The Merry Monarch's Wife qoe-9 Read online

  “And he fell in love with her?”

  “Well, perhaps. It was something more than a passing fancy. Jemmy — James Crofts — was born in ’49…that terrible year when my husband was murdered.”

  “And did Charles acknowledge James Crofts as his son then?”

  “Charles is by nature…accommodating. Is that the right word? But it seems certain Jemmy is his. I suppose one can never be absolutely certain…even in the most respectable circles.” She gave a light laugh. “But there seems little doubt. Jemmy is every inch a Stuart.”

  “And what happened to his mother? Where is she now?”

  “Where sinners go when they leave this earth. She stayed at the Hague while Charles went to Scotland, and when he came back she no longer attracted him. The boy was put with Lord Crofts, and Lucy slipped back into the life which suited her best. She was given a pension and returned to London. But her connection with Charles was known and Cromwell’s men soon discovered her whereabouts. She was arrested in some lodgings near Somerset House and spent a time in the Tower, so I heard. But they must have realized she would not have had the wit to spy, so they sent her back to the continent. She died in Paris about two years before the restoration. My son James told me that he has always been uneasy about James Crofts. There was once a rumor that Charles married Lucy Walter. Quite absurd, of course, but it alarmed James. Well, well, until you produce the heir to the throne, James is there…next in line…and if Jemmy were Charles’s legitimate son, as he would be if Charles had married Lucy Walter…well, you see what I mean. But do not fret. There was no marriage. Charles would not be such a fool…and Lucy is long since dead. James Crofts is a delightful boy…like his father in many ways. Let us hope that he does not take after his mother.”

  “I see that I have a great deal to learn.”

  “Ma chérie, we all have much to learn. When I think of the mistakes I have made in my life…poof!” She made a gesture as though to blow them away. “I could spend my time saying, ‘What if I had not done this, that?’ Oh, it is no good. Sacré bleu, one must not regret too much…concern yourself with what is…now. Make up your mind. Is this what I want? you say. Forget all that has gone before. It is now that matters.”

  “You are so good to me, so understanding.”

  “Ah, life is so short. Let us live as best we can. It is the life hereafter that is important.”

  I said: “I was so unprepared. Since I have come here I have had many shocks.”

  “You mean with Charles?”

  “Yes, with Charles.”

  “I know him well. He is…is he not…my son? There is much that I would alter if I could. He is a man governed by the love of women…or perhaps I must say…the need of women. Some are like that. My father was. Charles inherits this…through me.” She lifted her shoulders and grimaced. “They will have their women, no matter what. For the rest, they are wise and witty, and at heart kindly…a little lazy…hating trouble. Charles is fond of you. He likes you very much…but he will never be faithful to you. It is not in him to be faithful…not to any woman. My father was like him. I saw how my mother lived. So I understand. Accept this weakness in him and he will be grateful to you, he will be kind. You will give him the son which is so necessary…and that son will be King. But do not try to interfere with those women of his. Remember, they are not important. I tell you before. You are the Queen, and the wife of the King is the mother of the King-to-be. Accept this and all is well. You say you had romantic dreams…but, chérie, life is not made of dreams. Yet it can be good. I have learned some wisdom in spite of all my follies. Would to God I had learned earlier. Bah…but it is always easy when solving the problems of others. It is only one’s own that are so difficult.”

  I took her hand and kissed it.

  “My dear, dear child,” she said. “It makes me happy that you are here. It is not the King’s amours that should concern us. It is his immortal soul. You will persuade him to the true faith in time. Do not whisper this, but I believe James is already there.”

  “Then,” I said, “I must accept these women. I must show friendship to them…to Lady Castlemaine?”

  “Her time will pass, chérie. And there will be another…perhaps an easier one. She is an odious creature…bold, brazen…but, let us face the truth…very handsome. She is outrageous and so amuses the King — and he likes to be amused. But never fear. She will be replaced.”

  I smiled. “What a blessing it is to be able to talk to you! You do me so much good. You are so wise.”

  She laughed. “I can tell you this: when I look back over my life, I can see that, if there were a palm for the most foolish of queens, that palm would be mine.”

  “No…no!”

  “Yes…yes! It is so. But never mind it now. It is over and finished. You are young and you are going to bring Charles’s soul to God.”

  “I will do my best.”

  “And you will succeed.”

  It was indeed comforting to talk to her. I had gained some advantage. Whatever more I had to learn of Charles’s amours, I could no longer be taken by surprise.

  HOPE AND DISAPPOINTMENT

  I HAD TAKEN THE QUEEN MOTHER’S ADVICE VERY SERIOUSLY and was trying to do what she suggested. I accepted the fact that I had married a man who was sexually insatiable and that one woman was not enough for him. I must remember that he was the King and, within certain limits, kings could take what they pleased. A certain laxity in the Portuguese court had been referred to. I had never been aware of this because I had been shut away from reality. But I was prepared now, and I must act accordingly.

  I no longer averted my eyes when Lady Castlemaine was near. I even talked to her in my faltering English. She seemed delighted at this and responded readily.

