Free Mary Queen of Scotland & the Isles by Margaret George Page B

assured Mary, la Reinette d'Ecosse, of a proper welcome in the person of Diane de Poitiers, the King's mistress. Indeed, when Mary first beheld her coming into the saUe, she assumed she was looking at the Queen, so beautiful was the Moon Mistress. Her hair was silver, her skin pale, and her satins were a shimmery white and black. She seemed to glide across the floor, like a faerie creature, and Francois and Elisabeth greeted her as warmly as if she were their own mother. Mary immediately gave the proper, prescribed respect to the woman as Queen, only to have her smile and say, "No, no .. ." and then a string of the unintelligible French followed.
     
    Patrick Scott, a member of the company of Scottish archers at court, hastily came to Mary and bowed. "May I offer my services as a translator, Your Highness? The Duchesse de Valentinois, Madame de Poitiers, thanks you for your kind greetings, and wishes you to know that, as the honoured friend of the King, and in his name, she welcomes you to France. The King hopes you will find all happiness here, as the wife of his son, and among his people as their future queen. He longs to see you, and will be coming soon from Italy, where he is campaigning."
     
    At this delightful game where one person spoke for another, Mary giggled. Then Francois did, also, for it was the first time he had ever heard the Scots language. The rest of the parties on both sides joined in the laughter.
     
    The Duchesse gestured, and palace servants took their stations and stood by to show the Scottish guests to their quarters. She spoke, in her pretty voice, and then Patrick Scott explained.
     
    "Queen Mary, you are to share a room with the Princesse Elisabeth. It is the King's wish that you should live like sisters. I myself have chosen the furnishings, and I hope they are to your liking. Shall you come and see them now? Perhaps you wish to rest after your journey?"
     
    Used to the debilitation and lassitude of Francois, the Duchesse was surprised when Mary exclaimed. "Oh, no, I am not tired!" and almost jumped up and down. But then she added politely, "But I should very much like to see the furnishings which you have chosen for me, Madame."
     
    The Duchesse then led them back, through a long, vaulted gallery and up the main staircase, until at last they reached a suite of apartments above the second storey that overlooked the long slope down to the Seine, which shone like a little ribbon in the afternoon sun. It seemed to Mary that she had never been in such a huge building; the rooms went on and on, an endless series of doors and entrances disappearing behind the rustling gown of the Duchesse, which scattered light like the surface of a liquid, and quivered at each movement.
     
    She showed them into a large, sunny room that was panelled in a tawny wood.
     
    "Here it is, Your Highness. Your quarters. The royal nursery."
     
    The little beds, one on each side of the room, their frames carved with birds, leaves, and flowers, were bright with blue and gold hangings. There were child-sized tables and chairs; mirrors that hung at their eye level; wool rugs that made the floor as soft as moss. And in one corner, on a stand, was a wooden model chateau it opened up on hinges to reveal miniature rooms and furniture inside. Mary rushed over to it and peeked in its tiny windows. Inside was a magical world, like a dream.
     
    "Oh, Madame," she said. She could not think of any words to express her wonder.
     
    "It is yours to play with, and furnish, as you will. Look here are the dolls that live in it." Diane pointed to a group of figures in the model courtyard. To Mary's amazement, she recognized herself there. She picked up the doll, staring at it.
     
    It had real hair, exactly her colour. It wore a hawking costume in green velvet, exactly like her own. And to the doll's wrist was attached a faux hawk, made with real feathers, identical in shade to the one she owned.
     
    "Is it like Ruffles?" The Duchesse was