The Three Crowns: The Story of William a - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,29

explained. “It is a sad fact that many are born not to reach manhood or womanhood. But we must be good to each other, my little daughter, for you and Anne are all I have to love now.”

She looked steadfastly into his face and thought of the rumors she had heard. “The Duke of York, like his brother, is a great lover of all women.” Whispers. Laughter. There were many women, according to what she had heard. Then how could she and Anne be the only ones he had to love?

“You have been hearing talk of me,” he said, and she felt the blood hot in her cheeks. Now he was going to tell her something shameful, something that she believed she would rather not hear.

“You have heard that I have been ill. It’s true I believe that I was going into a decline; but my health has improved, dearest Mary. I shall be with you for a long time yet.”

Her relief was evident. So he was referring to his ill health not that vaguely mysterious shameful life. He saw it and misconstrued the feeling which prompted it; his eyes became very tender.

“My dear little one,” he said, “it is your love which makes life bearable for me.” He stroked her hair. Then he said: “Mary, have you thought what Edgar’s death means?”

“That we shall never see him again.”

“Something besides. If the King has no children and when he and I are dead, it will be your turn.”

She looked alarmed and he said: “Oh, that is for the years ahead, but your uncle and I will not live forever. And then, Mary, you could be Queen of England, for I shall never marry again.”

She was very grave and he kissed her gently and said: “Do not be unhappy, dear child. We will not talk of the far, far distant future. Here is the present. We have lost dear ones, but let us remember that we have each other.”

Elizabeth Villiers came into the schoolroom to find Mary there alone. Mary picked up a book and prepared to leave.

Elizabeth was defiant. She had been foolish but she was not going to admit it, for she knew Mary would always consider her an enemy.

“I suppose,” said Elizabeth, “that you are thinking now Edgar is dead you will be Queen of England. That will never be.”

“You seem to know so much. Does His Majesty ask you to share his counsels?”

“You never will be Queen. Your father will marry again.”

“He will never marry again.”

Elizabeth laughed and Mary turned away. But Elizabeth’s words stayed in her mind.

Charles was well content. He had a new mistress whom he adored in Louise de Kéroualle, the girl who had come to England to comfort him after the loss of his sister; she it was whom he had seen in Minette’s suite and coveted; he guessed of course that Louis had sent her to spy on him, but she was so desirable and the very fact that she was probably working for Louis added a piquancy to her charm. Charles was sure of his ability to look after himself as far as both Louis and Louise were concerned. There had as yet been no occasion to proclaim his faith to his country and he told himself sardonically that there might well never be—and he was receiving the installments of his pension from the King of France. A very satisfactory state of affairs.

A year had passed since the death of the Duchess of York and James was beginning to feel the need of domesticity. Often he thought tenderly of his late wife, recalling all the joys of the conjugal life and forgetting its restrictions. He was, he decided, not a man to live alone. Those days at Richmond, when he had believed himself to be going into a decline, and had lived quietly with his sick wife, their children about them, had been the happiest of his life. He forgot his infidelities, Anne’s jealousy, the scandals and trials. Looking back he saw them all about a great open fireplace playing games such as “I love my love with an A.” How proud he had been of Mary’s quickness, how indulgent of young Anne’s inability to find the right word! How he had prompted little Edgar! Oh, happy days! But how could he enjoy more like them without a wife?

He had soon deceived himself into the belief that his had been the happiest marriage in the world. And the reason? He had