The Three Crowns: The Story of William a - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,85
for the most distressing calamity was about to fall upon her.
The King sent for his niece. Lady Frances Villiers was anxious because Mary was in no condition for such an occasion; hours of weeping had made her eyes red and swollen.
She was dazed as she was helped to dress. Elizabeth Villiers watched her in silence. What a child she was! thought Elizabeth. Hadn’t she considered that a girl in her position would be forced into marriage at an early age, and that all these matters were arranged for such as she was. Those like Elizabeth had to look out for themselves. How different she would have felt if a brilliant marriage were being arranged for her! Mary had always been a simpleton.
“My dear lady Mary,” mourned Lady Frances, “you look so wretched.”
Mary’s lower lip trembled and for a moment it seemed as though she would burst into further tears. “I am … wretched,” she stammered.
“You must not look like that or the King will be displeased.”
“I don’t think he will. I think he will understand.”
“Come,” said Lady Frances catching at a stool to steady herself, for her limbs felt as though they did not belong to her today. “You must not keep His Majesty waiting.”
Listlessly, Mary allowed herself to be conducted through the corridors of Whitehall to the royal closet. Those who accompanied her, Elizabeth Villiers among them, waited outside.
When Charles came into the closet his smile was kind.
“Why,” he said, “this is an important occasion for my little niece. But I no longer regard you as my niece, Mary my dear. From now on you are my daughter.”
Mary knew that she should have expressed gratitude for these gracious sentiments but when she opened her mouth to speak, her sobs prevented her.
Charles patted her shoulder, as the door of the closet was thrown open and William was brought in.
“Ah, nephew, you are indeed welcome,” said the King. “Now it is not good for man to live alone, so the Scriptures tell us, and even kings should not argue with them. Therefore I have a helpmate for you.”
The Princess Mary was brought forward and stood before her cousin, her eyes downcast, her mouth sullen.
William looked at her in astonishment. This was not the same girl who had talked animatedly to him at their last meeting. She was scarcely recognizable. Her lovely eyes were almost hidden by her swollen lids; her expression was forlorn, even sullen. He could not understand what had brought about the change.
“You two will be well matched, I doubt not,” said the King. “And remember this, nephew, love and war do not agree well together.”
The King turned to his brother. “The Duke wishes to give his consent to the marriage.” He nodded to James who murmured that he was willing to give his daughter into the care of the Prince of Orange.
“Then all is well,” said the King. “I doubt not that our lovers will wish to be together. They will have much to say to one another.”
He signed to Lady Frances to stay with them and all the others left the closet.
William’s puzzled gaze was on his bride-to-be.
He said: “Something has displeased you?”
“Yes.”
“There is something you want and cannot have?”
“Yes.”
“And you have been weeping because of this?”
She nodded and turned her head away.
“You were different at our last meeting.”
“I did not know then that I should be forced to marry you.”
He drew back as though her words were a lash which had cut into his flesh. He could not believe that he had heard her correctly.
There was a short silence; then the Lady Frances began to remonstrate with the Princess.
“You should remember to whom you speak, my lady.”
“I do not forget. I do not want to marry.”
The Prince was looking haughtily at Lady Frances, who said hastily: “Your Highness, you must understand that the Princess is very young. She had no notion that she was to be married and the idea has shocked her a little, but she will recover from the shock and realize her good fortune.”
“Good fortune!” cried Mary bitterly.
Lady Frances looked imploringly at the Prince. “Have I your permission to take the Princess to her apartments?”
The Prince inclined his head; and Lady Frances, greatly relieved, took Mary by the arm and led her away.
William looked after them; his cold expression was in contrast to the fierce anger which was burning in him. How dared she! Those red eyes, those sullen looks were there because she was to marry him! When he had last seen