It was a great joy to Mary to be able to weep in comfort.
Mary Beatrice said: “Our only happiness at this time is to be with our dear Lemon.”
“Is it true,” asked Mary anxiously, “that you have been turned out of England?”
“I fear so, Mary,” James confessed. “I have many enemies and do you know who is foremost among them? Monmouth.”
“Oh, no.” Mary shook her head. She would always be especially fond of Jemmy and although she knew he behaved shamefully now and then she had always tried to make excuses for him. She would never forget how he had come to Richmond and been so kind to her, teaching her to dance. She believed that the reason she danced so well—and dancing was one of her greatest pleasures—was due to Jemmy’s tuition.
“He goes about the country calling himself the Protestant Duke. He is always urging Charles to legitimize him and you know what that means.”
“The King loves him dearly.”
“The King can be foolish when he loves—as we have seen with Castlemaine and Portsmouth.”
“Most men can be foolish over their mistresses,” said Mary, glancing at her father.
“Monmouth has made everything so much more difficult. I have always had my enemies and they have prevailed upon my brother to send me out of England. It is a polite kind of exile.”
“The King was deeply moved when we left,” Mary Beatrice reminded him.
“Oh, yes, he did not want us to go. But he had to accept it. My only comfort during these days is in my family … my dear wife—my dear daughters, you, Mary, dear Anne, and little Isabella.”
Mary thought: And your mistresses—unless you have very much changed, which I greatly doubt.
And she wondered why she felt her sympathy for her father touched by criticism. Was she beginning to think a little like her husband?
“Father,” she said, “all your troubles are due to your religious beliefs.”
“Well, I shall not be the first to be victimized for that reason. Mary, while I am here I want to talk to you about religion.”
She stiffened. “I do not think it would be any use,” she said quickly. “I respect your views, father, but I have mine; and they are far removed from Rome.”
“Oh, you are becoming a little like your husband. Do not, I pray you, become a Calvinist.”
“I belong to the Church of England, Father, as I was taught from a child. It is a faith which suits me well and in which I believe.”
“Hooper has been instructing you, I’ll be bound. Here is a sad state of affairs—a father who is not allowed to have charge of his own daughters.” James shook his head and looked melancholy. “You were taken away from me when you were beginning to grow up. They were afraid I would influence you, I … your own father. Anne wanted to come with us, in fact was coming … but the people did not wish it. They feared that I … her father … might influence her, might turn her into a Catholic. That is the state your father is reduced to, Mary. Here you see him … an exile from his country.”
“It is very sad,” said Mary; and she thought: But if you were not a papist none of it would have happened. She was beginning to see through William’s eyes.
William could not hide his distaste for his father-in-law and James, aware of it, found his position becoming more and more uncomfortable. He was turned away from his home because he was not wanted there, and however much Charles expressed his regret he showed clearly that he was ready to accept the demands of his brother’s enemies. And so he had become a guest at his son-in-law’s Court—but not a welcome one.
One night he awoke in his apartments with griping pains, alarming Mary Beatrice as for some minutes he could do nothing but groan and press his hands against his stomach.
“What can it be?” cried Mary Beatrice fearfully. “I must call for help.”
But James shook his head. “We are here in a strange country, an enemy’s country. How do we know what that enemy plans against us?”
“James, you think William is trying to poison you!”
James groaned aloud. “My body tells me someone has.”
She was hastily scrambling out of bed, but he detained her.
“Wait awhile. I fancy the pain grows less. Perhaps they have not succeeded this time.”
“I cannot believe this of the Prince. Our dear Lemon would never allow it.”
“Do you think Mary has any say in