Free The Eloquence of Blood by Judith Rock

Mynette house. “Because now the Mynette money will come to us?”
    â€œYes. And even more because smoldering hostility to the Society is never very far below the surface in Paris. Parisians never forget anything, and all they need is a small spark to light the past into flame.”
    â€œAnd Martine Mynette’s death is more than a small spark,” Charles said flatly.
    Le Picart nodded wearily. “Again yes. And why? Because no one here will ever forget our poor Jean Châtel and his attack on King Henry.” Nearly a hundred years ago, a former Jesuit student named Jean Châtel, a deranged and rabidly fanatical Catholic, had tried to kill King Henry IV, a Huguenot who had converted to Catholicism in order to claim the throne. Châtel had been executed and his family house razed. One of his Jesuit teachers had been hanged and burned at the stake. The Society of Jesus had been banished from the realm for years.
    â€œFeeling against us has grown again.” Anger flashed in the rector’s eyes. “Largely because our enemies fan the political flames, twisting all the facts and accusing us of being only the pope’s men and not the king’s.”
    â€œWe are far from innocent of misdeeds,” Charles said soberly, thinking of the Jesuit role in the Huguenots’ plight. “But our first loyalty is to the pope and the church. Isn’t it?”
    â€œYes. But we are also loyal to the king.” Le Picart picked up a quill from the tray at his elbow and smoothed the feather barbs as though quieting himself. “Why is it that human beings so rarely see that two things can be true at once?” He pointed the quill’s nib at Charles. “The world is changing. The pope’s power shrinks as the power of kings and states grows. And so those who want us gone—especially the Gallicans in France’s Parlements , who want no foreign influence in France—whisper that we are plotting to regain power for His Holiness. What the hypocrites really want is our power and property for themselves. So they say we are not Gallican enough, not French enough, for these enlightened times. And if, on top of that, people begin whispering that we killed Mademoiselle Mynette, or had her killed, to get her money, all these angers and hatreds will flare into a conflagration.” He threw the pen down. “And before it ends, people will no doubt believe that we also stole the girl’s donation entre vifs , and probably poisoned her mother into the bargain. Dear Blessed Virgin, I wish with all my heart the girl had not been killed! For her sake, God knows, but also for ours.”
    â€œWhat are we going to do? If I may ask, mon père .”
    â€œWhat I should do is tell you to go about your lowly scholastic business.” The rector shook his head, almost angrily. “But you proved last summer that you have some skill in picking apart this sort of coil. So. Let us see if you can put your personal feelings about this girl aside and act not for yourself, but for the Society. Will you do that?”
    â€œWith all my heart, mon père !” Seeing Le Picart’s skeptical expression, Charles added hastily, “I mean—that is—to the best of my ability, I will. God helping me.”
    â€œGood. You have worked a little with Lieutenant-Général La Reynie, and he respects you. I want you to watch the police investigation during these next few days and keep me informed.” Le Picart’s eyes narrowed, and there was unmistakable warning in his gaze. “As I did last summer, I give you permission to go and come as you will, unaccompanied. But you will not take advantage of that or neglect your college responsibilities.”
    â€œSo I will continue to assist in Père Pallu’s morning rhetoric class as well as work with Père Jouvancy on the February performance?”
    The rector considered for a moment. “If this task I am