can not see that it will matter," Jacqueline replied with a lightness she didn't feel.
Louise pondered the girl. There was something else going on here. She'd work out what it was. Jacqueline was usually easy to read. Louise just couldn't see what she was up to - yet.
********
The old horse moved restlessly in his stall, jerking his head away from the chaff bag Maurice was trying to put over the beast's nose.
"Come on now, stop making a fuss." Maurice patted the old horse. "She's not here. You're just going to have to put up with me feeding you."
The horse flicked his head away from Maurice's grasp. Frustrated the elderly man threw the chaff bag onto the stall floor, "Starve then you stupid old..." Maurice sighed. What was he doing? None of this was the animal's fault. He bent down and picked up the bag.
"I wish she was here too," Maurice leant against the horse's neck, remembering Danielle - remembering how much she'd loved her home and how much he missed seeing her in it.
If anyone had entered the stables at that moment, Maurice would have sworn the tears on his cheeks were from hay fever.
********
The monastery's chapel was quiet and peaceful. Laurent eyed the serene room with misgivings. It was too quiet. Captain Laurent didn't trust silence. It usually meant that something was waiting to spring out and surprise him.
He entered the main church and acknowledged the cross, then peered around the pillar and behind the statues as he wandered across the stone floor. Nope, no armed ruffians were hiding anywhere. Pity. A good fight would have cured his boredom. Perhaps he could check the well for gypsies or dragons.
"Good evening my son."
Laurent spun on his heel and looked for the owner of the voice. At first he couldn't see anyone then he noticed that the curtains on one side of the confessional were closed.
"Would you like to make your confession?" The vaguely familiar voice asked in a tone that held as much command as question.
'What the...?' Laurent hesitated, he disliked making his confession because the priests usually asked questions that awoke memories he'd rather forget. Laurent heard the sound of a tapping foot. 'Oh well, it'll use up a little time.' The Royal Guardsman entered the open side of the confessional and closed the curtains.
As he knelt, Laurent squinted thought the slits in the panel, trying to identify his confessor. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been four days since my last confession."
The priest's voice held a trace of humour, "Four days, my son. What could you have done in such a short time?"
"A lot believe me, Father." Laurent, safely hidden from prying eyes and duty, grinned and leant back on his heels. "Uh, I have had violent thoughts towards the throne."
"You shock me my son. What sort of thoughts?"
"When my Charge was praying in this very church I was standing behind him. I found myself wondering how far he'd go across the floor if I kicked him up his Royal backside."
"Why ... why such a thought Cap... my son?" The priest seemed to be having a little trouble speaking.
"In less than a week he's: run away; broken his word; declared himself madly in love with a lady; followed her night and day; got himself and her lost in the woods overnight, damaging her reputation; and publicly humiliated the same woman at the first sign of trouble. And now he's declaring that he'll sacrifice himself for the love of France." Laurent chuckled, "If I didn't respect my Liege so much I'd probably strangle my Charge."
"You don't respect your Charge?!"
"I do but not as much as I once did. He's been very foolish and unchivalrous. He hasn't even tried to apologise to the lady he humiliated." Laurent removed a speck of fluff from the sleeve of his uniform.
"And so you wanted to kick his Royal backside?"
"Uh huh. That or toss him down the nearest privy - head first."
A strangled sound came from the other side of the panel.
"Are you unwell, Father?" Laurent knew that his confessor was laughing and trying to hide it. It was a very familiar laugh. Too familiar.
"Quite ... well ... thank you." The elderly man cleared his throat. "Do you have anything else to confess?"
"A few impure thoughts about a certain little mare I met at the Royal Masque. You'll be relieved to know that I did not act on them."
"Glad to hear it my son. Say two Hail Mary's as penance for the thoughts against your charge and go in peace."
"What about the impure thoughts?"
"Oh I never stand in the way of love or break a confidence, Captain." The confessor said very seriously. "Though you really should not think such thoughts of your Prince it could get you into trouble."
Laurent leant against the screen and said quietly, "Don't believe a word of it. And you think you wouldn't be in trouble if Rome heard you were impersonating a priest? Would you Leonardo?"
