"Lee Edgar - Plot 03 - Plot For A King" - читать интересную книгу автора (Edgar Lee)

and I’m afraid the nick-name stuck.’
Henriette held Minette in front of them. She was a pretty girl with an impish smile who smiled
broadly and held out her doll for Mary Beth to see. Mary Beth smiled.
Carrie was speechless. Mary Beth had actually smiled. Not only that, her adopted daughter held
out her arms to Minette, who proceeded to sit on her knee.
‘Well, Mary Beth,’ said Henriette. ‘You’ve found a friend there, haven’t you? .’
‘How are the other children?’ asked Carrie, sitting at her Queen’s feet in front of the fire. ‘Are
they here?’
‘No, Carrie, only Minette. Charles is still in The Hague waiting to hear from the Kirk. James is
about somewhere, he has just got back from staying with my Mary, in Amsterdam. He’s such a
wild boy.’
‘He must be growing up. How old is he now?’
‘He’s the same age as me,’ spoke up Mary Beth.
‘Sixteen?’ said Carrie incredulously. ‘And travelling about on his own? And what of the younger
children?’
‘I just have Minette here with me at the moment. Elizabeth and Henry are still with the Sidneys at
Penshurst. I feel so dreadfully lonely at times. Not only have I lost my husband whom I loved
dearly, I also seem to have lost most of my children. Mary is safe of course with Prince William,
but the others seem to be spread out all over Europe.’
‘Oh, my dear friend. What can I say?’ Carrie rested her head on Henriette’s knee and tried to
comfort her and it was a long time before any of them spoke. It was the gong for dinner which
broke the spell.
‘You haven’t come here to be sad, Carrie. You are to be married next week. It’s a time to be
happy. Come, let’s eat.’
Carrie and Henriette wiped away their tears and walked arm-in-arm into the dining room. Minette
followed, pulling a playfully reluctant Mary Beth along by the hand.


DINNER was superb. While they ate, Henriette brought them up-to-date with events. ‘I’m afraid
France is suffering from the Frondes at the moment.’
‘Is that some kind of a plague?’ asked Mary Beth.
‘No!’ laughed Henriette. ‘It means “catapult” and it was once used to describe people who threw
things at royalty as they passed by in their coaches. I’m afraid this particular one is even a bit
more serious than that.’
‘What is it all about?’ Carrie asked.
‘It is a bit complicated,’ the Queen started. ‘My brother, Louis the thirteenth, was king until he
died six years ago. His son, another Louis, was only five so couldn’t possibly reign at that age so
his Spanish mother became regent. However, to prevent Spain taking control, my brother would
not leave full control to her. He recognised just how crafty she could be so he left instructions, at
his death, that her powers be limited.’
‘How was that achieved?’
‘Anne was to act only on the advice of a council which consisted of herself, my brother Gaston,
Prince Louis of Condé and Anne’s new fancy-man, an italian by the name of Guilio Mazarini. They
were to be assisted by officials such as Séguier the Chancellor, Bouthillier the Superintendent
and Chavigny the Secretary of State.’
‘That sounds pretty restricting.’
‘Yes, but not for long. Anne’s a scheming witch and Mazarin, as he has now become known,
had similar interests. Gaston and Condé were permanently disagreeing over something or other
but one thing they were agreed upon was their hatred of Mazarin, the pompous little man. Queen
Anne realised this and pretended to agree with them and persuaded Parlement to grant her full