“To those who do her commands!”
“Charles, you have grown cynical.”
“Realistic, my dear. The longer I live, and the farther I wander, the greater grows my respect for the truth. Ask poor Henry to tell you of our mother’s tender love!”
“Poor little Henry! His was a sad experience.”
“And entirely our mother’s doing.”
“You must not dislike her because she is a Catholic.”
“It is not her religion that I hate. It is her unkindness to our brother. The boy was heartbroken when Ormonde brought him to me.”
“Well, Charles, you have made up to him for what he suffered at our mother’s hands. He may have been disappointed in her, but he is not so in his brother. He adores his King; and is it not pathetic to see how he tries to model himself on you?”
“It is more than pathetic—it is tragic. And so bad for his morals.”
“You might try to prevent that by leading a more respectable life yourself, brother.”
“I cannot attempt the impossible—even for young Henry.”
Mary laughed. “Now you are looking stern,” she said. “Now you are preparing to pass on Master Hyde’s orders to me. You are going to forbid me to go to Paris.”
“Mary, who am I to forbid you!”
“You are the King and the head of our house.”
“You are the Princess of Orange, mother of the Orange heir. I am your out-at-elbows brother.”
“Oh Charles, dearest Charles, you are not a very good advocate for your cause. You are a profligate, they say, and I know that to be true; you are careless; you are idle; but I love you.”
“If the reward of profligacy is love, then mayhap I am not such a fool after all.”
“Are you forbidding me to go to Paris?”
“I forbid nothing.”
“But you ask me not to go?”
“’Twill offend the Spaniards.”
“Listen to me, Charles. You and our mother have quarreled over Henry. It is a bad thing in any family to quarrel—in ours it might well be disastrous. I wish to right these matters. For years I have longed to see our mother again.”
Charles smiled. “Dear Mary,” he said. “You must please yourself. Go, if that is what you wish.”
“I am sure I am right. I do not believe the Spaniards will help you regain your kingdom. They’ll not fight for you. They are just temporarily friendly with you because, for the moment, the French are not.”
“I think you have the truth there.”
“We must not have these rifts between members of our family. Our mother must love you again. She must love Henry. Oh, Charles, there are so few of us left now. Smile on my journey. I could not enjoy it if you did not.”
“Then if my smile is necessary to your pleasure, you must have it, dear sister. Take a kiss to my dear Minette.”
Mary embraced him warmly.
“Yes, Charles,” she said. “Do you know you’re my favorite brother? I would almost go further and, but for a small person who now resides in Holland, I would say you are my favorite man.”
“I really begin to think,” said the king, “that I am not such a fool as I believed myself to be.”
“You’re the wisest fool on earth. I shall take your Chancellor’s daughter with me as a maid of honor. She is a pleasant girl, Anne Hyde. And I wish her to make herself very agreeable to our mother whom I would like to see reconciled to the girl’s father. She declares Hyde advises you to act against her wishes, you know.”
“You make me wistful. I would that I could go with you on this journey to France.”
“What! Have you a fancy for the Chancellor’s daughter?”
“Anne Hyde! Assuredly not.”
“Then I am glad, because I think her father would have a high pride in her virtue.”
“I was not thinking of being with Anne Hyde,” said Charles. “I was thinking of the pleasure of seeing Minette again.”
Lucy was in bed nibbling sweetmeats. She could hear Ann Hill moving about whilst she cleaned the apartment. Lucy had coarsened slightly, but she was still beautiful. On the pillow beside her had rested, until a few hours ago, the fair head of one of the Court gentlemen. She did not know his name, but he had been a satisfactory lover.
Her clothes lay on the floor where she had flung them; Ann had not yet been in to tidy the room. Ann was angry with her mistress. Ann thought her mistress should not receive any gentlemen in her bed except the King.
But Lucy must have a lover; she might sigh for the King, but the King was not always at hand, and there were so many waiting to take his place.
Now she wondered whether the fair gentleman would visit her again this night. If he did not, another would.
Ann had come into the room and was clicking her tongue at the state of the apartment as she picked up the garments which lay about the floor.
“Don’t frown!” cried Lucy. “It makes you look uglier than usual.”
“If this is what beauty brings you to, I’m glad I’m ugly,” muttered Ann. “A new man last night! I’ve never seen him before.”
“He was wonderful!” murmured Lucy.
“What if …”
“What if the King had visited me? Oh no!” Lucy sighed and was momentarily sad. “He is pleasantly occupied elsewhere for the last week—and the next, I doubt not.”
“It’s wrong,” said Ann, shaking her head. “Quite wrong.”
“Is it? I never have time to think about it.”
“You think of little else!”
“It seems that I am thinking of last night’s pleasure until it is time to anticipate tonight’s.”
Ann said: “It’s depravity … and everybody here seems to … to wallow in it.”
“It is a pastime in which one cannot indulge alone.”
“For the children to see such things is not right.”
“They are too young to know.”
“Mary may be. Jemmy is not. He begins to wonder. He is nearly seven. It is time you gave up this way of living and, settled down to quiet, and thought of looking after the children.”
Lucy stared before her. She loved her children—both of them—but she adored Jemmy. He had such vitality, such charm, and he was such a handsome little boy. Moreover everybody who visited the house—and in particular the King—made much of him.
Settle down and be quiet! Look after Jemmy! As well ask a bird not to sing in the spring, a bee not to gather honey!
Ann went on: “There are rumors. There’ll be another move soon.”
“I dare swear we shall go to Breda.”
“If there is another attempt …”
“Attempt?”
“You think of nothing but who your next lover will be. Don’t you see they’re only waiting here. One day they’ll be gone … and then where will you be? They’ll all be leaving here to fight with the King, and you’ll be left with a few Germans to make love to you.”
“You’re in a bad mood today, Ann.”
“It’s all these rumors,” said Ann. “We shall be moving soon, I know. I wish we could go home.”
“Home?”
“To London. Fancy being in Paul’s Walk again!”
Lucy’s eyes were dreamy. “Yes,” she said. “Just fancy! Fancy going to Bartholomew and Southwark Fairs.”
“I’d like to walk by the river again,” said Ann wistfully. “No other place is the same, is it? They don’t look the same … don’t smell the same … All other places are dull. They weary a body … and make her long for home.”
“To walk down the gallery at the Royal Exchange again …” murmured Lucy.
Jemmy came running into the room. He wore a toy sword at his belt; it was a present from his father. “I’m a soldier!” he cried. “I’m for the King. Are you for the Parliament? Then you’re dead … dead … dead …”
He took out his sword and waved it at Ann, who skillfully eluded him.