Exit Lady Masham (7 page)

"That you, dear coz, of all people, you, our admired 'Mrs. Still,' you, the very embodiment of prudence and decorum, should prove a wanton! You make me feel that I have been a sadly behind-time Laertes. I should have warned you not to open your chaste treasure to our captain's 'unmastered importunity.'"

"Laertes! It is of another of Master Shakespeare's counsellors that
you
put me in mind!"

"Do you mean Cressida's uncle, you hussy?" Harley exploded into a fit of laughs mingled with rasping coughs. "But, my dear girl, I wasn't trying to bring you to Masham's bed! On the contrary, I expected you to be a pinnacle of virtue! The worst you could say of me was that I was a marriage broker."

"Marriage! That's something you can forget about now."

"What makes you say so?"

"Because Mr. Masham will not marry a whore!"

"Ah, my dear." Harley's tone was kinder now as he took in my tears. "Mr. Masham is still serious about marriage. Only his price has gone up."

"His price?"

"He expects the Queen to make him a peer now."

"He won't ask her
that
!" I cried in dismay.

"No. But I shall."

"Oh, Mr. Harley, the shame of it! I can't endure it."

"Tush, tush, child. The Queen's a Stuart; never forget that. Think of her father and uncle! I have arranged more difficult matters with her. Masham will not get all he wants, but he will get something. And I shall be surprised if we do not have a royal godmother at your son's christening! Cheer up, lass."

"But I don't want to marry Mr. Masham!"

Harley wagged a finger at me. "You should have thought of that before you let him tumble you."

What could I say? Of course I was going to marry Masham if there was any way it could be brought about. The alternative was to be dismissed from court and give birth to my baby in the street. Even Harley would not have given me shelter had I spurned his advice. And as for the Duchess—I knew only too well how
she
would treat me. She had cut her husband's own sister for the same offense, and Arabella Churchill had had a king to sire her bastard!

"I suggest that you mend your fences with Masham," Harley continued in a more practical tone. "You have him much upset. A word, a smile, and all will be well. In the meanwhile I'll speak to the Queen. The less time that we lose, the better."

It was agreed that I should be in the adjoining chamber when Harley spoke privately to my mistress, and that the door would be left ajar. At the appropriate moment he would call my name, and I would hurry in to fling myself on my knees before her. My heart, when the terrible time came, was beating so rapidly that I could hardly distinguish the first words of the interview. It did not make matters easier for me that when Her Majesty's voice became at last intelligible, I recognized the note of stiffness that signalized her stubborn moods.

"You wish to speak to me about a favor for Mrs. Hill, Mr. Harley? Is it not a household matter? Should you not address yourself to Mrs. Danvers? Or even the Duchess?"

"Perhaps, ma'am, I have allowed my concern for my kinswoman to carry me beyond the bounds of a strict etiquette. But I venture to observe that even in the court of a sovereign as greatly beloved as yourself, the ardor of Mrs. Hill's devotion to Your Majesty stands out."

"The girl is fond of me, I do believe."

"Ah, ma'am, she lives for you!"

The Queen's voice at this seemed to relent. "What is it that you seek for Hill, Mr. Harley?"

"Something that will put her future on a more stable basis, ma'am."

"More stable? Can she be more secure than with my favor?" The edge had returned to my mistress's tone. "Or do you, Mr. Harley, like those ravens in the court of the Elector of Hanover, look forward to an early demise of the crown?"

"Heaven forbid, ma'am! May they perish while you still hold your scepter high! I was merely referring to the establishment that every maiden may wish for herself, even one so happily situated as Mrs. Hill. I mean marriage, ma'am."

"Is Mrs. Hill aware that you are speaking for her in this connection?"

"She is, ma'am."

"Then I suppose it is Mr. Masham you have in mind."

"Nothing escapes Your Majesty's eye!"

"So
this
is what you call Hill's living for me!" But the Queen's tone was not unfriendly. "Well, I have no objection to Mr. Masham. So long as he will not take Hill away from court. She is quite indispensable to me. But as Mr. Masham is a member of the Prince's household, I presume there will be no question of any such removal. Very well, Mr. Harley. You may tell Mr. Masham that he has my permission to offer himself to Hill."

