The Three Crowns epub (29 page)

William entered the
small chamber which seemed to be full of extravagantly clad men, laughing gaily and drinking. He looked about him anxiously and saw with relief that there were no women present. He did not know what to expect, but knowing the morals of this court greatly feared he might have been invited to an orgy for the sexes. The thought of this had filled him with terror; and yet at the same time had awakened thoughts in him of which he would not have believed himself capable. He had begun to ask himself whether if he had not such a destiny to fulfill he might not have enjoyed a little dalliance with women. And might it not be part of a great soldier’s life to indulge in amatory adventures? Women to admire him, to tell him that he was the most attractive man in the world, that men such as his uncle were tolerated for their rank while he …

But what was happening to him since he had come to the English Court? Did he not despise these men with their effeminate lacy garments, and to whom the whole meaning of life seemed to be the seduction of women?

Buckingham was greeting him with more reverence than he had shown in the garden and in the presence of the King.

“Your Highness, our little gathering is honored indeed.”

Others were crowding round him, and he recognized them as some of the biggest rakes and libertines of his uncle’s court: Rochester, Dorset, Charles Sedley, and Henry Savile. His nose twitched in disdain as he remembered some of the almost incredible stories he had heard of their exploits. Nothing, it seemed, was too wild for them. Theirs was no company in which the Prince of Orange should find himself. He should never have accepted Buckingham’s invitation.

“We are greatly favored,” murmured Rochester.

“My lords,” replied Sedley, “we must have such sport this night as we have not had since those days when His Majesty first returned to his kingdom.”

“I am not much given to sport,” said William dourly.

“We have heard reports of Your Highness’s decorum,” Savile murmured. “A lesson to us all.”

“We shall all be better men from this night onward,” declared Buckingham, “for it is our great desire to learn from you how a gentleman can restrain his fancies.”

“I do not understand,” began William.

“Will Your Highness be seated and allow us to sit with you?”

“Certainly.”

William sat down and Buckingham cried, “Wine … wine for His Highness.”

“Not wine for me. I drink little and then only when thirsty. Perhaps a little ale?”

“Or Hollands Gin?” suggested Buckingham. “A right goodly drink, I’ll swear. Shall we drink to the future prosperity of the House of Orange in Hollands Gin?”

“His Highness must certainly drink to the friendship between our two countries,” said Sedley. “And it is the custom here that if we drink in his country’s drink, he drinks in ours.”

“I have told you that I take little drink.”

“For a custom, Your Highness.”

William felt uneasy; he looked into that circle of faces aware that all eyes were on him. He fancied they were laughing at him, at his lack of worldliness, at his inability to drink as they and most certainly at his meager body—they who apparently worshipped their bodies, decking them out in silks and satins, indulging their appetites.

“For a custom then,” he said rashly.

“Done!” cried Buckingham.

They stood and raised their glasses. “Hurrah for Orange, Stadtholder of Holland!”

“Hurrah for Orange!”

There was a slight flush in William’s face; they were all smiling at him as though they were in truth his friends. They would help him to regain his rights. This was what he had dreamed of. Was it not for this that he had come to England?

The Duke of Buckingham was calling for more wine. Sparkling wine! Now they would drink to the friendship between their two countries.

“It is our custom, Your Highness, to drain the glass. To leave a little in the bottom is an insult.” He rose to his feet. “My friends, we are greatly honored tonight. Come, the toast! Our Sovereign Lord the King and his nephew the Prince of Orange—friends and kinsmen. May they never forget the bond between our two countries.”

William drained his glass. He felt a little light-headed, but Buckingham was at his side.

“Your Highness, this is a happy night for us all …”

Sedley had leaned forward and filled the Prince’s glass. “I see Your Highness is a man who knows how to hold his drink. Now I propose the toast. Victory for His Highness of Orange in all that he endeavors.”

William drained the glass.

He was beginning to feel pleasantly at ease. A warm glow had settled on him; he no longer believed that his companions were laughing at him. Far from it. He felt six feet tall, a man among men; they were his friends, his kind respectful friends. They wanted to please him, Buckingham was telling him. In fact it was the object of this party—in honor of the Prince, to please the Prince.

No one in Holland had ever accorded him such respect; and never had he felt quite as he did on this day.

