The Queen's Devotion: The Story of Queen Mary II (19 page)

I said: “I will see him in the morning. I am just about to retire.”

“Your Highness, the Prince said that I was not to return without Your Highness. He wishes you to put on suitable garments without delay and come to him at the Palace.”

My thoughts went back to that other occasion when I had had to change from my mourning gown at his command.

Suppose I refused? I could not. I dared not. I wondered what he would do if I did? Would he bring Jemmy here? Would he come himself? I very much wanted to see Jemmy.

Only briefly did I hesitate. Then I told the messenger he should wait below and I should be with him very shortly and we would go to the prince's apartments.

There I found Jemmy with William. It was wonderful to see my cousin again. I forgot all ceremony and so did he.

We embraced and he hugged me tightly.

“Little cousin,” he said. “What a joy to see you.”

“Jemmy,” I murmured, “dear Jemmy.”

“Let me look at you. Why, you have grown into a beauty. William, you must be proud of her.”

William did not answer and I did not look his way.

“Oh, Jemmy,” I began.

He squeezed my hand. “We'll have opportunities to talk, I know.”

We dined together. William was very affable. I had rarely seen him in such a mood and I wondered at it, since they both had pretensions to the throne. Jemmy was so good-looking, so charming, he would have a way of beguiling the people and there would be many on his side. He was the Protestant hope—or at least one of them. Could he ever manage to escape his illegitimacy? William and he were rivals.

There must be some devious motive behind William's affability, but I did not want to think of it at this time. Suffice it that Jemmy was here.

William was determined that he should have lodgings worthy of the Duke of Monmouth during his visit to the court of The Hague and he suggested the Prince Maurice Palace.

Jemmy's eyes shone. I knew from the past that there was little he enjoyed more than to be treated with the deference due to rank.

“You must let me know what servants you require,” William said, “and I shall see that they are provided.”

This was special treatment. William listened with courteous attention to everything Jemmy said and encouraged him to talk—which was scarcely needed.

The thought came into my mind that Jemmy would need to be very alert if he intended to pit his wits against William's.

That was a pleasant evening—perhaps I might say the most pleasant I had had since my arrival in Holland. William treated even me with a show of gracious concern. I felt lighthearted. But there was a tinge of sadness. Jemmy's coming reminded me too poignantly of home.

THE NEXT DAYS
were some of the most exciting of my life.

I must be seen everywhere with William and Monmouth. I was treated with courtesy; the people cheered me—in fact, I believe they did so more warmly for me than for William. He would notice this, of course, but he showed no sign of resentment. I thought perhaps the people may have heard whispers of his treatment of me and wanted to tell me that they were sorry for me. I could not help being flattered and pleased.

Jemmy was delighted. He was acclaimed by the people. That was of the utmost importance to him. Poor Jemmy, all through his life he had sought to escape the stigma of illegitimacy.

He quickly became popular, of course, and at every opportunity showed his strong allegiance to Protestantism.

I was glad they liked him. As for myself, I looked forward with great delight to his company. He was always so tender and considerate toward me, and so loving that I could almost fancy he was falling in love with me.

It was a ridiculous thought, but I was starved of affection. I was, after all, young, unworldly, sentimental.

I knew that Jemmy shared with the King and my father the particular Stuart failing. One of their main objects in life was to enjoy the society of attractive women.

Lady Henrietta Wentworth had arrived at The Hague and to everyone's amazement had been received as though she were the Duchess of Monmouth, even by William. Lady Henrietta was, of course, known to be Jemmy's mistress of some years' standing. I guessed that the real Duchess, his wife, had stayed in England. It was not a happy marriage. It had been a great match for him but I supposed that once he was in possession of her titles and fortune he forgot whence they came, as so many do.

It was absurd for me to have fancies about Jemmy, but one can be absurd at times, especially when one has lived the life of a recluse for several years, and then is thrust into a world of fun and gaiety.

Lady Henrietta did not, however, intrude, which meant that Jemmy's attention was all for me. It was amazing that William, who had ever before been watchful of all those who were allowed to visit me, now seemed to give Jemmy and me absolute freedom.

Jemmy liked to dance and so did I. In fact, in my apartments now and then I danced with my women.

Jemmy said there were several new dances now fashionable at Whitehall and he would teach me some of them. William raised no objection and this gave Jemmy and me a chance of some private conversation.

I learned the dances quickly and we sat and talked.

“We have heard reports of what is happening to you here,” he told me. “Tell me first, are you happy?”

I could talk to Jemmy frankly. I said: “I am getting accustomed to it.”

He grimaced. “My poor little cousin. It was hard in the beginning, I know. You were so frightened. My heart bled for you.”

“Thank you, Jemmy. But it happens to many people. That was what they told me. I hated leaving everyone I loved.”

“And your husband?”

“I did not understand him at first.”

“And you do now?”

“He is a man whom it is not easy to understand.”

“I'd agree with that,” said Jemmy grimly.

“But I am not really unhappy now. I am alone often but I can read . . . and think. I can fill my time.”

“It is a strange way to treat a Princess of Orange.”

I was silent for a while and then I said: “And you, Jemmy? It must be sad for you.”

“To be sent away from my country? Yes it is.”

“It is not the first time.”

He laughed. “I am in a delicate position, you might say. Mary, you do not believe I was involved in a plot to kill your father and mine?”

“If you tell me you were not, I will believe you.”

“I would never harm my father. You know I love him well.”