"What? How did you...? Leonardo da Vinci leapt out of the confessional and pulled the curtain open.
The Captain stood up, walked past him and out of the church. The soldier's laughter echoing back to Leonardo.
The old painter grinned and scratched his chin. "I wonder who is his 'little mare'?" Leonardo muttered. The artist froze when he caught sight of Father Armand standing by the church door; the expression of severe disapproval on the priest's face chilled Leonardo to the bone.
"Umm, would you take my confession, Father?" Leonardo asked nervously.
********
Jacqueline was seated on the side of her bed, combing her hair while she readied to retire for the night. The rhythmic movement of her hand and the comb began to relax her and her thoughts turned to the events of the day. It had been satisfying to find that even she was capable of doing so many things. Maybe her mother was wrong. Maybe Jacqueline was good for something.
After Paulette had ruined the breakfast eggs, Louise had sent Jacqueline to collect more eggs from the barn. Finding the eggs had taken some time as the hens had insisted on getting under her feet or sitting on the eggs and pecking at her. Eventually she'd collected enough eggs for the meal and returned to the kitchen in time to set the breakfast table.
Later in the day she'd folded the previous day's washing, helped Paulette to collect the honey for dinner and collected wildflowers for the main rooms.
The kind words of thanks from Louise and Paulette had been nice. They'd made her feel wanted. Jacqueline sighed; the servants had obviously needed any sort of help, no matter how hopeless, with Danielle gone.
Ah, Danielle. Jacqueline was instantly filled with confusing emotions whenever she thought of her step-sister. All of them so jumbled with her thoughts that Jacqueline didn't know what she felt, except the familiar feeling of failure she lived with every day.
It was true that if Danielle were here she would have done so much more to help out than Jacqueline had. Jacqueline believed in her heart that that was because her step-sister was not only more capable than herself but was also a much better person. It must be true because Jacqueline's own mother had told her so often enough, although not in so many words. The Baroness hadn't even noticed that Jacqueline had been helping the servants. She never noticed.
Receiving thanks from the servants had been a strange and pleasant experience. Come to think of it, Jacqueline couldn't remember them ever thanking her before. Actually she couldn't remember anyone other than Danielle ever thanking her alone for anything. Not even Mother.
'Oh well,' thought Jacqueline, 'that's her loss.'
A sudden realisation hit Jacqueline and she sat frozen, the comb falling from her hand and landing on her lap. Something had changed. She didn't know what or why but somehow Jacqueline knew that she didn't need her mother's approval. Why? Was she such a bad daughter? Did she dislike her mother's behaviour that much? Had she just given up wanting to be noticed? Or was it something else?
Perplexed Jacqueline put the comb away, said her prayers and climbed into bed. It would be a long time before her tumbling thoughts allowed her to sleep.
********
Finally! Laurent wasn't an irreligious man but two days and two nights at the monastery with Prince Henry spouting depressing poetry and the monks chanting plainsong over and over had sorely tried his patience. If it hadn't been for Leonardo's pranks and interesting conversation he would have been bored witless.
The sound of voices was coming closer through the early morning air. The Prince, Leonardo and Father Armand were making their way down the path from the monastery gates to the waiting horses and coach. As they approached Laurent heard Henry thank the Father for his guidance and patience.
His patience?!
Leonardo looked up at Laurent and winked, almost as thought he'd read the Captain's thoughts. Laurent smothered his grin in a cough. He doubted Henry was in the mood for humour, especially from his guardsmen. He swung his gaze over the road ahead. Everything appeared in order. Laurent signalled to the guards and the coachman to be ready to move out.
********
"I will not believe it! It's impossible and I will not accept it!"
Jacqueline sat quietly in the corner of the room and tried to appear invisible. It was the safest thing to do when her mother was in as bad mood as she was in at the moment. She would gladly have run off to spend some time with Louise and Paulette but it was Saturday, Market Day, and they were selling produce in Hautefort town.
"But mother, Lulu said that her mother was certain. The King has sent for that Spanish pig and she'll marry Henry! It's not fair! He's mine not hers!" Marguerite threw herself on the chaise and began screeching and drumming her feet on the ground. The sound of Marguerite's screeching made Jacqueline's teeth hurt and she put her hands over her ears.
