“I never liked Edward Hyde,” I said. “I cannot understand why your brother thinks so highly of him.”
“Because he is clever, Mam,” retorted Mary. “Charles needs men like Edward Hyde about him. All rulers should have such men to rely on.”
“I never liked him,” I said firmly. “You know this and yet you bring his daughter in your train.”
“I quite like the girl.”
“But you know I would rather not see any of the Hyde family.”
“I do not feel so and being mistress in my own household I choose those I like.”
I was hurt. I could not understand why my children were so inconsiderate toward me.
I was quite amused, however, when the Queen made it known that she thought it inappropriate for widows to dance, which meant that Mary had to sit beside the Queen and me to watch. She was not really very old and she did seem to forget that she was a widow. I wondered whether she would marry again and whether I should be looking round for a suitable husband for her. It would not surprise me if she told me that was no affair of mine.
One of the balls given for Mary was that of the Duc d’Anjou. The Duc was there looking what I can only describe as “pretty.” He had such a flair for clothes and the colors he chose were quite exquisite. His jewelry was lovely too. The Queen confided in me that young Philippe was not in the least like his brother. Louis was all for manly sports but Philippe liked better to discuss clothes, to design them and choose materials; and he had said that he liked women’s clothes better than men’s and oddly enough sometimes dressed in them. He was a graceful dancer and when he partnered Henriette they looked beautiful dancing together. I think they were acknowledged to be the best dancers in the Court and this made quite a bond between them. But what pleased me most about the ball was that the King was there, and this time, without hesitation, he chose Henriette to open it with him. It showed my little girl was growing up and could no longer be regarded as a child.
I prayed fervently that Charles would regain his throne and that Louis and Henriette would marry. Anne had hinted to me that she was very fond of Henriette and that she would welcome her as a daughter-in-law if it were possible for the pair of them to marry, of course.
But Louis was the King of France and Henriette…? Well she was the daughter of a king who had lost his throne with his head, and the sister of a king who had not yet regained that throne and showed little sign of doing so.
“Oh Lord,” I prayed. “Give Charles his throne…soon, and Henriette, Louis.”
All the festivities at that time were in honor of Mary. The King commanded that a ballet should be performed for her pleasure; and of course Henriette danced in it. The Queen gave a banquet for Mary, and the Grande Mademoiselle, not to be outdone although still in exile from the Court, invited her to the Château of Chilly where she put on a very grand entertainment. Mary and Mademoiselle got on remarkably well. I couldn’t help feeling that Mary was a little too talkative and that Mademoiselle led her on, and I was sure she was going to repeat everything Mary said so I hoped my daughter would not be too indiscreet. When I saw the lavish manner in which Mademoiselle entertained I thought again what a suitable wife she would make for Charles, and I deeply regretted that all that money which was being wasted on lavish clothes, jewels, food, wines and spectacle could not be used to raise an army for Charles.
I did get a chance to talk to her. I thought she was looking older and she had never been a beauty. No one would have thought of marrying her if it were not for her fortune; and after so many proposed marriages which had come to nothing she must be wondering whether she was going to get married at all.
I said: “You must be wondering how Charles is faring.”
“Oh? Must I?”
She was insolent. Foolish woman! If she was not careful she would remain a spinster all her days.
“He is in love with you, you know,” I said. “He does not think of any other woman.”
“I was under the impression that he thought a good deal about a number of them.”
“I am talking of marriage.”
“Oh, dear little aunt, I cannot believe it is I who am the cause of his single state rather than the fact that he is scarcely in a position to keep himself let alone a wife.”
“He has been so upset. When he was here he and I quarreled often. It is because he is unhappy that he is so quarrelsome. If he had a wife, I am sure we should be on far better terms.”
“Dear Majesty,” she said lightly, “if he cannot live happily with you, why should he do so with someone else?”
I could have slapped her simpering face. She was mocking me. She knew I only wanted her money for Charles. Indeed what else could I want from her?
She always contrived to spoil any occasion for me. Even the sight of my little Henriette stepping a measure with a handsome nobleman with such grace could not restore my good humor.
There was something else which disturbed me very deeply although I did not realize then how very significant it would prove to be. This was the growing attitude of my son James toward Anne Hyde. He was a few years older than she was and like his brother Charles had always had an eye for women. It was a trait in them which they did not get from their father or from me. But I often wonder whether it actually came through me as it would not surprise me in the least if Charles at any rate should become such another as my father had been as far as women were concerned.
I had seen James follow Anne Hyde surreptitiously. Once I went after them and my suspicions were confirmed. My son was embracing the young woman and she was making a great show of reluctance which was an absolute indication of her willingness.
At that time my irritation was simply because I disliked the Hydes. Then it occurred to me that although it was not disastrous for my sons to have passing love affairs with women like Lucy Walter, who could be cast aside when the matter had run itself out, it was not quite the same thing with the daughter of a man in Edward Hyde’s position.
I decided to tackle James.
I said: “It has come to my ears that you are indulging in an amour with Anne Hyde.”
“You mean it has come to your eyes, Mam,” retorted James. “I was aware of you…spying on us.”
I was amazed at the insolence of my children. First Henry, then Mary, now James. At least Charles was always respectful although he ignored my advice—and Charles was the King and might have been forgiven a little assertiveness.
“I consider it my duty….”
He dared to interrupt. “Oh, Mam, a little amusement is not a matter of state.”
“I would rather you gave up this woman.”
“I would rather not,” he replied.
“James!”
“Yes, Mam.”
“You are my son.”
“Dear Mam, I know that well, but I am of age, you know. I am no longer a child and I cannot brook interference with my personal affairs.”
There were dangerous lights in his eyes. He had a temper to match mine and was the easiest of my children to quarrel with. Out of sympathy with Mary as I was, I did not want trouble with James.
With great restraint I sighed and said: “I beg of you to take care. This is the daughter of Edward Hyde of whom your brother seems to think so highly. She is not a woman like that Lucy Walter who was at the center of that disgraceful affair with your brother, which I am sure did him a great deal of harm and no doubt held him back from his throne.”
“That’s ridiculous,” cried James. “Charles had a very pleasant time with Lucy. She’s a nice creature and you know how Charles dotes on young James…when he sees him.”
“I cannot bear to hear such talk. I wish you were like your father…both of you.”