Read Daughter of Silk for Free Online Page B

permitted to try your hand at the gold tassels for the sleeves.”
    Grandmère’s approval was a balm to Rachelle’s tired knees, and well worth having crawled about Marguerite all the morning long. Rachelle’s
    slow smile broke into a laugh, and she planted a kiss on Grandmère’s cheek. “ Merci , Grandmère.” But she thought: Ah, making the tassels from bright gold thread will take all my concentration. Could she pass another of Grandmère’s inspections? Even so, she found herself deliri- ously pleased to have passed this one test of the hem. And, mais certaine- ment it was an honor to have been chosen by Grandmère to undertake the tassel making. I am now on my way to becoming a couturière.
    There was, however, another of her desires that was least discussed. That dream was to design the gowns, to become le dernier cri in fash- ion, and to open a dress shop appealing to the haute monde of London offering ready-sewn gowns carrying the family label of the Dushane- Macquinet Chateau de Silk in Lyon. Such a dream must wait, loitering in the misty future.
    Rachelle went off to her private closet to freshen herself before tea. She found her mind wandering again to Marquis Fabien de Vendôme. She had written to her eldest sister Madeleine, in Paris, who was married to Sebastien Dangeau, inquiring about Marquis Fabien. Since Sebastien was his oncle by marriage, Madeleine was well acquainted with Monsieur Fabien. What interesting morsels would Madeleine pass to her?

    Chapter Three ‌

    W

    “When the house of Guise is plotting, be assured it will mean trouble and woe for all those of the religion,” Rachelle’s père often said. She frowned as she readied herself for tea. Was the duc plotting?
    She was in her private closet with gold satin bed cushions and light blue draperies. Removing her soiled cotton work dress, she put it aside to be cleaned and poured cool water from the urn into a large white bowl with painted pink rosebuds sitting on her vanity stand. She washed her- self, her mind finding no rest over the morning’s happenings. She used fragrant powder to dry and used her pearl-handled hairbrush on her wealth of long, titian hair.
    The Queen Mother had left le Duc de Guise behind at Paris when she gave orders to travel here to Chambord. Rachelle believed Catherine had sought to rid herself of Guise’s influence upon the boy-king Francis and had not expected Guise’s arrival this morning. Yet he arrived boldly with his brother, the cardinal, bringing the masked figure. Why?
    She chose her new mint green silk and cream lace dress to wear and arranged her hair in a fashionable new style which Louise de Fontaine had shown her. A knock at the front chamber door drew her attention. It was followed a moment later by Idelette’s voice calling for Grandmère.
    Rachelle strained to hear the hushed voices in the front chamber while she quickly finished with her hair. Perhaps it was Comte Sebastien coming to inform them of the messire in the mask. Sebastien, highly positioned in the Queen Mother’s council, would know much of what was happening at Chambord and elsewhere.
    Rachelle was adept at discerning people’s moods by voice inflection and when, a few moments later, Grandmère’s became taut, Rachelle set her comb down on top of the blue and gold marble vanity table and went to the closet doorway. She peered into the main chamber.
    Rachelle expected to see Sebastien or another visitor and was sur- prised when the only two people standing in the middle of the chamber were Grandmère and Idelette. Rachelle entered and glanced about.
    “Did I not hear someone at the door?”
    Grandmère and Idelette turned to look at her. Rachelle felt her ten- sions rise. How pale Grandmère had become. Her black moiré dress emphasized this. Idelette’s lean face with its noble bone structure looked as though she had applied two circles of pink rouge.
    “What is wrong?” Rachelle asked.
    Grandmère lifted the fine silver