by Jean Plaidy
Those months stood out forever in Mary’s memory; they were the turning point in her life. Jemmy was dead … killed, on her father’s order.
“He was his uncle,” she said stonily to Anne Trelawny.
“Monmouth was a traitor, Your Highness.”
“I do not believe he meant to take the throne.”
“Your Highness was always one to believe the best of your friends. He called himself King Monmouth. He could not have been more explicit.”
“Others called him that.”
She could not be comforted. She shut herself in her apartments and thought of him—dancing, laughing—making love with numerous women. He was no saint. He was not a noble honorable man such as her husband was. But he was so beautiful, so charming, and she had never been so happy as when in his company—except of course on those occasions when William showed his approval of her.
If he had never come to The Hague, she thought, I should not be mourning him so bitterly now.
The entire Court was talking of what was called the Bloody Assizes which had followed Monmouth’s defeat at Sedgemoor. They spoke in shocked whispers of the terrible sentences which were passed on those who had rebelled against the new King of England. Death, slavery, whipping, imprisonment. It was a tale of horror.
And this, said Mary, is done in the name of my father.
Dr. Covell, who had succeeded Dr. Kenn as chaplain to the Princess of Orange was flattered to receive a call from Bevil Skelton the English Envoy at The Hague.
Skelton implied that he wished to speak to Covell alone and when he came into the chaplain’s apartment there was an air of secrecy about him which delighted Covell. Covell, an old man, who lacked the courage and personality of Hooper and Kenn, his two predecessors, guessed that some highly confidential matter was about to be communicated to him.
He was right.
“Dr. Covell,” began Skelton, “I know that I can rely on your discretion.”
“Absolutely, my dear sir. Absolutely.”
“That is well, because I am going to take you into my confidence regarding a very secret matter.”
“You may have the utmost trust in me.”
“I believe,” said Skelton, “that you deplore the way in which the Prince treats our Princess.”
“Scandalous, sir. Quite scandalous.”
“And you are a faithful servant of King James II, our lawful sovereign.”
“God save the King!”
“I must insist that you keep this absolutely to yourself.”
“I give my word as a priest.”
“Well, then, this Orange marriage is not satisfactory. Not only is it without fruit but the Princess is treated like a slave. His Majesty knows this; the Princess is his favorite daughter and he is deeply concerned. It is clear that she is unhappy. She must be unhappy. No wife could be otherwise, neglected as she is. The King wishes to have the marriage dissolved and it is my duty to find a way of doing it.”
Covell was too astonished to speak and Skelton went on: “Oh, I know you are thinking this is impossible. On the contrary it is not so. There is ample reason why this marriage should be dissolved.”
“You mean the Prince is incapable of getting a son?”
“I mean that he spends his nights with another woman.”
“I understand.”
“The Princess does not seem aware of this.”
“The Princess is not always easy to understand. At times she seems almost childlike; at others her control is astonishing and one feels that she is very wise indeed.”
“I believe that if she were made aware of what is going on behind her back her pride would be wounded. She is a proud woman. Remember she is a Princess. Our first step should be to make sure that she is aware that her husband has a mistress to whom he must be devoted considering she has occupied that position since she came into Holland.”
“Do you wish me to tell the Princess?”
“We must be subtle. Have a word with her women—those you feel will be most likely to put the case to her … as it should be put. I should not ask either of the Villiers sisters to betray the elder one.”
Covell nodded. Skelton was referring to Anne Bentinck and Katherine Villiers, who had married the Marquis de Puissars, and were both in Mary’s service.
“I will have a word with Anne Trelawny,” said Covell. “She loves her mistress dearly and I feel sure she hates the Prince almost as much as His Majesty does.”
“I see you have the right idea,” said Skelton. “Now … let us go into action without delay.”
Covell, who enjoyed intrigue and liked to think he was not too old to indulge in it, immediately sought out Anne Trelawny and as Mrs. Langford was with her, and he knew that lady to be as fiercely against the Prince of Orange as the other, he decided to take them both into his confidence.
He explained the nature of the plot and there was at once no doubt that he would have the assistance of these two.
“I have always said it was monstrous!” declared Mrs. Langford. “My Princess ignored for Squinting Betty!”
“What he sees in her, I can’t imagine,” added Anne. “When I think of my beautiful Lady Mary …”
“See if you can bring what is happening to her notice,” said Covell.
“It should not be difficult,” said Mrs. Langford.
“Sometimes,” added Anne, “I wonder whether she knows and pretends it is not so. That would be like her. I am sure she is too clever not to have discovered it. After all it’s been going on long enough.”
“I don’t know, Squint-eye is clever. Have you noticed since we have been in Holland and she’s been playing the whore how retiring she’s been. She’s never given the Princess any cause to complain about her. Whereas before …”
“Never mind,” said Anne, “the Princess is going to know now.”
