‘You mean alliances. I am just a counter in the game, Theophanie.’

‘Oh, you’re more than that. You’re like your mother and your grandmother. You’re going to be one of those women who do the ruling. I’ve always seen that in you.’

‘It will be strange to be in a foreign country away from you all.’

Theophanie was saddened and put up her hand to knock away a tear with a degree of impatience. ‘It’s always the same with us nurses,’ she said. ‘We have our babies and then they are snatched away from us. Kings and Queens and noblemen lose their daughters when they become ready for marriage. It’s only the poor who can keep their children with them. You’ll have to promise me never to forget old Theophanie and what she taught you when you are Queen of England.’

Poor Theophanie, she felt the parting deeply. Margaret did too. It was the end of her girlhood. She was going to a new country and a husband. She wondered a great deal about Henry.

Her parents were to escort her to Nancy where the proxy ceremony would take place. The King of France would attend, for her marriage was of importance to France. She knew that. She would see her aunt Marie and Agnès again.

Her father talked to her about the marriage as he painted, for he was loth to leave the picture he was working on.

‘It never seems the same when one comes back to it,’ he said. ‘When people produce works of art they should live with them, stay with them night and day until they are completed.’

‘Dear Father,’ she replied, ‘I am sorry my marriage is taking you away from the work you love.’

‘I was joking,’ he said. ‘Of course I want to be at my daughter’s wedding. Do you realize what you are doing for France...for us all by this marriage?’

‘Yes,’ she answered.

‘You will be in a place of authority. You will be able to guide the King to act in favour of your country.’

‘Do you think a King of England would be guided to act against his own country in favour of France?’

‘Not really, of course, nor could we expect him to. What I mean is a little gentle persuasion eh, when some matter arises.’

‘I shall have to wait and see what matters arise.’

‘You will delight him I know. And he must want this marriage very much to consider giving up Maine and Anjou for it.’

A few days later her father was disturbed. Since her betrothal he had taken her into his confidence. It was as though he regarded her as already Queen of England and if she were going to work for the good of France she must be kept cognizant of affairs.

‘The Vaudémonts will attend the wedding and they say that it is high time that your sister Yolande and Ferri were married. Yolande is older than you and yet you are to be a bride. They want a double wedding.’

‘It will be wonderful to see Yolande again.’

‘Margaret, I always intended that this wedding should never take place. Yolande...my daughter...to marry my great enemy.’

‘But it was the terms of peace. Father. You agreed to this marriage.’

‘Because I was forced to.’

‘But it was for this reason that you were released.’

‘Yolande was only a child then. I was determined that the marriage should never take place. I am still determined. And now the Vaudémonts will be coming to your wedding and they are making plans for Ferri de Vaudémont to marry Yolande at the same time.’

Margaret was astounded. She was very uneasy when she saw the look of determination in her father’s face and she wondered whether he was planning some wild action to prevent the marriage of Yolande and Ferri de Vaudémont.

###

Margaret said a sad farewell to Theophanie, who was in tears knowing that it was highly improbable that they would ever meet again, and with her parents set out on the journey to Nancy.

The whole neighbourhood was en fête. This was going to be the grandest wedding they had seen for a long time. It was true the bridegroom would not be present and there would be a nobleman of high rank to stand in for him but the King and all the Court would be there, among them the famous beauty and counsellor of the King, Agnès Sorel, who, it was said, he loved more than his life.

There would be festivities which would last for days and already the traders in the neighbourhood had profited by all the work this had brought them.

Crowds of people were converging on the town of Nancy from all over France and the people even cheered the English delegation.

When Margaret appeared riding between her father and mother the people went wild with joy. ‘Long live the beautiful bride!’ they shouted; and Margaret was thrilled for the first time by the acclaim of the people. It was then that she realized the importance of the occasion. She was going into a new country as its Queen and silently she vowed that she would never forget her native land.

The King and the Queen were already in the castle. Margaret sank to her knees and was lifted up by the King and warmly kissed. Her aunt Marie glowed with affection too and there was Agnès standing beside the King, dazzling as ever with that rather unearthly beauty of hers.

They were making a very important occasion of it.

Then she was presented to the English embassy headed by Suffolk. He introduced her to his lady to whom she immediately took a great fancy. She liked Suffolk too. There was a kindliness about him and he had such a protective air.

The King told her that jousts and all sorts of entertainments were being planned to celebrate her nuptials.

‘Dear niece,’ he said, ‘this is going to be an occasion you will never forget.’

‘I suppose, Sire,’ said Margaret, ‘that few forget their wedding days.’

‘This is but a proxy marriage and there will be the official ceremony when you get to England. I want you to remember this as your last ceremonial occasion as a Princess of France.’

He placed his hand over hers and patted it. She sensed that he was very pleased with the wedding.

It was a great delight to see Yolande again.

At first the sisters did not recognize each other, which was natural since it must be twelve years since they had been together. They both remembered though vaguely the upheavals in their lives which young as they were had made a deep impression. There was that journey to France undertaken when Margaret was two and Yolande three to go with their mother to plead with the King. They remembered how shortly afterwards Yolande was taken away to go to live with the Vaudémont.

‘And now we are both to be married,’ said Yolande.

‘You too?’ asked Margaret.

‘Ferri is determined on it. He has said we have waited over-long. Every time it is suggested our father makes some excuse why it should not take place.’

‘You want to marry then, Yolande?’

‘But of course,’ said Yolande. ‘Ferri and I have grown up together. We have always been good friends. It is different for you, Margaret. You have never seen your bridegroom.’

‘The Marchioness of Suffolk tells me a great deal about him. She says he is handsome though gently so...if you know what that means. In fact, everything about him is gentle. He is kindly and hates being cruel to anyone even his enemies, and he is a great scholar and interested in poetry, painting and music’

‘That should suit you,’ said Yolande, ‘and if you are anything like our mother and grandmother—which I suspect you are— you will be able to tell him what he ought to do.’

‘The more I talk of him the less apprehensive I become. What of Ferri?’

‘Ferri is bold and romantic and I would not have him otherwise. I am fortunate not to be going to a man I do not know.’

‘But I feel I already know Henry through Alice.’

‘Who is Alice?’

‘She is the Marchioness. I call her Alice. She asked me to. She is a very pleasant woman. I have taken a fancy to her and I think she has to me.’