the letters, sent for Covell.
There was nothing brave about Covell, and William in a cold rage could be intimidating.
“Do you admit that you have been plotting against me?” demanded William.
Dr. Covell, seeing that he could not deny it considering William was holding his letter in his hand, confessed that this was so. He told him that he was acting on instructions from Skelton, who had received his orders from Whitehall.
“Get out,” said William.
When he had gone he sent for Mary.
She came in fear. He studied her coldly for some seconds before speaking.
Then he said: “I can only believe that you are so stupid that you do not understand you have been the victim of a conspiracy.”
“I … William?”
Now she was like the Mary he knew, meek and frightened of him.
“Yes, you. Your father has decided to marry you to a Papist.”
She gasped in horror. “But I am married to you, William.”
“He does not intend you to remain so.”
“But how could I …?”
He lifted a hand to silence her. “You have been very weak. You have listened to gossip and believed the worst of me. In so doing you have played into their hands. Your father is a ruthless man. Have you forgotten Monmouth and the Bloody Assizes? Your father is to blame for those tragedies, and now he wants to add another to their number.”
“He has had to defend his crown, William.”
“So you make excuses for him?”
“He is my father.”
“I wonder you are not ashamed to call him so.”
“I know that he is mistaken so often in what he does. But it is true, William, that Elizabeth Villiers is your mistress.”
A quiver of alarm touched him. That vein of strength in her was apt to appear when he believed he had subdued her, to make him never quite sure of her.
He felt a stirring of panic and said quickly: “She is nothing to me.”
“William!”
“But …”
He would not let her speak, lest she ask questions he could not parry. He had heard the note of joy in her voice. She wanted Elizabeth Villiers to be of no importance to him. She was willing to meet him halfway.
“Why,” he said, “have you forgotten that you are my wife?”
“I feared you had forgotten it, William.”
“It is something I could never forget.” That was true enough. Was she not the heir to the three crowns he coveted? “So let us be sensible, Mary.”
“Yes, William.”
“This affair … it was nothing. It meant little to me.”
“And it is over?”
“I will never forget that you are my wife. Our marriage is important … to us … to Holland … to England. We have our duty. Let us never forget that.”
“No, William.”
He put his hands on her shouders and gave her his wintry smile. He saw the tears in her eyes and knew that he had won.
When she had gone he sent for Covell, Anne Trelawny, and the Langfords.
“You should begin your preparations,” he said. “You leave for England tomorrow.”
Then he sat down and wrote to Laurence Hyde—the King’s brother-in-law—and asked that Skelton be recalled and another envoy sent to Holland in his place.
Mary was saddened by the loss of her dear friends. She had particularly loved Anne Trelawny and when she remembered how they had been allies in the days of Elizabeth Villiers’s ascendancy in the nursery she felt her departure the more.
For it was useless to pretend Elizabeth was not William’s mistress. William had said that the affair was of little importance, but he continued it. Elizabeth Villiers seemed slyer and more smug than ever; and now that Mary had been forced to face the truth she could not get it out of her mind.
Why should she endure this? When William was absent she felt very bold; it was only when he was with her that she told herself she must reconcile herself to her fate.
William had left The Hague for a short visit inland on official business—actually so this time, for Elizabeth Villiers remained in the palace.
Why should I stand aside while they conduct this intrigue under the very same roof? Mary asked herself. They think that I acted as I did because Anne Trelawny and Mrs. Langford advised me to. They think I have no will of my own.
They were wrong. Although she longed for ideal relationships, for peace between her father and her husband, she was not afraid to assert her will when she thought it necessary to do so; she would show them this.
She sent for Elizabeth Villiers.
Elizabeth stood before her—sly, always