I do not know why I am drawn to him. He is not as pretty as de Lornay or as easy to be with as Beast. His brother has more charming manners, and yet . . .
It is Duval who sets my heart to racing, who addles my wits, who makes me short of breath. For even when he is angry, he is kind, and not the mere surface kindness of good manners, but a true caring. Or at least, the appearance of true caring, for I am well aware it could all be an act. An act designed to earn my trust. And just like some poor, dumb rabbit, I have stumbled into his snare.
Chapter Twenty-eight
It does not take but three days for the duchess and Nemours to fall in love, and who could blame them? Nemours is young and handsome and kind, but there is a depth to him as well, for he has known sorrow, just as our duchess has. It does not hurt that he has come to rescue her, nor that she is a true damsel in distress, surrounded as she is by fire-breathing barons. It is as romantic as any troubadour’s tale.
But she does not let this go to her head. During these three days, she and Duval hammer out the most favorable betrothal terms possible. If they can present a strong, solid contract for marriage to the Privy Council, it will be all the harder for her councilors to refuse.
Everyone is in an uproar over d’Albret’s threat of war. There are meetings upon meetings as the council and barons discuss how best to address this newest menace. Meetings the duchess begs off from now and then, pleading a headache. Her ambitious guardians are all too happy to have her out of the way while they plot and plan her duchy’s future.
The Privy Council meets in the duchess’s private chamber, away from the prying eyes and straining ears of the court. Two men-at-arms stand at the door to her rooms. However, no matter how well trained they are, they cannot see around corners, and there is an antechamber that abuts the solar that could easily be used to eavesdrop.
Duval has put me in this room to act as secondary guard. But there is no rule that says I cannot guard and listen at the same time.
This wall is every bit as thick as the last one I tried to listen through, so I head directly for the window and perch myself on the sill. The murmur of voices is stronger here, although I will be hard-pressed to explain why I am embroidering while hanging out the window if someone should happen upon me. even so, I know the abbess will want a full report on the deliberations.
Chancellor Crunard’s deep rumble calls the meeting to order. Someone wants to know why this unexpected meeting has been called, and by the way his voice sets my teeth on edge, I am sure it is Marshal Rieux.
“I have called this meeting.” Anne’s voice is easy to discern. “But I will let my lord Duval explain the why of it.” when Duval finishes telling of the Nemours offer, there is a small uproar from the council members.
“How has this happened?” Madame Dinan asks, as if it is a disaster and not a boon. “There has been no envoy from Nemours.”
“No open one, no,” Duval says. His words cause another wave of outrage from the council.
"Why did Nemours come to you?” Marshal Rieux asks, his vanity and pomposity sorely pricked by this breach in protocol. “You are not regent here; stop acting like one. Or is that what you are angling for?”
“If he wanted to seize a regency, I doubt he would be putting this before all of us,” Captain Dunois points out.
"Enough,” Chancellor Crunard says, and they all quiet down. “This is good news for our duchess and our country, let us not forget that. How much aid will Nemours bring?”
“Three thousand men-at-arms and fifteen hundred pikemen.”
There is a long, painful silence. “Surely you jest,” Marshal Rieux says at last.
“That is not nearly as many as d’Albret has offered,” Madame Dinan points out.
“Madame.” There is a faint tremble in Anne’s voice. “As I have said more times than I can count, I will not wed him. His is more than fifty years old and a grandfather.” She does not say that he is ugly and coarse and makes her skin feel as if it wants to crawl off her bones, but I know that is so.
“But he brings with him an army compared to Nemours’s paltry offer!” Rieux sputters. “An army we will need to stand against the French.”
“Let us put it to a vote,” Crunard says. “All in favor?”
Anne’s voice is first to answer “aye,” but Duval’s “aye” is a close second.
“Nay,” says Rieux, followed by Madame Dinan’s softer “Nay.”
There is a pause, then Captain Dunois speaks. “I am sorry, Your Grace, but as captain of your army, I must point out that without d’Albret fighting by your side, we will need to find additional allies, and as yet we have had no luck in convincing others to our cause. But as a father, I cannot help but be glad of this newest development.”
“Chancellor?” says Anne. "What say you? How will you vote in this matter?”