"Nonsense." Rodmilla stalked past Jacqueline who was quivering with distress and grabbed her elder daughter's arm. "Stop that! Marguerite, dearest. Henry will marry you. I shall make sure of that! Besides, Spain is a long way away. It will take them weeks to get here."
"But Lulu said that the Spanish King and Queen had gone to Rome and are on their way back to Spain. Lulu said they were waiting at the coast for the message. That they could be here at any time."
Marguerite's whine was beginning to really annoy Jacqueline. Much as she cared for her sister, as any good sister must, Jacqueline couldn't imagine Marguerite as Henry's Princess.
"It would be wise, Marguerite, if you were to listen less to Lulu Dupre and more to your mother." Rodmilla glared at Marguerite, "Or you'll end up a fat old maid like your sister."
Jacqueline tried to look calm and composed and pretend that the comment hadn't hurt. From the look of triumph on her mother's face, Jacqueline knew she hadn't succeeded.
********
The old horse continued doggedly down the road. Paulette walked beside it, coaxing the animal pulling the cart with softly spoken threats. She wasn't in the mood for kind words.
"Something's coming!" From her seat on top of the cart Louise pointed at a slow moving cloud of dust up ahead. Eventually the cloud resolved itself into Prince Henry, a coach and a group of guardsmen travelling at a slow trot.
"Afternoon ladies," Leonardo called loudly from the coach window. "Look out for the potholes ahead."
"Uh, thank you, sir," Louise called back.
"Very funny Leonardo!" called a voice from further down the road. The women turned and saw a Captain of the Royal Guard walking down the road, leading his limping horse. When he got closer they saw the dirt on his uniform from where he'd fallen off his horse.
"Court artist. Court jester more like," muttered the soldier.
Paulette and Louise held back their laughter until the Captain had passed them.
Trudging down the road, Laurent squared his shoulders and pretended that he couldn't hear the two servants giggling.
********
Later that night Louise told Maurice of Leonardo and the Captain and his comments.
The old man smiled at his wife as they sat by the ebbing kitchen fire. It was good to see her laugh. The image of Leonardo da Vinci in a jester's outfit popped into Maurice's mind and he smirked.
Leonardo...
Maurice had a sudden thought. He turned to Louise. "Leonardo? Did you tell him of Danielle?"
Louise froze, "I didn't think of it! The Prince was there too. He might have..." Louise stared at her husband, her face showing her anguish. "Oh Maurice, I failed her!"
Maurice leant over and put his arms around his wife. "You didn't have time. You told me yourself. And Paulette was there too, if there was time she would have spoken." The old man held his wife tightly in his arms and said quietly, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have anything."
Maurice could feel Louise shaking with the emotions that ran through her.
"It was that man's fault!" she said harshly. She looked up into Maurice's eyes. "That horrible monster was at the market today."
"le Pieu?"
Louise nodded. "He and those filthy men of his picked over the produce. He said the vegetables were rotten and the chickens lice-ridden." Louise paused and Maurice could see the distress in her eyes.
"Tell me," he whispered.
"He said that he had the only thing of true value from the manor and ... and that he'd be sure to get his money's worth." Louise buried her face into Maurice's chest and held him tight.
Maurice said nothing but held his wife close until she was calmer. He tried not to think of where Danielle was or of what was happening to her.
Maurice stared toward the kitchen fire. To the place where Danielle had often fallen asleep while reading her father's book. "I don't know how, Danielle, but I'm going to get you help. I swear it on my life."
********
Less than two leagues away Pierre le Pieu sat in his favourite chair by a roaring fire and listened to the warming lullaby of Danielle de Barbarac's grief ridden sobs echoing from under the door of her cold cell.
Smiling grimly he lifted his hand and allowed the cell door key to catch the light.
"A firm hand and time, that's the way to break the wildest beast." Pierre's smile grew broader, "And unlock its true feelings for its master." He continued twisting the key in the firelight and basking in the sound of Danielle's breaking heart.
"A firm hand and time."
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