The silence that ensued conveyed to me some sense of Harley's embarrassment.

"Mr. Masham has ventured to suggest that under the circumstances Your Majesty might deign to consider a promotion for him."

"Under
what
circumstances?"

"My cousin, ma'am, is a dowerless maiden. Nor can she point to any great distinction in family."

"She can point to
you,
Mr. Harley. Not to mention the Duchess."

"That is true, ma'am. But her father was in trade. Mr. Masham, as the heir of a baronet, might look higher."

"What must he have to take her?"

I knew that the pause that followed meant that Harley had dropped all idea of a peerage. "Would you consider making him a brigadier, ma'am?"

"To wed a woman of my bedchamber? Mr. Harley, are you serious?"

"Could you make him a colonel, then?"

"A colonel! And I thought you were talking about a gift of a hundred pounds or the rangership of a royal park. No, Mr. Harley, your candidate holds himself far too dear. I think poor Hill must forgo any dreams of wedded bliss."

I saw what was coming and wanted to forestall it. Anything would have been better at that moment than the truth! But Harley pressed inexorably on.

"I fear, ma'am, there is another aspect to the case."

"And what is that?"

"I crave Your Majesty's indulgence."

"Speak on, man!"

"My cousin is an excellent and virtuous woman. But there are some ardent young couples today, ma'am, who anticipate the privileges of matrimony without awaiting publication of the banns."

I could picture, with a sinking heart, the drawing-down of my mistress's lips.

"Are you suggesting that Hill and Masham have been such a couple?"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am."

"And with the usual results? Is the girl breeding?"

In the silence I could picture Harley's reluctant nod of assent.

"The strumpet!" the Queen cried in a suddenly sharp tone that brought my hands to my ears. "What will the Duchess say? How can I tell her that Hill has been debauched in my service? That she has been wantoning with this lewd fellow under my very nose?"

Almost before I knew what I was doing, I had rushed into the chamber and thrown myself at the Queen's feet.

"Oh, ma'am, forgive me! Do not cast me off! Had I had the blessing of your kindness and example in my younger years, I should never have so misconducted myself. I have never loved any man as I have loved Your Majesty! I was tricked into submission, ma'am. I did not know what men were!"

"Mistress Hill!" Harley exclaimed sharply. "You forget yourself. Leave this presence."

"No, Mr. Harley," the Queen intervened in a gentler tone. "I think it is you who had better go. Leave me with Hill."

When I was alone with the Queen, she said nothing. She simply sat and looked down at the floor with half-closed eyes. This did not surprise me. I knew her moods. I had learned that when she went into one of her silences, it was not only futile but unwise to try to elicit the faintest response, either of voice or gesture. But I had also learned that she could listen at such times, and that if I did not pester her with questions, she might even follow my argument.

"Your Majesty has told me of a young maid of honor who was sent without father or mother across the water to serve in a strange land. And about what happened to her when she was courted by a handsome prince who professed only honorable intentions."

I then had the boldness to relate to the Queen the story of her own mother. It was a daring proceeding, but I was in a desperate situation. I recited, as if I were reading from a book, how the young Anne Hyde had been sent to Holland to be a maid of honor to the Princess Royal of England, newly married to the Prince of Orange, and how she had there been wooed by the Princess's brother, James, Duke of York, who, like her other brother, the still unrestored King Charles, had found time heavy in exile and pretty maids of honor a pleasant distraction.

The Queen did not so much as nod or stir as I went through the whole sorry tale of her mother's seduction, the secret marriage that had followed the discovery of her pregnancy, the fury of Lord Clarendon, more loyal to the crown than to his own progeny, who had implored Charles II, now back on his throne, to annul the marriage and fling his daughter in the Tower, and, finally, the benign mercy of the King, who had insisted that his backsliding brother should publicly re-wed the mother of his child and make her officially Duchess of York.

"All I have ventured to hope is that Your Majesty might show some of the same compassion that filled the breast of her royal uncle. I have always believed that Your Majesty resembled him more than she did the other Stuarts." I was being obvious in my flattery, for it was known that the Queen liked to have attributed to herself any part of the famed charm and wit of Charles II, but I had to take the risk. "It was perhaps because King Charles had himself prevailed over so many of our sex that he had learned to tolerate our frailty."

