Page 115 of A Column of Fire
Mother Ladoix began to recover from her shock and looked at Pierre with a touch of scepticism. ‘And the father?’
‘Not me, I assure you, in case that was what you were thinking,’ he said haughtily.
She looked embarrassed. ‘Certainly not.’
‘However, he is a very young nobleman. I am the family’s physician. Naturally, I cannot reveal their name.’
‘I understand.’
The baby began to cry. Almost automatically, Mother Ladoix took the bundle from Pierre and rocked the baby. ‘He’s hungry,’ she said.
‘No doubt,’ said Pierre.
‘This blanket is very soft. It must have been costly.’
It was a hint. Pierre took out his purse. He had not prepared for this contingency, but fortunately he had money. He counted out ten gold ecus, worth twenty-five livres, enough to feed a baby for years. ‘The family asked me to offer you ten ecus, and to say they would guarantee the same amount every year that the child is here.’
Mother Ladoix hesitated. Pierre guessed that she did not know how much of his story to believe. But caring for unwanted children was her mission in life. And ten ecus was a lot of money. She took the coins. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘We will take good care of this little boy.’
‘I will pray for him and for you.’
‘And I look forward to seeing you one year from today.’
For a moment Pierre was thrown. Then he realized she expected him to return with another ten ecus, as promised. It would never happen. ‘I will be here,’ he lied. ‘One year from today.’
He opened the door and held it for the nun. She left the room and silently disappeared into the nunnery.
Pierre went out with a light heart and walked away rapidly. He was exultant. He had got rid of the bastard. There would be a thunderstorm when he got home, but that was all right. There was no longer anything to tie him to the repellent Odette. Perhaps he could get rid of her, too.
To postpone the confrontation, he went into a tavern and ordered a celebratory cup of sherry. As he sat alone, sipping the strong, tawny wine, he turned his mind to his work.
It was more difficult now than when he had started. King Francis II had stepped up trials of Protestants, perhaps under the guidance of his Scottish wife, Mary Stuart, but more likely influenced by her Guise uncles. The heightened persecution had made the Protestants more cautious.
Several of Pierre’s spies were Protestants who had been arrested and threatened with torture unless they turned traitor. But the heretics were getting wise to this, and no longer automatically trusted their co-religionists. Nowadays they often knew each other only by first names, not revealing their surnames or addresses. It was like a game in which the Church’s moves were always countered by the heretics. However, Charles was patient, and Pierre was relentless; and it was a game that ended in death.
He finished his wine and walked the rest of the way home.
When he got there, he was shocked to find Cardinal Charles sitting in his living room, in a red silk doublet, waiting for him.
The midwife stood behind the cardinal with her arms folded and her chin raised defiantly.
Without preamble, Charles said: ‘What have you done with the baby?’
Pierre got over his shock rapidly and thought hard. Odette had acted faster than he had anticipated. He had underestimated the resourcefulness of a desperate woman. She must have recovered from childbirth sufficiently to send a message to the cardinal, probably by Nath, pleading for help. Nath had been lucky to find Charles at home and willing to come immediately. The upshot was that Pierre was in trouble. ‘Somewhere safe,’ he said in answer to the cardinal’s question.
‘If you’ve killed a Guise child, by God you’ll die for it, no matter how good you are at catching blasphemers.’
‘The baby is alive and well.’
‘Where?’
There was no point in resistance. Pierre gave in. ‘At the Convent of the Holy Family.’
The midwife looked triumphant. Pierre felt humiliated. He now regretted that slap in the face.
Charles said: ‘Go back and get him.’
Pierre hesitated. He could hardly bring himself to return, but he could not defy the cardinal without ruining everything.
