Here Lies Our Sovereign Lord

by Виктория Холт

  He was growing old; therefore that immense infatuation he had felt for Hortense, and which had flared up so suddenly, as suddenly died down. He wanted to be amused. Louise was no good at amusing him. She would only weep and recount her ills. So he made his way to Nell’s house in Pall Mall.

  Nell was delighted to receive him. There she was, ready to act court jester, ready to laugh at him, the disconsolate lover who had been disappointed in his mistress, but ready to comfort, ready to show beneath all that banter and high spirits that she felt motherly towards him and was really very angry with the foolish Hortense for preferring the Prince of Monaco.

  Buckingham was often at Nell’s house. So was Monmouth. Shaftesbury was there. Nell was getting herself embroiled with the Whigs, thought Charles with amusement.

  But it was pleasant to have Nell dance and sing for them and, when Charles saw her imitation of Lady Danby, and Buckingham’s of Lady Danby’s husband, the King found himself laughing as he had not laughed for some weeks. He realized that he had been foolish to neglect the tonic only Nell could give.

  Then, with Louise recuperating at Bath, and Hortense relegated to being just one of Charles’ more casual mistresses, Nell stepped into chief place once more.

  Rochester warned her: “’Twill only be for a while, Nell. Louise will be back to the fray—doubt it not. And she’s a fine lady, while the dust of the Cole-yard still clings to little Nell. Not that I should try to wipe it off. That was where Moll failed. But do not be surprised if you are not number one all the time. Just fall back when required, but make hay, Nelly. Make hay while the sun shines.”

  So Nell made the King visit her not only for parties but during the day, that he might come to better acquaintance with his two sons.

  One day she called little Charles to tell him that his father had come.

  “Come hither, little bastard,” she called.

  “Nelly,” protested the King, “do not say that.”

  “And why should I not?”

  “It does not sound well.”

  “Sound well or not, ’tis truth. For what else should I call the boy since his father, by giving him no other title, proclaims him such to the world?”

  The King was thoughtful, and very shortly after that one of Nell’s dearest ambitions was realized.

  Her son was no longer merely Charles Beauclerk; he was Baron Headington and Earl of Burford.

  Nell danced through the house in Pall Mall, waving the patent which proclaimed little Charles’ title.

  “Come hither, my lord Burford,” she shouted. “You have a seat in the House of Lords, my love. Think of that! You have a King for a father, and all the world knows it.”

  The new Earl laughed aloud to see his mother so gay, and little James—my lord Beauclerk—joined with him.

  She seized them and hugged them. She called to the servants, that she might introduce them to my lord Burford and my lord Beauclerk.

  She could be heard, shouting all day: “Bring my lord Burford’s pectoral syrup. I swear he has a cough coming. And I doubt not that it would be good for my lord Beauclerk to take some too. Oh, my lord Burford needs a new scarf. I will go to the Exchange for white sarcenet this very day.”

  She fingered delicate fabrics in the shops. She bought shoes, laced with gold, for the children. “My lord Burford has such tender feet … and his brother, my lord Beauclerk, not less so.”

  The house echoed with Nell’s laughter and delighted satisfaction.

  The servants imitated their mistress, and it seemed that every sentence uttered to any in that house must contain a reference to my lord Earl or my lord Beauclerk.

  EIGHT

  Nell was busy during the months which followed. These were the happiest of her life, she believed. Charles was a frequent visitor; his delight in my lord Burford and my lord Beauclerk was unbounded; the little boys were well; and Nell’s parties were gayer than ever.

  It was true that there was no title for her, but Charles had promised her that as soon as he could arrange it, he would make her a Countess.

  Nell allowed herself to shelve this ambition. Little Charles was an Earl, and nothing could alter that. She was ready to be contented.

  Hortense was friendly and wrote to Nell, congratulating her on the elevation of her sons.

  Nothing could have delighted Nell more.