He was lolling back in his chair. Buckingham was telling him how he had fought a duel with Shrewsbury. It seemed very funny, although William had, only that day when he had been regretting that he had accepted Buckingham’s invitation, recalled that incident with distaste.

Buckingham was talking of his mistresses—familiarly and again amusingly; and he spoke as though William were as knowledgeable in these matters as he was.

Sedley and Rochester joined in, capping each other’s stories. Every now and then one of them would stand and lift his glass, mention a woman’s name and they would all drink. The more William drank of the wine, the more he liked it; and the less sleepy he became. He heard someone laughing uproariously and to his amazement discovered that it was himself.

“His Highness is cleverer than any of us,” said Buckingham.

He liked that. The sense of power was with him. He was cleverer than any of them. He needed to be.

“So solemn. So serious. Ah, but what is he like in my lady’s bedchamber?”

William joined in the laughter.

“Oh, His Highness admits it among his friends.” Buckingham sighed. “Would that I had had the wit to hide my weakness. What a lot of trouble I should have been saved.”

“His Highness could teach us much.”

“Oh, depend upon it.”

“Did you see that pretty maid of honor. The new one. A ripe young virgin, I’ll swear. Not more than sixteen. Ha, I see His Highness is listening intently. I’ll warrant he has already marked her for his own?”

“Seen her, smiled on her! Then what is the betting she is a virgin no more?”

“I’ll take you up there, Sedley.”

“One hundred.”

“Make it two.”

“But how test the truth?”

“I’ll warrant His Highness will tell us how.”

Buckingham bent closer to William. “Your Highness,” he said, “we promised you good sport tonight.”

“Lead me to it,” said William in slurred voice.

The others exchanged glances. The plot was a wild success. Charles was going to laugh at this; and there was nothing that he liked so much as to be amused by the wild adventures of his roystering courtiers. And this one was going to please him more than most. He had said that William was like a eunuch and he often wondered whether those clever de Wittes hadn’t made him one just to make sure of the end of the House of Orange.

Buckingham had countered. “Would Your Majesty wager on the matter?”

“Right gladly,” the King had replied. “And to have it proved that my nephew was indeed a man would give me such pleasure that I’d be willing to be the loser.”

“All in good time. I can see Your Highness is a man who does not like to wait when the urge is on him,” Buckingham was telling William.

All the others were laughing; so was William. They knew him better than he knew himself. They were sure he was a success with women. He thought of Elizabeth Charlotte who had quite clearly wanted the marriage between them far more than he had. His dear friends knew more about him than he knew himself. He would be the greatest ruler in Europe—wise, shrewd, successful in all campaigns—yes, every one he undertook, on the battlefield or in the bedchamber.

“As His Highness is in no mood for waiting, let us be gone,” suggested Sedley.

Buckingham rose and put his fingers to his lips. The others did the same. Then William stood up and he too put his fingers to his lips.

The room reminded him of the ship on which he had crossed to England, so unsteady was the floor. He laughed aloud. He was so happy to be in England because the English understood him as no one in Holland ever had.

Buckingham took one of his arms, Rochester the other, and with exaggerated caution they left the apartment.

“They will be in bed now,” whispered Sedley.

“All the better,” retorted Rochester.

“All locked up securely for the night, chastity belts securely fastened, but His Highness the Prince of Orange will know the password. He will have the key.”

Such laughter—all the more hilarious because it must be suppressed. Buckingham put his fingers to his lips and they all did the same.

William felt the cool air on his face and this was the only intimation he had that he was out of doors. The fresh air revived him a little, made him feel as strong and brave as a lion.

He stood with the group looking at the row of lighted windows.

“How do we get in?” asked Rochester. “My Prince, pray tell us.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” said Buckingham. “Could it be through the windows?”

“Yes,” said William and his voice sounded muffled. “Through the windows.”

Sedley pressed a stone into his hands. “You will lead your men, Sire,” he said.

William had never felt so happy. He forgot that he was smaller than most men, that he suffered from that humiliating asthmatical wheeze, that his clothes had to be cut in a special way to hide his deformities.

He was a leader of men—and not in battles. These rakes of his uncle’s Court, who were noted for their brilliant wit and fascination were looking to him to lead them.

He threw the stone. Laughing triumphantly he scrambled up the wall to the broken window.

There were cries of alarm from within and faces appeared at the windows.

Buckingham’s voice came from a long way off: “His Highness of Orange … a little merry. Looking for the ladies.”