“As we all do.”

“It is difficult. The English . . . you know . . . they will never have a Catholic king on the throne.”

“If the rightful heir is a Catholic, they must.”

“One does not say ‘must' to the people, and particularly the people of England.”

“Then what?”

He shrugged his shoulders and was silent.

“And Jemmy,” I said, “what of you?”

He said: “I am the King's son. None can doubt. The King himself never has.”

“But your mother was not married to the King.”

“There are some who say there was a marriage.”

“That cannot be true, can it, Jemmy? The King has always denied it.”

Jemmy's face hardened. “If there were proof,” he said.

“How could there be?”

His hand closed over mine. “In life, dear Mary, one should never shut one's eyes to any possibility.”

“Jemmy, if it were so . . .”

“Ah,” said Jemmy, “if it were! Now I am going to show you another dance. This was very popular in Whitehall before I left.”

“Oh, Jemmy, how I wish all this trouble would be over. I hope the King goes on and on. Then it can stay as it is.”

“Yes,” said Jemmy. “Long life to him! But it has to come, you know.”

He stood up and held out his hands to me. I rose and he led me onto the floor, instructing me in the new dance from Whitehall.

THERE WAS TROUBLE WITH CHUDLEIGH
, the English Envoy, with whom William had not been on very good terms since his arrival.

Because of William's past friendship with Sidney and Russell, who had both been proved to be traitors, it was inevitable that Chudleigh should be highly suspicious of William, and as he was not the most tactful of men, he had made this clear.

He was shocked—and I supposed many people were amazed by this—that William should at this time pay such attention to the Duke of Monmouth. The King had been surprised and made his wry comments, but the extraordinary thing was that the Duke should have been made such an honored guest. Moreover, the Princess of Orange, who had previously spent much of her time in seclusion and was the daughter of one of the intended victims of the Rye House Plot, was giving him the most flattering attention.

I could understand how strange this must appear. I should have liked to have explained that it was my husband who had decreed, or more or less commanded, that I should help to entertain Monmouth and I was merely obeying him. I did not believe Monmouth had seriously meant to kill my father or uncle. He was reckless and could be caught up in people's plots without having any real part in them. I was just excited to be with someone who made me feel merry and able to enjoy life.

There was much that would be difficult for people to understand; and I did not entirely understand it myself.

Eager to perform his new duties with efficiency, horrified that William should be honoring an exile from England, Chudleigh took action.

He gave instructions to the English soldiers under Dutch command that they were not to salute the Duke of Monmouth.

When William heard of this he was furious. He sent for Chudleigh. Several people heard what took place and it was talked of freely, so I was able to hear about it.

William demanded of Chudleigh how he could have the temerity to give orders to the Dutch army.

Sure of himself, Chudleigh retorted: “The Duke of Monmouth, Your Highness, is an exile from England on account of his complicity in a plot to take the lives of the King and the Duke of York. It is a matter of great astonishment to His Majesty's Government, which I serve, that he should be so honored. I consider it my duty to prevent the Duke's receiving the homage which appears to be given to him, for he is a traitor to my country, which is also his.”

William replied: “I would have you know that while you are in this country, you must obey its laws.”

“I must remind Your Highness,” retorted Chudleigh, “that I am not one of your subjects. I am here to serve
my
country and that is something I shall always do.”

William was carrying a cane, which he often did. I believed it was because he sometimes felt a weakness and a need to lean on something. He lifted his cane. It came within a few inches of Chudleigh's face and it was clear that it was his intention to strike him. I imagined the awestruck silence and what the effect would have been if William had carried out such an action.

William apparently restrained himself in time, remembering the courtesy due to the Envoy of a friendly country.

Chudleigh said coolly: “If I have Your Highness's permission to retire, I will do so.”

And the scene was over.

William must have been fuming with rage.

Chudleigh would certainly report what had happened and I knew that there would be surprise that I could be on such friendly terms with a man who had been sent into exile because he was suspected of being involved in a plot to murder my father.

THERE WAS A LETTER FROM MY FATHER
. He was hurt and angered by the treatment of the Duke of Monmouth at the court of The Hague, and by the fact that I had not only partaken in it but with such enthusiasm. He was surprised that I could do so. The Duke of Monmouth was in exile, being suspected of planning to murder the King and himself. It seemed that the Prince of Orange, a kinsman of theirs, was acting as enemy rather than friend.

He went on to say that he knew I did not meddle in these affairs, but I should talk to the Prince and tell him what an effect this was having.

I smiled at this, imagining myself explaining to William. My father clearly did not understand the state of affairs here.

He went on: “Let the Prince flatter himself as he pleases, the Duke of Monmouth will do his best to have a push with him for the crown, if he, the Duke of Monmouth, outlives the King and me.”

I put down the letter. Did he really think that Monmouth or William would wait for his death? My poor, ineffectual father! How could he so deceive himself?

How little he knew of what was going on around me!

THE MERRY LIFE CONTINUED
. There was a ball in honor of Monmouth. This was extraordinary, for William hated balls. To him they were foolish frivolity and a waste of time. But he appeared at this one—though he did not stay for long. He actually danced with me once—something I would have found hard to believe could ever happen.

I think he was anxious to show himself closely allied to the Protestant cause, and since Monmouth was an avowed one, he wanted everyone to know that he was anxious to see a Protestant ruler on the throne of England, and even if the people chose the bastard Monmouth, he would accept him because of his religion.