We do not speak much as I assist her in her evening toilette, for I am afraid if I open my mouth all the secrets I am holding will spill out. After she has washed away the two days’ travel, a simple meal is sent up. I keep her company while she picks at her food, then I help her into her bed, and she dismisses me for the night. But my time with her has brought all my secrets swarming to the surface. I must now do my best to convince Captain Dunois of my suspicions.
I find him in the great hall with Beast and de Lornay finishing off the remnants of a meal. The men look up from the demolished duck and capon. "We assumed you would dine with the duchess,” Captain Dunois says sheepishly.
I nod. Let him think I ate upstairs with her. It matters not, for I have no appetite and am not sure I could choke down a single bite. “I must talk with you.”
Dunois glances at Beast and de Lornay. “Alone?”
“No, they know some of it already.” I slip my hand into my pocket and close it around the heavy gold signet ring. “I believe Chancellor Crunard has betrayed us all.”
“Crunard?” His eyes widen with astonishment and disbelief, but I am relieved he does not dismiss me out of hand.
“Yes, my lord. It is a long and complicated story, one that Duval did not think you would accept without proof.”
“You have this proof?”
“Of a sort.” I have had two days on the road to arrange my thoughts into some semblance of order, so I am sorely frustrated to find myself groping for words. “I first grew uneasy about him when you told us of the chancellor not better defending Duval on the night the council discussed his arrest, for the chancellor was behind much of Duval’s actions. I grew even more suspicious when I received word from my convent that Crunard had told them Duval was involved in his mother’s plots, as that was blatantly false.”
Dunois’s thick brows draw down in a scowl. “The chancellor told them that?”
“Yes, but there is more.” I spend the next hour laying out all my evidence against Chancellor Crunard: the footpad attack on us, the signet ring, the death of Nemours, and the outright lies he told the convent.
when I am done, Dunois sits silent and brooding for a long time. At last he shakes his head. "While I can see how your reasoning has led you to believe this, I cannot help but feel there is some other explanation we are missing.”
“But what of the signet ring? Surely that is proof.”
Dunois rises to his feet. “It is strange, I’ll grant you that, but proof of treason? And on such a grand scale?” He shakes his head again. “I cannot bring myself to believe that of the chancellor. what does Duval think?”
“Duval’s mind was too consumed by the poison Crunard has given him to use reason.”
His head snaps up at this. “Poison? Duval is being poisoned?”
“Yes, my lord. Yet another betrayal to lay at the chancellor’s feet.”
His face turns to chalk. “I thought he had merely gone into hiding.”
“It is quite advanced,” I tell him gently. “He cannot move his legs. The paralysis will move to his lungs next, then his heart. Perhaps it already has.”
The silence is filled with the crackle and hiss of the fire.
“Sweet Jesu!” Dunois says, scrubbing his face with his hands. “If what you are saying is true, we cannot return to Guérande should this gambit fail. And Isabeau . . .” He looks up at me, his face haunted.
“You make certain this gambit does not fail,” I tell him. “I will think of something to free Isabeau once we have finished here.”
Chapter Fifty
The next day is Sunday, and the duchess spends the morning in prayer, but I am far too restless for such pursuits. I cross to the window and stare out at the rich woodland that surrounds the hunting lodge, wondering if my letter has reached the convent and, if it has, if the abbess believes me. I wish bitterly that Annith had written to me before I left. even if she has learned the answers I seek, Vanth will never find me here.
Like a tongue poking at a painful tooth, my mind goes back to Duval. At our parting — should I have done something different? And what of Crunard? He has always been suspicious of Duval’s disappearance. will he come looking for him once I am gone?
Or perhaps Duval will die of the poison before Crunard finds him.
That thought is like pouring salt into a fresh wound and prods me to grab my cloak and go outside. Le Palais is on a ridge that overlooks the Loire River and the valley below. The chill wind whips at my hair and tugs at my cloak as I stare down at the city ramparts. what are those traitors plotting? I do not trust them, and I do not like Anne being this close to whatever they have planned.
I hear a step behind me, and I turn to find the duchess bundled up in her ermine-lined cloak, picking her way along the path. “Shouldn’t you be resting, Your Grace?”
“I cannot. My mind will not hold still.” She comes to stand next to me and together we stare down into the valley, to the imposing high walls of Nantes and the blue and yellow banners flying from the ramparts.