By Linda Lee Chaikin
Pursuing the relatives identify because the most interesting silk manufacturer in Lyon, the younger Huguenot Rachelle Dushane-Macquinet is delighted to accompany her recognized couturier Grandmere to Paris, there to create a silk trousseau for the Royal Princess Marguerite Valois. The court docket is significant; its regent, Catherine de Medici, deceptively captivating ... and the conditions, darker than Rachelle may be able to think. At a time in heritage while the tortures of the Bastille and the fiery stake are a nearly informal end result in France, a virus of recrimination is relocating speedy and livid opposed to the Huguenots---and because the Queen Mother's political intrigues weave an internet of deception round her, Rachelle reveals herself in coming near near threat. wish rests in caution the good-looking Marquis Fabien de Vendome of the depraved plot opposed to his kinfolk. yet to take action, Rachelle needs to persist with a dangerous path.
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Pursuing the relations identify because the best silk manufacturer in Lyon, the younger Huguenot Rachelle Dushane-Macquinet is overjoyed to accompany her recognized couturier Grandmere to Paris, there to create a silk trousseau for the Royal Princess Marguerite Valois. The courtroom is extraordinary; its regent, Catherine de Medici, deceptively captivating .
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Additional resources for Daughter of Silk (The Silk House #1)
Idelette was two years ahead in the steps to becoming a couturière, and Rachelle had not yet progressed so far. Idelette turned her head toward Rachelle. ” “Non. ” Idelette set aside her work and stood up from the chair and table, with hand at her lower back. “I shall grow old very quickly, I vow it. ” Rachelle proudly displayed the burgundy gown on the mannequin and arranged each fold with her fingers, smoothing them. Idelette nodded approvingly. “You did well, ma petite. Oh, I shall never weary of gazing at those colors.
He admitted his suspicion, but he would not speak plainly. He does not appear to take the matter seriously, I assure you. ” Idelette said. ” Rachelle said. Grandmère clasped her hands as though in anxious prayer. “We cannot risk sending a message to Duchesse Xenia. ” “Prince Condé is in Moulins at the Bourbon palais,” Rachelle said. “Or even as far north as Chatillon with Admiral Coligny. ” “Still, we must do something. Who could go to Moulins without detection? ” Idelette looked from one to the other.
Maître Avenelle. A trusted messire among the Huguenots in Paris. His arrival is a harbinger of sinister treachery. ” Idelette whispered. La duchesse widened her eyes. “They brought him to Catherine de Medici for some dark reason, bien sûr! ” She shook her head. “Ah, that is what we do not know, mignon Idelette. ” She looked evenly at each one of them in turn. “Yes. ” Rachelle struggled to keep her own fears from surging forward like a pack of foxes. Grandmère sat with her back erect, her frail hands still clasped together.