  “I have a letter here,” she called to her steward, Mr. Groundes. “The Duchess Mazarin congratulates the Earl of Burford on his elevation.”

  “That is good of her, Madam.”

  “It is indeed good, and more than Madam Squintabella has had the good manners to do. Why, since the Duchess is so gracious concerning the Earl of Burford, I think I will call upon her and give her my thanks.”

  So Nell called for her Sedan and was carried to the apartments of the Duchess Mazarin, calling out, as she went through the streets, to her friends. “I trust I see you well?” “And you too,” would come the answer. “And your family?” “Oh, my lord Burford is well indeed. My lord Beauclerk has a little cough.” Then she would call at the apothecary’s. “We are running short of pectoral syrup, and my lord Beauclerk’s cough has not gone. I like to have it ready, for when my lord Beauclerk has a cough it very often happens that his brother, the Earl, catches it.”

  It was disconcerting, on arriving at the Duchess’ apartments in St. James Palace, to find the Duchess of Portsmouth already there.

  Louise, who was chatting with the French ambassador, Courtin, gave Nell a haughty look. Lady Harvey, who was also present, smiled uncertainly. Only Hortense was gracious. But Nell did not need anyone to help her out of an awkward situation. She went to Louise and slapped her on the back.

  “I always have thought that those who ply the same trade should be good friends,” she cried.

  Louise was horrified; Nell was unperturbed. While Hortense smiled her sleepy friendly smile.

  “It was kind of you to come,” she said.

  “Indeed I came!” declared Nell. “I was touched by your good wishes, Duchess. My lord Burford would have come to thank you in person, but he keeps my lord Beauclerk company.”

  “You must be very happy,” said Hortense.

  “And gratified,” said Louise, “having worked so hard and so consistently to bring it about. Your son is fortunate indeed to have such a mother.”

  “And such a father,” said Nell. “There has never been any doubt as to who my lord Burford’s father is—although ’tis more than can be said for some.”

  Louise was taken aback although she could not believe the affront was meant for her. She had led an exemplary life—apart from that strange and somewhat tepid relationship she shared with Danby.

  “And the same goes for my lord Beauclerk,” said Nell.

  Louise recovered her equanimity quickly. “I rejoice to say my own little Duke is well.”

  Nell at that moment was determined that before she died my lord Burford should be a Duke.

  Hortense said to Nell quickly: “I have heard that you have petticoats which are the wonder of all that behold them.”

  “I have a good seamstress,” said Nell. She stood up and, lifting her skirts, began to dance, twirling her lace petticoats as she did so.

  Hortense laughed. “You twirl so we can scarcely see them. I pray you let us examine them more closely.”

  “You’ll not find better work in London,” said Nell. “And this woman will be making silk hoods with scarves to them for my lord Burford and my lord Beauclerk.” She became alert; she could never resist the pleasure of doing a good turn. “Why, I doubt not this good woman would be ready to make for Your Graces if you should so wish it.”

  Hortense said that she did wish it; Louise said she feared she must go, and left while the rest of the company were examining Nell’s petticoats.

  Nell’s eyes fell on the French ambassador. “Come, sir,” she said, “like you not my petticoats? Portsmouth hath not finer, for all the presents that are sent to her by the King of France.
Why, you should tell your King, sir, that he would do better to send presents to the mother of my lord Burford than to that weeping willow. I can tell you, sir, the King liketh me better than Fubbs. Why, almost every night he sleeps with me, you know.”

  Courtin hardly knew what to answer. He bowed awkwardly, fixing his eyes on the petticoats. Then he said: “Great matters need great consideration.”

  And after a while Nell took her leave and went back to her chair, stopping to buy shoestrings merely for the pleasure of telling the keeper of the shop in the New Exchange that they would grace the little shoes of my lord Burford.

  In Nell’s house the Whigs gathered. Shaftesbury and Buckingham were excited. They believed that the country was behind them and that if they could bring about a general election they would have no difficulty in getting a majority.

