The Three Crowns epub (10 page)

She took Mary’s hand and bade her sit on the bed so that they could be close.

“You are the eldest of the family,” she said. “Always remember that.”

“Yes, mother.”

“There is one thing I want you always to do for me. Look after Anne.”

“But …”

“I know you are thinking that you are only a little girl and that you have your father and me, but I am thinking of the future when we may not be here.”

Mary’s face puckered. “You are going away?”

“No, my dearest child, not now. I am thinking of the time ahead when perhaps it will be necessary for you to be a mother to your little sister and brother. You will, won’t you?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Come and kiss me. It will seal our bargain.”

Mary hid her repulsion and solemnly kissed her mother.

Elizabeth Villiers saw
Mary leaving her mother’s apartment. She looked at her slyly as though to suggest that she knew what had taken place. How could she? Mary asked herself. But she was beginning to believe that Elizabeth Villiers knew a great deal.

When they were alone together Elizabeth whispered: “Are you going to be one?”

Mary did not understand.

“It won’t be allowed,” Elizabeth went on virtuously. “We won’t let you … even if you want to.”

“I don’t understand you?”

Elizabeth put her lips close to Mary’s ear. “Your mother’s one. They are all saying so. They’re wicked. They all go to hell. That’s where your mother’s going.”

Mary was horrified. Had her mother not suggested that she was going away?

“Yes,” said Elizabeth, “they frizzle like a sheep on the spit. The good angels turn them round to make sure they get thoroughly brown on all sides. That’s what happens in hell and
they
all go there.”

“You’re … hateful.”

“Because I tell you the truth?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you know anything?”

“Yes,” said Mary, “I know I hate you.”

“You mustn’t hate. You go to hell for hating.” Elizabeth made the movement of turning a sheep on a spit and there was an ecstatic light in her eyes.

“Stop it,” said Mary.

“That doesn’t stop. It goes on for eternity, and you know that means forever and ever … amen.”

Mary turned to go but Elizabeth caught her arm. “We won’t have Catholics here,” she said. “Your mother’s one. She tries to hide it but everybody … except you … knows it.”

Mary wrenched her arm free of her tormentor, and as she ran from her, heard Elizabeth’s taunting laughter.

She was puzzled and uneasy.

The King had
heard the rumors of his sister-in-law’s conversion and guessed that James was following her lead; he himself favored the Catholic faith and would have proclaimed this fact but for the memory of those early wanderings of his. He was more realistic than James and understood the temper of the people better than his brother. James was a sentimentalist; Charles was never that.

Charles hated intolerance and he would have liked to bring some relief to his Catholic subjects. It would give him a great deal of pleasure to reunite England with Rome—providing of course the changeover would not bring about trouble, which was the last thing he wanted. But he was a King and a Stuart and in spite of his good nature and love of peace there was in him an innate belief in the Divine Right of Kings. Why be a King if one must be governed by a Parliament? How tedious constantly to be told that he could not have this or that grant of money! And he was a man who always had a demanding mistress at his elbow.

Every Stuart would be haunted throughout his life by the martyred King Charles I. They would always remember how, being in conflict with his Parliament, he had lost his head. No Stuart should ever run afoul of his Parliament, and yet how could he but help it?

The nation was behind him, and he was convinced that the people would never allow the head of the second Charles to roll, for his father—with all his nobility and virtuous ways—had never appealed to his subjects as his merry son had done.

Could he take a chance?

How many chances had he taken during the days of exile—and after? It was second nature to take chances.

He needed money—desperately; and the Parliament would not grant it to him, so his eyes were on France. His sister—his beloved Minette, the favorite of all his sisters, who was married to the brother of Louis XIV—had been in secret correspondence with him. Minette had assured him of Louis’s good will toward him; she had made him see that a French alliance was imperative. Imperative to the King or to the country?

“The King
is
the country,” said Charles to himself with a cynical smile.

Sir William Temple had formed an alliance with Sweden; but negotiations were going on with Spain at the same time—and of course France.

Colbert de Croissy, the French ambassador, had proposals to put before him; he brought letters from Minette; Louis was ready to pay the King of England handsomely for his cooperation, but it was an alliance which, for the time being, must be kept secret even from the King’s ministers.