  I knew that people watched us and raised their eyebrows. Charles was pleased, though. I had been right to take his mother’s advice.

  We were often quite merry. I remember well that occasion when we were at supper. The King’s conversation was always amusing and there was a hushed silence when he spoke. This of course was due to their respect for royalty as well as appreciation of his wit.

  He liked to make me speak English on these occasions, and very often my pronunciation, or what I said, caused some mirth.

  The Queen Mother was present and I was always comforted by that. She gave me certain courage and Charles always showed his pleasure in our friendship.

  James Crofts was also with us, and now I understood why he was so often in close proximity to the King. Charles’s eyes often rested on him with pride. This was all clear to me now.

  His eyes were on James Crofts when he said to his mother: “There is happy news. Catherine and I shall soon have our son.”

  Queen Henrietta Maria’s expressive face shone with joy.

  “But this is magnifique!” she cried. “This pleases me much. This is the best news I can hear.”

  I was astounded. I looked at Charles. I sought for words. I cried: “You lie!”

  There was a silence round the table. I had insulted the King. To his face I had accused him of lying. Such a thing had never been heard of.

  Unacquainted as I was with the English language, I did not fully realize the impact such an accusation would have.

  Lady Castlemaine said jocularly: “But this is treason.”

  The King was laughing. “My Lady Castlemaine,” he said. “What was said might be termed a treasonable outburst in a subject, but surely a wife should be allowed to use a little plain speaking to her husband.”

  He put his hand over mine. “There, Queen Catherine, you see what a storm you have raised. Treason, they say. And you know the penalty for treason.”

  “Hanging,” said James Crofts.

  “And Jemmy,” said Charles. “If we were to send this lady to Tyburn, what would you do?”

  “I should ride there to rescue her.”

  “Well done. You are in certain danger, Catherine the Queen. Confess and be hanged.” He leaned toward
me. “Have no fear. I should be there before Jemmy. I would not allow anyone to harm a hair of my Queen’s head.”

  Then he took my hand and kissed it.

  I was bewildered by all this, but the tenderness in his eyes filled me with joy.

  Queen Hentietta Maria was watching me, unable as ever to hide her feelings. There was a glitter in her eyes, but I could see that the King’s attention to me delighted her.

  That night when I was in my bed, Charles came in. He stood at the foot of my bed, smiling at me.

  “Tonight,” he said, “you were not put out…not angry?”

  “No. Everyone seemed to be amused. But it was not true…what you said.”

  “One thing that is true is that, if that boy is not on the way, he should be.” He came toward me and put his arms around me.

  There was within me that which wanted to resist, to talk, to make conditions, but I remembered the Queen Mother’s words.

  And that night he stayed with me and it was as it had been in the beginning.

  * * *

  I STILL HAD A GREAT DEAL TO LEARN. Charles was so tender and eager, and so did he deceive me with his ardent lovemaking that I began to feel that he wanted to be with me more than any other. I should have remembered that at that particular art he was adept. It all came naturally to him. In the first place he had inherited skills from his grandfather, and practice had made him perfect.

  Perhaps I was deliberately blind. However, I was happy for a while.

  But almost immediately, another of those shocks to which I was becoming increasingly accustomed was waiting for me.

  I found Donna Elvira supervising the packing of her clothes — and not only Elvira. Donna Maria was lying on her bed, too overcome with grief to do anything.

  “What has happened?” I asked in dismay.

  “We are to leave in two days.”

  “Leave!”

  “All of us. It is the King’s orders, they say.”

  “There was talk of your going, but…”

  I went to Donna Maria. She said: “All your life I have been beside you. You are as my child…this separation will kill me.”

  “It must not be,” I said.

  “I am an old woman. My life is nearly over. I would the good God had taken me before this happened to me.”

  I wept with her. “I cannot let you go,” I said.

  “I am old and useless now. I can scarcely see you. What use am I?”

  “You are dear to me. I cannot imagine my life without you in it. You have always been there.”

  “Your mother gave me the care of you. I remember well when you were a child…so very young…at the Villa Viçosa.”

  “I remember too, for I was only two when we left there and you were with me then.”

  “Oh — if we had never left…if there had not been this fight for a crown…this royal marriage.”

  We wept together.

  Then I thought: I cannot let her go. It is true that it will kill her. I am all the life she knows. She has nothing more now. She is old and ill…and it is too cruel. I must speak to Charles. Would he come tonight? It would be the only chance of seeing him alone. Surely he would not refuse me this.

  I was so agitated that I could not wait. I sent for my secretary Sir Richard Bellings.

  “Sir Richard,” I said, “I must see the King. It is most urgent. Would you take a message to him.”

  “I will go at once, Your Majesty.”

  Charles came to me.

  “What ails you?” he asked.

  “It is my attendants. They are going to be sent back to Portugal.”

  “Their departure has been somewhat delayed. They were due to go weeks ago.”

  “Charles, they are my friends.”

  “Oh, you have good friends here now.”

  “These people understand me.”

