While the rest of us shivered in bed at night, even after having covered ourselves with everything we could find to keep ourselves warm, Marie would be kneeling by the bed, her hands and feet blue with the cold, thanking God.
Marie was different from the rest of us, and it was Michelle and I who were the closer friends.
One day stands out more clearly in my memory of those early days than any other.
It was winter—always to be dreaded, for there was never enough wood to keep the fires going, and to be cold and hungry is so much worse than merely being hungry.
I did not realize it at the time, but it must have seemed very strange to our nurse and governess and the few attendants who were in the Hotel that, although we lived in such misery, the days were conducted as though our upbringing was the normal one for children of our rank.
We had our lessons every day; and on this occasion we were all seated at the table in the schoolroom and our governess was attempting to teach us, when suddenly the door opened and a strange creature stood there.
We children all stared at him in wonder.
He was very pale and his hair was in wild disorder. He wore an elaborately embroidered jacket, the splendor of which was impaired by a tear in the sleeve and stains down the front.
Our governess gave a little start and for a few seconds seemed uncertain what to do. Then she rose to her feet and bowed with great respect.
We children all sat staring at the intruder.
I caught my breath in terror when he approached the table, for he was truly an alarming sight.
“My children,” he began, and I noticed at once that he had one of the most musical voices I had ever heard.
Louis surprised me. He must have suddenly realized who the man was, for he rose from his chair and knelt before him.
The man stared down at him. He put out a hand and touched Louis’s head, and I saw the tears running down his sunken cheeks.
“You are Charles,” he said, in his beautiful voice. “Charles the Dauphin.”
“No, Sire,” replied Louis. “I am Louis the Dauphin.”
“But Charles . . . ”
“Charles is our younger brother now, Sire.”
“And what of Charles . . . Dauphin Charles . . . ?”
“He is dead, Sire. He was ill . . . and he died.”
The man stared ahead of him and his lips trembled. He smiled suddenly and said: “And you . . . Louis . . . you are now the Dauphin.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Louis . . . when did you last see your mother?”
“I do not remember. It was a long time ago.”
“My child, I have been ill . . . but I am better now. Yes. I shall be better now.” He looked at us children sitting there at the table watching this scene in bewilderment. He held out a hand to us.
We looked questioningly at our governess, who nodded to us, implying that we should rise and go to him.
He looked at us all in turn.
At length his eyes rested on me. “And you, little one?” I was surprised that I was no longer afraid of him.
“I am Katherine,” I said.
“Katherine, my dear child . . . God bless you.”
He turned to the governess. “How long have the children been living here . . . like this?”
She told him when we had come.
“These are the Children of France,” he said. “It is unbelievable that they should live so.”
“We were sent here, Sire. We have done our best.”
“I know that well,” he replied. “Now . . . it will be different. Everything that is needed will be sent. I shall command it to be done and there will be no delay.”
I remember no more of that scene, but I had learned something. The mad man of the Hotel de St.-Paul was our father and the King of France.
Read Jean Plaidy’s Queens of England series in historical order:
Copyright © 1963 by Jean Plaidy
Reader’s Group Guide copyright © 2006 by Three Rivers Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc. The excerpt is from The Queen’s Secret, to be published in 2007 by Three Rivers Press.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Three Rivers Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
www.crownpublishing.com
Three Rivers Press and the Tugboat design are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Originally published in hardcover in the United States by G. P. Putnam’s Sons, New York, in 1963.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Plaidy, Jean, 1906–
The captive Queen of Scots / Jean Plaidy.—1st pbk. ed.
p. cm.
1. Mary, Queen of Scots, 1542–1587—Fiction. 2. Scotland—History—Mary Stuart, 1542–1567—Fiction. 3. Great Britian—History—Elizabeth, 1558–1603—Fiction. 4. Queens—Scotland—Fiction. I. Title.
PR6015.I3C36 2006
823'.914—dc22
2006003183
eISBN: 978-0-307-35198-2
v3.0