"Which my father never did!" the Queen exclaimed suddenly, and I was at once silent. She went on now, in a reflective monotone:

"And yet he had as many mistresses as my uncle. But my father's were always ugly. Uncle Charles used to say that he must have chosen them as a penance. Oh, Hill, I fear my father was a hard man! I used to be appalled at the tortures that he allowed the Scots to inflict on their dissenters, when we lived in the north. And as for the horrors that followed the suppression of poor Monmouth's rebellion ... well, they were beyond words. Some people think it must be great to be a queen, but I think you, Hill, have a sense of what pain and soreness it can bring. Why did they want my father to marry a princess and not a commoner? I'll tell you why! Because if a monarch is not to be bowed to the ground with the sadness of his task—all the horrible wars, like this one we're now in, and all the bloody executions—he must have royal blood, which means coldness to human agony. Yes, it is true! It is my Hyde blood that is my undoing, that makes me wring my hands over the war and the woes of man, like Uncle Charles, whom people so carelessly called the 'merry monarch.'" The Queen paused now and then announced suddenly: "We will see Mr. Masham, Hill. Send for him."

"Right now, ma'am?"

"Right now. You need a husband, my girl!"

When Masham had been summoned, and he and I were standing together before the Queen's chair, I had to admire his composure. As I had no idea what tack my mistress would take, he could not have, either. And yet he had the confidence to contemplate majesty with smiling eyes!

"Hill has informed me of her condition, Mr. Masham," the Queen began gravely. "It is not one in which I care to find the women of my bedchamber. Are you prepared to do the honorable thing?"

"With the greatest of pleasure, ma'am! And may I express my deepest regret that the fruit of our mutual ardor, if I may take the liberty of putting it so, should have caused any concern to Your Majesty's peace of mind?"

I found this both vulgar and impudent, but the Queen did not seem to mind. "All's well that ends well, Mr. Masham," she said complacently. "The ceremony had better be secret so that gossips will not be able to calculate the months. We shall attend as witness."

I fell upon my knees. Masham merely bowed low.

"May I inquire, ma'am, if Mr. Harley has spoken in my behalf?" he asked.

"He has." Masham did not know the meaning of those lowered eyelids, or he would not have persisted.

"And has Your Majesty seen fit to consider his petition with any favor?"

"No, Mr. Masham, I have not. Your conduct to Mrs. Hill may be deemed a fault that marriage will rectify. There is no occasion for reward, beyond the happy possession of a worthy spouse."

Masham's smile became even brighter. "Perhaps Your Majesty has not been apprised of my circumstances. I am in no position, alas, to afford a wife."

"You should have considered that before you became so intimate with Mrs. Hill, sir. Future promotion will depend on how you treat her."

"And if I decline the honor, ma'am?"

"Then I am afraid we shall be deprived of the pleasure of seeing you at court. There are islands, however, in the New World where my officers can usefully serve."

Could the great Queen Elizabeth have put it better? Masham, to do him justice, took his licking like a man.

"Your Majesty's favor is all the dowry I shall need," he said, with another deep bow. "May we have Your Majesty's permission to marry tomorrow? If it will not inconvenience Your Majesty to attend a ceremony at so short a notice?"

"That will do very well, Mr. Masham. We observe that you are a man of good sense. So you may profit by one more piece of good counsel. We do not wish to see lugubrious countenances in our presence. If Mrs. Hill's mood is a happy one, your fortunes will prosper. You have a vested interest in the contentedness of your spouse, sir!"

The royal nod indicated that the audience was over, and Masham could only bow and depart. His sharp quick glance at me indicated that I was to accompany him, but I decided that the time had come to make abundantly clear to my future life companion just where my first duty lay and would continue to lie. I remained with my mistress.

***

When I went the next morning to Harley's apartments I found my "betrothed" there before me. He took not the slightest notice of me as I entered, but continued to pace up and down the chamber as he excitedly talked. Harley, relaxed and bald, without his wig, was sitting by the fire, puffing at his long clay pipe and smiling in the amiable fashion with which he was wont to meet the troubles of others. He silently waved a hand toward the chair that I should take, as if I were a latecomer to an amusing play.