The Lady and the Unicorn. Tracy Chevalier

with me. I’m sure you don’t want him to be angry with me?’

      At this thought Michel d’Orléans stepped back, crestfallen. When he had apologized several times and gone on his way, Béatrice and I began to giggle. We hadn’t laughed like that in some time, and I was reminded of how she and I used to laugh all the time when we were both younger. I would miss her when she became Claude’s lady. She would go to her and remain, unless Claude allowed her to marry and leave service.

      The river was busy with boats moving up and down it. Men were unloading sacks of flour on the opposite bank, destined for the Louvre’s many kitchens. We watched them for a time. I have always liked to look at the Seine – it holds out the promise of escape.

      ‘I have something to tell you about Claude,’ Béatrice said then. ‘She’s been very foolish.’

      I sighed. I didn’t want to know, but I was her mother and was meant to. ‘What did she do?’

      ‘Do you remember that artist – Nicolas des Innocents – who is designing the tapestries for the Grande Salle?’

      I kept my eyes on a little patch of sunlight on the water. ‘I remember him.’

      ‘While you were away she was with him, alone, under a table!’

      ‘Under a table? Where?’

      She hesitated, her big eyes fearful. Béatrice dresses well, as do all of my ladies. But even fine silk woven with gilt thread and dotted with jewels can’t make her face anything but plain. Her eyes may be lively, but she has hollow cheeks, a snub nose, and skin that goes red at the slightest upset. She was red now.

      ‘In her chamber?’ I suggested.

      ‘No.’

      ‘In the Grande Salle?’

      ‘No.’ My suggestions were annoying her, even as her hesitation annoyed me. I turned and looked at the river again, stifling my desire to shout at her. It’s always better to be patient with Béatrice.

      Two men were fishing in a boat not far from us. Their lines were slack but they didn’t seem bothered – they were chatting and laughing about something. They hadn’t seen us and I was glad, for they would have bowed and moved away if they had known we were there. There is something cheering about seeing an ordinary man happy.

      ‘It was in your husband’s chamber,’ Béatrice whispered, even though there was no one to hear but me.

      ‘Sainte Vierge!’ I crossed myself. ‘How long was she alone with him?’

      ‘I don’t know. Just a few minutes, I think. But they were—’ Béatrice stopped. I really did want to shake her.

      ‘They were?’

      ‘Not quite—’

      ‘Where in Heaven’s name were you? You were meant to be keeping an eye on her!’ I had left Béatrice behind with Claude to keep her out of such mischief.

      ‘I was! She gave me the slip, the silly thing. She asked me to fetch her—’ Béatrice rattled her rosary ‘—oh, it doesn’t matter. But she didn’t lose her maidenhead, Madame.’

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Yes. He was not – not yet undressed.’

      ‘But she was?’

      ‘Only partly.’

      As angry as I was, part of me wanted to laugh at Claude’s brazenness. If Jean had caught them – I couldn’t bear to think of it. ‘What did you do?’

      ‘I sent him running! I did.’

      She hadn’t – I could see it in her face. Nicolas des Innocents had probably laughed at Béatrice and taken his time leaving.

      ‘What are you going to do, Madame?’ Béatrice said.

      ‘What did you do when he left? What did you say to Claude?’

      ‘I told her you would be sure to speak to her about it.’

      ‘Did she beg you not to tell me?’

      Béatrice frowned. ‘No. She laughed in my face and ran off.’

      I gritted my teeth. Claude knows only too well how valuable her maidenhead is to the Le Vistes – she must be intact for a worthy man to marry her. Her husband will inherit the Le Viste wealth one day, if not the name. The house on the rue du Four, the Château d’Arcy, the furniture, the jewels, even the tapestries Jean is having made – all will go to Claude’s husband. Jean will have chosen him carefully, and the husband in turn will expect Claude to be pious, respectful, admired, and a virgin, of course. If her father had caught her – I shivered.