The Three Crowns: The Story of William a - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,127
don’t believe us,” said Mrs. Langford sadly.
Anne, that dear friend whom she knew had always loved her since their childhood, was bolder. “Your Highness does not want to believe,” she said, “and that is why you will not put us to the test.”
“Put you to the test?”
“Yes. Make sure that we are speaking the truth.”
“How?”
“He goes to her apartment almost every night. You could wait for him to leave it.”
She shook her head.
But she went on thinking about William and Elizabeth. She pictured him, slyly mounting the stairs to the maid of honor’s room, opening the door, Elizabeth waiting … the embrace. Sly Elizabeth! Cold William! What was this attraction between them? Were they laughing at her for being so simple that she had not discovered their deceit?
The card game was over. Mary said that she was tired and would retire to her room.
She smiled at the Prince, who although he did not play cards, had joined the assembly.
“You are looking tired,” she told him. “Could you not desert your work for one night and retire early?”
He looked at her coldly and replied that urgent dispatches were awaiting his attention.
“You work too hard,” she said, smiling fondly, and bade him goodnight.
Her ladies prepared her for bed and she dismissed them all except Anne Trelawny and Mrs. Langford. Then Anne brought a robe and wrapped it about her.
“It may well be that you will have to wait a long time at the foot of the privy stairs to the maids of honors’ apartments,” she said.
“I shall wait,” said Mary firmly.
They made her comfortable there.
They knew that he was visiting Elizabeth Villiers that night because Mrs. Langford’s son had been set to wait behind the hangings and he had seen him go to her.
Only Mary’s anger saved her from tears.
They had successfully convinced her that she had allowed herself to become an object of pity since, it seemed, all knew of the adulterous intrigue except herself.
William looked down at Elizabeth who yawned sleepily as she smiled up at him. She implied that she was utterly contented.
He felt rejuvenated, as he always did after these occasions. She attracted him as no other woman ever could. He did not know exactly what it was; she was knowledgeable, dignified, and without a trace of humility, which surprised him for he had always thought that docility was what he would ask in a woman, but she was so eager to be all that he wanted, he was deeply aware of that and it flattered him. She kept in step with him on state affairs and he guessed that must have been a great task; she was not afraid to offer an opinion. She was sensual but never over demanding; she seemed to be able to assess his strength to the smallest degree. She had made him her life, and she flattered him without seeming to do so. He would not have known what he wanted of a woman until he met Elizabeth and she had shown him.
He could never break with her, however much the intrigue worried his Calvinistic soul. He told himself that she was a necessity to him. She supplied the recreation he needed; with his frail body and active mind, he needed that relaxation and only she could give it. That was his excuse; and he would scheme and lie to keep her.
Sleek as a satisfied cat she watched him, delighted with the part she was called upon to play. The power behind the throne! She could not have asked for a more exciting role. She was no longer jealous of foolish sentimental Mary as she had been in the nursery days and she could always hug herself with delight to consider their positions now.
William shut the door gently and cautiously descended the privy stairs.
As he reached the last step a figure rose before him. He stared, unable to believe in those first seconds that it was his wife.
“Yes,” she said. “It is I.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you to finish dealing with those … state papers. I did not know that you kept them in Elizabeth Villiers’s bedchamber.”
“This is most unseemly.”
“I agree. The Prince of Orange tiptoeing from his mistress’s bedroom!”
“I do not wish to hear another word about this.”
“I do not suppose you do. But I wish to speak of it.”
“You are behaving even more foolishly than usual.”