I understood Charles’s grief so much and because for once I could see through someone else’s eyes, I could console him, because his was the greater pain. Steenie had gone for ever but I could still write to Mamie and I hoped to see her one day.
He talked to me a great deal about Steenie and I had to control my impulses to say something derogatory about him, and then after a while I saw how comforting it was for him to talk about this beloved friend whose faults he could not and never would see.
Life for him had lost its savor and it seemed that I was the one who could make up for that. I took a great pleasure in this and he could hardly bear to be away from me. I felt tender toward him. I sensed a certain weakness in him and instead of being critical of it, it endeared him to me.
I treated him as though he were my child instead of my husband and he was grateful for that. Charles was not a man who enjoyed exerting his will. He was serious in his intentions to do right; he wanted to be a good ruler and a good husband. He had not enjoyed sending away my attendants but he had done so because he had thought it was the best for us all.
I began to understand so much and each day I looked forward to our talks, and at night, in the privacy of our bedchamber, I think we truly became lovers.
I began to wonder whether there had been two reasons why we had had such a stormy beginning to our married life. One was undoubtedly Buckingham and the other…could it really have been my attendants? Sancy had led me into some difficult situations culminating in the visit to Tyburn; my ladies had always reminded me that I was a French-woman among the English, and a Catholic in an alien land.
Of course Mamie had done her best to help me, but she was apart from the rest.
A few weeks passed while Charles mourned Buckingham deeply, but I knew his sorrow was passing because he was finding great pleasure and the deepest satisfaction in the new relationship which was springing up between us.
Then I discovered that I was with child.
I was very excited at the prospect of having a baby, and Charles was delighted.
“It must be a boy,” I said. Then he smiled gently at me and told me I must not be disappointed if our first child was a girl. We would get boys in due course, he was sure.
I talked about the child practically all the time with my women. One of them said she was sure it would be a boy by the way I was carrying it.
“How I should like to know for sure,” I said.
One of them whispered to me: “Why not consult Eleanor Davys.”
It was the first time I had heard the woman’s name and I had no idea then that she would be the cause of frictions between Charles and me.
I talked over the matter with those three who had become my special friends among the English ladies of the bedchamber: Susan Feilding, Countess of Denbigh; Katherine, Buckingham’s widow; and my favorite of the three, Lucy Hay, Countess of Carlisle. Poor Katherine was very sad at this time; she could not get over the shock of losing her husband. It was strange to me that anyone could love that man, yet she had apparently done so—as had my own husband. She told me how she would never forget coming down the stairs and seeing him lying there in the hall with his blood spattering the walls. I could quite understand why she had nightmares nowadays. We did our best to cheer her and somehow that brought us all closer together.
“Why not call in Eleanor Davys?” said Susan. I think she looked upon it as a diversion for me as well as for Katherine.
Lucy said that Eleanor Davys had foretold her first husband’s death. “She said he would die in three days,” she added, “and he did.”
We were all awestruck.
“She would know then whether I was carrying a boy or a girl,” I said.
“Why not wait and see,” suggested Katherine. “Wouldn’t it be nice to surprise yourself?”
“I should like to know now,” I said. “Moreover I should like to put this wise woman to the test.”
“Let us bring her in then,” suggested Lucy.
“Who is she?” asked Katherine.
“She is the wife of Sir John Davys, the King’s Attorney General,” Susan told us.
“Her second husband,” I added, “since she foretold the death of her first husband. I wonder if she has told Sir John how long he has to live.”
We were all laughing together and even Katherine managed to raise a smile.
However it was arranged that Lady Davys should be brought to me and she was only too delighted to come. In the meantime I had found out certain facts about her. She was the daughter of the Earl of Castle-haven and was quite renowned for her prophecies. If the letters of her name—Eleanor Davys—were arranged differently and her first name spelt with two lls as it often was and her surname Davie instead of Davys (which one could say was used occasionally) the result would be “Reveal O Daniel.” This seemed very significant.
We all became very excited thinking of the revelations to come and when the lady was presented I was greatly impressed by her. She was a big woman, dark-haired with enormous luminous eyes—just the sort, I said to Lucy afterward, which a seer ought to have.
She was not in the least overawed by me. I supposed as a prophetess a queen did not seem so very important in her eyes.
She told us that she had a mission; she was in touch with powers. She could not explain them; she merely knew that she had been selected by some great force to be able to look at that which was not revealed to ordinary people.
I made her sit down and I told her that I had heard of her miraculous powers and there was a question I wanted to ask her. She folded her arms and looked at me steadily while I asked about the child I was to bear. There was a breathless silence round the table while we all waited for her words. She did not hurry. She sat back for a while and closed her eyes. When she opened them she gazed steadily at me and said: “You will have a son.”
There was a gasp of delight round the table.
“And,” I cried, “shall I be happy?”
She said, speaking very slowly: “You will be happy for a while.”
“Only for a while? How long?”
“For sixteen years,” she replied.
“And then what will happen?”
She closed her eyes and at that moment the door opened and the King came in.
Although I was so much fonder of him now I was irritated by the interruption, particularly as he assumed one of his most serious looks. I thought then what fun it would have been if he had joined us and listened with us and giggled and enjoyed the excitement of prophecy. But that was not Charles’s way.
He stood by the table and my ladies all rose and curtsied.
He was looking straight at our soothsayer and he said almost accusingly: “You are Lady Davys.”
“That is so, Your Majesty,” she answered with pride, and I must admit showing very little deference to the King.
“You are the lady who foretold her husband’s death.”
“Yes, Sire. I did that. I have the powers….”
“I can scarcely believe that he welcomed the news,” said Charles coldly. “Indeed it might well have done much to hasten his end.” He turned to me and offered me his arm.
There was nothing I could do but rise and leave with him, though I was fuming with irritation at having that interesting session cut short.
When we were outside the door he said: “I do not wish you to consult that woman.”
“Why not?” I cried. “She is clever. She told me that I would have a son and be happy.”
He was a little uplifted but persisted in his condemnation of her.
“She probably hastened her husband’s death.”
“How could she? He did not die of poison. He just died…as she said he would.”
“It is dabbling in the black arts.”
I was afraid that he was going to forbid me to see her and I knew that if he did my temper would flare up and I should disobey him. It was a pity. We had been getting on so happily until now.