Anne was dressing Mary’s hair and Mary said: “You are preoccupied, Anne. Is anything wrong?”
Anne stood still biting her lip. In apprehension Mary glanced at her body, remembering the case of Jane Wroth. Not Anne, surely!
Anne said: “I … cannot speak of it.”
“Nonsense. Not tell me! Come! Out with it.”
“Oh, I get so angry. It is Elizabeth Villiers. How dare she … deceive Your Highness so … and glory in it. There, I’ve said it. It’s been on the tip of my tongue these last six years. Six years! It’s no wonder …”
Mary had turned pale. That which she had forced herself to ignore and refuse to accept was now being thrust at her; and it was a hateful realization that she could not ignore it any longer.
“What are you saying, Anne?”
“What I should have said before. Your Highness does not know. They are so sly. But I hate … hate … hate to see it, and I can’t keep silent any longer.”
“Anne, you are becoming hysterical.”
“I feel hysterical. I have to stand by and see your life ruined. You might have dear little children by now. But how can you? He is never with you … or hardly ever. Something will have to be done.”
Mary called Mrs. Langford. She said: “Help Anne to her bed. I fear she is not well.”
Mrs. Langford came to Mary.
“Your Highness,” she said sorrowfully, “Anne Trelawny has told me what she said and she is afraid you are angry with her. She said it only out of her love for you.”
“I know.”
“Oh, my lady, my dear little lady, it’s true.”
“I do not wish to hear the subject mentioned again.”
“My lady, I’ve nursed you since you were little. I know you are a Princess but you will always be my baby.” Mrs. Langford began to cry. “I cannot bear to see you treated in this way.”
“There is no need for you to be sorry for me.”
“You don’t believe it, do you? You don’t believe he goes to her bed … almost every night. You don’t believe that when he tells you he has state matters to deal with he is there. She is his state matter, the sl
y squint-eyed whore.”
“You forget yourself.…”
“Oh, my little love, forgive me. But I cannot endure much more of this. Something should be done.”
Mary was silent. It was true. She had always known it. For years she had known it and pretended. No one had ever mentioned it and that had made it easy to live in a world of make-believe. But now they had drawn aside the veil of fantasy and there was the unpleasant and unavoidable truth to be faced.
“You don’t believe it, do you, my Princess?” went on Mrs. Langford. “It wouldn’t be so difficult to prove. They’ve got careless over the years. Over the years! Years of deceit. Think of it. And you longing for babies!”
Years of deceit! thought Mary.
She closed her eyes and saw the little boy who had come to her table to steal sweetmeats. Jemmy had noticed—so had others. They had been sorry for her; and many of them would have said: How she longs for a child; but she is barren. Some say the Prince is impotent. Others that he spends too much time with his squint-eyed mistress.
Hundreds of pictures from the past crowded into her mind. Elizabeth in the nursery—sly hurtful remarks … always making her uncomfortable … an enemy.
And now, William loved her. What was the use of hiding the truth. What was the use of pretending that William was a noble hero when everyone knew he was committing adultery under the same roof as that which sheltered his wife.
Perhaps they were right. Perhaps it was time something was done.
She spent a sleepless night and in the morning she told herself that she must ignore these whispers. She must speak severely to Mrs. Langford and Anne Trelawny.
But it was not easy.
“You don’t believe us,” said Mrs. Langford sadly.
Anne, that dear friend whom she knew had always loved her since their childhood, was bolder. “Your Highness does not want to believe,” she said, “and that is why you will not put us to the test.”
“Put you to the test?”
“Yes. Make sure that we are speaking the truth.”
“How?”
“He goes to her apartment almost every night. You could wait for him to leave it.”
She shook her head.
But she went on thinking about William and Elizabeth. She pictured him, slyly mounting the stairs to the maid of honor’s room, opening the door, Elizabeth waiting … the embrace. Sly Elizabeth! Cold William! What was this attraction between them? Were they laughing at her for being so simple that she had not discovered their deceit?
The card game was over. Mary said that she was tired and would retire to her room.
She smiled at the Prince, who although he did not play cards, had joined the assembly.
“You are looking tired,” she told him. “Could you not desert your work for one night and retire early?”
He looked at her coldly and replied that urgent dispatches were awaiting his attention.
“You work too hard,” she said, smiling fondly, and bade him goodnight.
Her ladies prepared her for bed and she dismissed them all except Anne Trelawny and Mrs. Langford. Then Anne brought a robe and wrapped it about her.
“It may well be that you will have to wait a long time at the foot of the privy stairs to the maids of honors’ apartments,” she said.
“I shall wait,” said Mary firmly.
They made her comfortable there.
They knew that he was visiting Elizabeth Villiers that night because Mrs. Langford’s son had been set to wait behind the hangings and he had seen him go to her.
Only Mary’s anger saved her from tears.
They had successfully convinced her that she had allowed herself to become an object of pity since, it seemed, all knew of the adulterous intrigue except herself.