  Danby was nervous. He knew that, once Shaftesbury’s party was in power, it would be the end of his career. He was determined to avoid the dissolution of the present parliament at all cost.

  Shaftesbury and Buckingham planned to bring this about. And Nell, believing that Danby was the one who was preventing the King from giving her the patent which would make her a Countess, and knowing that he was the friend of Louise, assured them that she supported them wholeheartedly. Nell believed that once Shaftesbury was in power he would make her a Countess.

  She did not realize that, in demanding a new election, Shaftesbury and Buckingham were going against the King’s wishes, and that Charles’ great desire was to rule without a Parliament, as he believed the Divine Right intended a King to rule. It was ever Charles’ desire to put Parliament into recess, from which he only wished to call it when it was necessary for money to be voted into the exchequer.

  Nell was awaiting the result of the meeting of Parliament and preparing for the banquet she would give that night. She believed that the diabolically clever Shaftesbury and the brilliant Buckingham would come back to her house to tell her how they had defeated Danby’s administration, and how there was to be a new election which would certainly give them a majority over the Court Party in both Houses.

  Then, she thought, I shall be made a Countess. Charles wishes to do it. It is only Danby who, to please Fubbs, prevents him.

  While she waited a visitor called. This was Elizabeth Barry, a young actress in whom my lord Rochester was interested. He had found a place for her on the stage and was helping her to make a great career. He had begged Nell to do all she could for Elizabeth, and Nell, who would have been ready to give a helping hand to any struggling actress, even if she had not been a friend of Rochester’s, had done so wholeheartedly.

  Now Elizabeth was frightened.

  “To tell the truth, Nell,” she said, “I am with child, and I know not what my lord will say.”

  “Say! He will find great pleasure in the fact. All men think they are so fine that the hope of seeing a copy of themselves fills them with pleasure.”

  “My lord hates ties, as you know. He might look upon this child as such.”

  “Nay, acquaint him with the facts, Bess. They’ll delight him.”

  “I understand him well,” said Elizabeth uneasily. “He likes to laugh. He says that a weeping woman is like a wet day in the country. He hates the country as much as he hates responsibility. I once heard him say to a dog who bit him: ‘I wish you were married and living in the country!’”

  ” ’Tis the way he has with words. He must ever say what he thinks to be clever, no matter whether he means it or not. Nay, Elizabeth, you should have no fear. He will love this child, and you the more for bearing it.”

  “I would I could believe it.”

  “I’ll see that he does,” said Nell fiercely. And Elizabeth believed she would, and was greatly comforted.

  They talked of children then, and as Nell was discussing in detail her feelings and ailments while she was carrying my lord Burford and my lord Beauclerk, another visitor arrived. This was William Fanshawe, thin and poor, who held a small post at Court. He had married Lucy Water’s daughter, Mary, over whom the King had exercised some care, although he had refused to acknowledge the child as his own, since everyone was fully aware that she could not be.

  “’Tis William Fanshawe,” said Nell. “He is proud because his wife is with child. He will boast and try to convince you that Mary was in fact the King’s daughter, I doubt not. It is the main subject of his discourse.”

  William Fanshawe was ushered in.

  “Why, Will,” cried Nell, “right glad I am to see you. And how fares your wife? Well, I trust, and happy with her belly.”

  Fanshawe said that his wife was hoping the child would bear a resemblance to her royal father.

  “’Tis to be hoped,” said Nell, “that the baby will not take so long to get born as her mother did.” This was a reference to the fact that Lucy Water’s daughter was born far more than nine months after Charles had left her mother. But Nell softened at once and offered a piece of friendly advice. “And Will, spend not too much on the christening but reserve yourself a little to buy new shoes that will not dirty my rooms, and mayhap a new periwig that I may not smell your stink two storys high.”

  William took this in good part. He was delighted to be near one who was in such close touch with royalty.