What Louis wanted was alliance with England, and he would feel happier if this alliance were with a Catholic England. The King of England was half French; his mother had been a Catholic and it was natural that he should lean toward her religion. The King would be willing enough; but England was a Protestant country and the people would not easily be led to the Church of Rome. Still, a King could do much.

Charles knew that Louis wanted England to join forces with him for an invasion of Holland, and Charles to make public his conversion to the Roman Catholic Faith; he wanted the Church of England abolished and England to return to Rome. For these concessions he was ready to make Charles his pensioner, and was ready to supply men and arms should the English reject the Catholic faith.

Minette would soon arrive in England to persuade her brother, for Louis knew that Charles found it difficult to refuse the women he loved what they asked; and without doubt he loved his sister, perhaps more deeply—certainly more permanently—than any other woman.

So much desperately needed money, mused Charles, and all for a Mass.

He sent for James, for this was a point wherein they would be in sympathy, and as his brother came into his apartment Charles was struck by his pallor.

“You are not looking well, brother,” he said. “I trust naught ails you?”

“I was never the same since I threw off the pox, and since the boy went …”

Charles nodded. “And I hear sad news of my good sister Anne.”

“She spends most of her time at Richmond with the children now.”

“And on her knees, I hear.”

James looked at his brother sharply.

“Ah,” went on Charles, “it is unlikely that I should not be informed on such a matter. So the Duchess has now completely gone over to Rome?”

“She has not openly confessed to doing so.”

“Our lives are an open secret, brother. And you? You are still toying with the faith, I hear. Nay, do not look startled. I myself am in like case.”

James’s eyes shone with hope. “Then I am right pleased,” he said.

“You should more reasonably be disturbed. What think you the people of this realm will say to Catholic monarchs?”

“This is the true faith. We must stand by what is right.”

Charles raised his black eyebrows and smiled sardonically at his brother. “Nay, James,” he said. “This is a matter we take with caution. You should tread more warily. I am warning you. The Duchess goes her way; but is it for you, the heir presumptive to the Crown, lightly to follow?”

“It is not a matter of following,” cried James hotly. “It is a matter of seeing the truth.”

“The truth, brother, could be that, when your turn came, the people would have none of you.”

“Then … for the sake of what I believe to be the truth …”

“You would cast aside the Crown? It is not always so easy, brother. Men and women do not take this matter of worship lightly. They do not say I will do it this way and you that. No, they say my way must be your way.”

“The Catholic faith I am convinced is the true way.”

“Others have been convinced before you, James. And where has it led? Look back over the past. Weigh the blood which has been shed in the name of religion. You could not. It is too vast, brother, and there are no measures great enough. I should not care to see bloodshed in this country, and two brothers sent on their travels again.”

“What then, Charles?”

“I am warning you. Do what you must do in secret, ’tis better so … as yet. And warn the Duchess.”

“She is ill, Charles; to her the most important thing in this life is her leaving of it.”

“Brother, it may well be that before long I shall confess myself to be of our mother’s faith. It may be that under my rule England will return to Rome.”

James’s eyes were shining. “A glorious day for England!”

“So say you? And who else James, who else? How many of my now loyal subjects would, on that day, rise up against me. The English are a lazy people, James. They shrug aside what would make a civil war elsewhere; but when their rights are touched on, when they make up their minds to take a stand, they stand firmly … more firmly than any other people in the world. That is what we have to remember—unless we are prepared to gamble.”

“You were always a gambler.”

“But like all good gamblers I don’t take a risk until I see the chances of a win to be in my favor.”

“And so …”

“This is a secret, James. Our sister will shortly be coming to England. My sweet Minette, how I long to see her! It is so long since I have done so. She will be Louis’s ambassadress. Even my closest ministers will not know what the treaty contains.”

“And you will sign this treaty?”

“I shall think on it, James.”

“You need to turn to the truth, Charles … you need this fervently.”

“I need money even more,” answered Charles lightly.

Charles and James
were more friendly than they had been for a long time. The plans which the King was considering and which were known to his brother brought them close together; but the fact of their sympathies in religion was an even closer bond.