  “Attendants always go back to their homeland. It is the custom.”

  “I do not speak the language here.”

  “Oh, but you are learning very quickly.”

  “You used to give me lessons.”

  “And very good you were. But you are surrounded by the English now and hear the language all the time. You are improving by leaps and bounds.”

  “Charles, I do not want them to go.”

  “Alas, my love, we must adhere to the custom. This is what we all have to do.”

  “You could stop it.”

  “It would not be good to do so.”

  “Poor Donna Maria is heartbroken. She is old and feeble. She has been with me all my life and this separation will kill her.”

  “Oh, come. She will get over it.”

  “Some people love deeply, Charles. Their emotions are not superficial. I tell you, this will kill Donna Maria.”

  “Poor old soul. Well, let her stay.”

  “Thank you. And there are my priests.”

  “Oh yes…some of them too. I have said they should stay, and your cook and some of those servants…but the rest, they will have to go.”

  I could see he was adamant.

  I thought of his promising Barbara Castlemaine a place in my household and how he had kept his word to her, no matter what trouble it caused. I told myself then that I had been foolish to think he really cared for me.

  I was plunged into melancholy when I said good-bye to my old friends, but at least Donna Maria was still with me.

  * * *

  I HAD A DESIRE TO RIDE OUT — not with the company which usually was with us — but alone. I could not do this, of course, but if I were accompanied by my Master of Horse, that would doubtless be acceptable.

  I sent for him.

  I said: “Mr. Montague, I wish to ride…but not in a party. I have a mood for solitude.”

  “I will prepare Your Majesty’s horse and I shall ride behind you.”

  “That would give me pleasure, Mr. Montague.”

  Very soon I was riding away from the palace. I did not have to mention that we should not go onto the open road. Edward Montague was the soul of discretion and would understand that. We took the sylvan paths.

  After a while I said: “Please ride beside me, Mr. Montague. I wish to talk to you.”

  He obeyed with such alacrity that I felt he was both honored and glad to do so.

  I had told myself I would sort out my thoughts as I rode, but I found I did not wish to do this. I had already decided on how I must act. I must try to see Charles as he really was, not as I had made him in my dreams. He had so many good qualities, so much that was lovable…too much really. But I must face the truth. There was a lasciviousness in his nature which nothing could subdue. I had to accept that, and ask myself whether I would be one of many…or simply nothing to him. He could not change, so I must needs do so.

  That was clear enough to me. The matter was settled and I would do my best not to torture myself with it further. I would take what I could get, because even though I had discovered this flaw in his nature, I could love him nonetheless.

  I tried to interest myself in Edward Montague. I wanted to hear about his life.

  He was of that family to which the Earl of Sandwich belonged, and it was the Earl who had been instrumental in getting him his place at court.

  I had guessed that Edward Montague was something of a Puritan by the manner of his dress and his way of speaking, and I was sure he was more than a little shocked by some of the frivolity he observed at court.

  “The Earl of Sandwich, I believe, commanded the fleet under the Roundheads,” I said.

  “It is true, Your Majesty. He worked for England, and at one time that meant for Oliver Cromwell.”

  “I expect he had a respect for the Lord Protector.”

  “I have always understood, Your Majesty, that the Lord Protector was a man who commanded respect.”

  “I expect you are right. Life must have been very different under Puritan rule.”

  “Very different indeed, Madam.” I heard the disapproval in his voice. Like everyone else, he
would know the kind of life the King and most of his associates lived.

  I found it comforting to talk to someone who felt thus. It was in tune with my own thoughts.

  How happy I could have been if I had married a man of moral instincts! But, I reminded myself, he would probably not have been as attractive as the one I had married.

  I said: “I am sad at this time, Mr. Montague, because I have so recently said good-bye to some of my friends.”

  “I understand, Madam. But you have good friends here.”

  “I hope so. But the friends I have lost had been with me for a very long time. They spoke my native language, and it is sometimes difficult for me to talk in English. It is often not easy to find the words, and there can be misunderstandings.”

  I thought of myself arguing with Charles in Spanish. I wondered if I had sometimes misunderstood him and he me.

  “Soon Your Majesty will be speaking the language fluently.”

  “I hope so, Mr. Montague.”

  “Madam…I should like you to know…” He hesitated.

  “Yes, Mr. Montague?”

  “I am at your service, Your Majesty. Anything you wish…anything. It is my urgent desire to serve you with my life.”

  I was taken aback. He was such a solemn young man. But I liked his earnestness. It was comforting to know that he held me in such esteem. I did not quite understand what he meant, but it was pleasant to hear it said.

  I felt better as I rode with him back to the stables.

  * * *

  ALMOST EVERY EVENING I saw Lady Castlemaine. I made a point of being affable to her, which pleased her, and she was inclined to seek every opportunity of speaking to me. I hated her, and I think she despised me; but we both kept our feelings well under a cloak of pretence.

  It was a great effort to me and I was often on the point of telling her that I would prefer not to feign this friendship, but I remembered what Queen Henrietta Maria had told me, and I was sure she was right.