  But it was clear to Nell that he had not come merely to talk of his wife’s pregnancy, and that he had something to say to her which was not for Elizabeth’s ears.

  So, finding some pretext for dismissing Elizabeth, she settled down to hear Fanshawe’s news.

  “Your friends are committed to the Tower,” he said.

  “What friends mean you?” asked Nell, aghast.

  “Shaftesbury, Buckingham, Salisbury, and Wharton … the leaders of the Country Party.”

  “Why so?”

  “By the King’s orders.”

  “Then he has been forced to this by Danby!”

  “They argued that a year’s recess automatically dissolved a Parliament. They should have known that His Majesty would never agree that this was so, since it is His Majesty’s great desire that Parliament be in perpetual recess. The King was angry with them all. He fears, it seems, that the fact that they make such a statement may put it into the members’ heads to pass a law making a year’s recess a lawful reason for dissolution.”

  “So … he has sent them to the Tower!”

  “Nell, take care. You dabble in dangerous waters and you are being carried out of your depth.”

  Nell shook her head. “My lord Buckingham is my good friend,” she said. “He was my good friend when I was an orange-girl. Should I fail to be his when he is a prisoner in the Tower?”

  The King took time off from his troubles to enjoy a little domesticity with Nell. These were happy times, for Nell’s contentment was a pleasure to witness.

  Charles took great delight in discussing their sons’ future. Ironically he copied Nell’s habit of referring to them by their full titles every time he addressed them or spoke of them to Nell.

  “Nell, my lord Burford and my lord Beauclerk must receive an education due to their rank.”

  Nell’s eyes sparkled with pleasure.

  “Indeed yes. They must be educated. I would not like to see my lord Burford nor my lord Beauclerk suffer the tortures I do when called upon to handle a pen.”

  “I promise you they shall not. You know, there is one place where they could receive the best education in the world—the Court of France.”

  Nell’s expression changed. “Take them away from me, you mean?”

  “They would merely go to France for a year or so. Then they would come back to you. They would come back proficient in all the graces of the noblemen you wish them to be.”

  “But they wouldn’t be my boys anymore.”

  “I thought you wished that they should be lords and dukes.”

  “I do indeed; and forget not that you have promised they shall be. But why should they not be with their mother?”

  “Because it is t
he custom for children of high rank to be brought up in the households of noblemen, Nell. Had I left Jemmy with his mother, he would never have been the young nobleman he is today.”

  “Which might have been better for him and others. Mayhap then he would not have been strutting about as Prince Perkin.”

  “You speak truth. I would not press this. It is a decision you must come to for yourself. Keep them with you if you wish it. But if you would have them take their place in the world beside others of their rank, then must they follow a similar course of education.”

  “Why should I not have tutors for them?”

  “It is for you to say.”

  When the King left Nell, she was disturbed.

  She found the boys playing with Mrs. Turner, their governess, in charge of them. They ran to her as she entered.

  “Mama,” they cried. “Here is Mama, come to sing and dance for us.”

  Nell had rarely felt less like singing and dancing.

  She dismissed Mrs. Turner and hugged the boys. They were so beautiful, she thought. They had an air of royalty which, no matter what education they received, must surely carry them to greatness. Charles was the image of his father. My darling, darling Earl of Burford, thought Nell; and little James? Nay, he had not the same air as his brother. There were times when Nell thought she saw her mother in him. This was not a new idea. She had settled her mother in a house in Pimlico, where she was very contented to be. Nell did not want her mother to influence those two precious lives.

  “Mama,” said Lord Burford, “are you sad?”

  “Nay … nay, my little lord. I’m not sad. How could I be when I have two such precious lambs?” She kissed them tenderly. “Would you like to go to France?” she asked abruptly.

  “Where’s France?” asked Lord Beauclerk.

  “Across the water,” said his brother. “’Tis a grand, beautiful place. Papa lived there a long time.”