William looked down at Elizabeth who yawned sleepily as she smiled up at him. She implied that she was utterly contented.
He felt rejuvenated, as he always did after these occasions. She attracted him as no other woman ever could. He did not know exactly what it was; she was knowledgeable, dignified, and without a trace of humility, which surprised him for he had always thought that docility was what he would ask in a woman, but she was so eager to be all that he wanted, he was deeply aware of that and it flattered him. She kept in step with him on state affairs and he guessed that must have been a great task; she was not afraid to offer an opinion. She was sensual but never over demanding; she seemed to be able to assess his strength to the smallest degree. She had made him her life, and she flattered him without seeming to do so. He would not have known what he wanted of a woman until he met Elizabeth and she had shown him.
He could never break with her, however much the intrigue worried his Calvinistic soul. He told himself that she was a necessity to him. She supplied the recreation he needed; with his frail body and active mind, he needed that relaxation and only she could give it. That was his excuse; and he would scheme and lie to keep her.
Sleek as a satisfied cat she watched him, delighted with the part she was called upon to play. The power behind the throne! She could not have asked for a more exciting role. She was no longer jealous of foolish sentimental Mary as she had been in the nursery days and she could always hug herself with delight to consider their positions now.
William shut the door gently and cautiously descended the privy stairs.
As he reached the last step a figure rose before him. He stared, unable to believe in those first seconds that it was his wife.
“Yes,” she said. “It is I.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you to finish dealing with those … state papers. I did not know that you kept them in Elizabeth Villiers’s bedchamber.”
“This is most unseemly.”
“I agree. The Prince of Orange tiptoeing from his mistress’s bedroom!”
“I do not wish to hear another word about this.”
“I do not suppose you do. But I wish to speak of it.”
“You are behaving even more foolishly than usual.”
“And, William, how are you behaving?”
“With great restraint, I assure you.”
“William …”
He pushed aside her arm.
“Go back to your apartments. I am most displeased with you. I should have thought you would have had more dignity than to behave like a cottage shrew.”
“And your behavior …” But her voice had faltered, he noticed, and he seized the advantage.
“I am more than displeased by your conduct,” he said. “I am very angry. I do not wish to see you or speak to you until you are in a more controlled and reasonable state of mind.”
With that he left her standing there, forlorn and tearful.
Anne Trelawny and Mrs. Langford, who had been listening, came out to take her to her bed.
They looked at each other in exasperation. One would have thought that she was the sinner. Oh, it was indeed time she had a kind and loving husband.
They got her to bed and she lay shivering and sleepless.
For some days William avoided her but he was very uneasy.
He sent for Bentinck as he did when he was perplexed, and told him what had happened.
“Someone must have advised her to do this. I suspect that girl Trelawny. I am going to find out, and if she is guilty she shall go back to England.”
“It’s a little harsh on the Princess,” suggested Bentinck.
“I don’t understand.”
“Your Highness was visiting my sister-in-law. She is your mistress. The Princess would naturally be disturbed to discover this!”
“And you think it right and fitting for her servants to help her to spy on me?”
“I think it a very natural state of affairs,” said Bentinck.
“There are times, my friend, when you exceed your duty.”
“I had believed that Your Highness always wanted me to answer your questions truthfully.”
“I do not want insolence …
even from my friends.”
“I would respectfully point out that there was no insolence in my reply.”
“You are being insolent now. You may go, Bentinck. I no longer need your presence.”
As Bentinck bowed and retired, William stared at the closed door in dismay. This was the first time he had ever quarreled with Bentinck; he could scarcely believe it had happened.
First to be discovered in that undignified way by a wife waiting at the bottom of a staircase! Then to be told he was in the wrong by one whose friendship he valued!
He was ashamed, and when he was ashamed he was angry.
Elizabeth opened very wide those eyes with the—to him—enchanting cast and said: “It is simple. Anne Trelawny and the Langford woman are at the bottom of this. They are always whispering together. Get rid of them and everything will be well.”
“I should want to prove them guilty first.”
“It should not be difficult. Others will be in it. Leave it to me. I’ll find out.”
He kissed her. He could trust her he knew, his clever Elizabeth.
In a few days she had the answer.
“It is more serious than we believed. James is behind this.”
“James? But how?”
“His idea is to have your marriage annulled so that Mary can make a marriage more to his liking.”
“A Catholic marriage!”
“That is exactly what he would like. Whether the people of England would accept that is another matter. In any case, James does not want you to remain his son-in-law. Covell is an old fool … fortunately. He cannot keep his mouth shut. He’s delighted to be working with Skelton who has his orders straight from Whitehall. You see the nature of our little plot?”
“You’re a clever girl, Elizabeth.”
“Have you only just discovered it?”
“I always knew it.”
“I am glad, for the more clever I am the greater service I can offer my Prince.”
