The Three Crowns: The Story of William a - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,91
sail on the sixteenth of November and as the fifteenth was Queen Catherine’s birthday the King had said there should be a ball which would celebrate his wife’s birthday and at the same time be a farewell to the Prince and Princess of Orange. Since the newly married pair would be leaving on the next day, they should retire early and say good-bye to all their friends at the ball.
Mary was dressed in the jewels which he had given her, but their luster only called attention to her wretched appearance. So much crying had made her eyes swollen and she could not disguise her misery.
Anne was desperately ill; Mary did not know when she would see Frances Apsley again; and the next day she would say good-bye to her family and leave with William.
If only Anne or Frances could have accompanied her she felt she could have borne her wretchedness more easily. Frances could not come because her father was ill; and who should be her attendants had been settled by the King and her father. The Villiers were well represented. Barbara Castlemaine had seen to that; so Elizabeth and her sister Anne were to be in the suite in addition to a cousin of theirs—Margaret Boyle, who was Lady Inchiquin. Lady Inchiquin, being married and more mature than the others, had been given the post of head of the maids; she it was who would keep them in order and pay their salaries. Mary was delighted that her friend, Anne Trelawny, was coming with her and that her nurse, Mrs. Langford, would be there too. She believed she could have been almost happy if she could have substituted Frances Apsley and her sister Anne for Elizabeth Villiers.
But here she was on what would very likely be the very last night she would spend with her family; and instead of throwing herself on to her bed and giving vent to her misery, she must go down, receive congratulations, and try to smile while she accepted good wishes.
She would not have believed a few months ago that life could change so much.
In the ballroom a glittering company was assembled.
The King smiled kindly at his niece and led her in the dance.
“Would I were King of the winds, Mary,” he said, “instead of merely of these Islands. Do you know what I would do? Send forth my commands and there would be such a gale that no one—not even the Prince of Orange—would dare set sail.”
“If that were possible,” she sighed.
He pressed her hand. “Troubles come and go,” he said. “There was a time when I thought I should never return to England … but I did.”
“Your Majesty was a King … and a man. I, alas, am only a woman.”
“Do not say ‘only,’ my dear niece. In my opinion women are the most delightful of God’s creations. I cannot command that wind, Mary, but I might pray for it. Though perhaps the prayers of sinners are never answered. What think you? Or is one more likely to receive blessings because one rarely asks for them?”
He was trying to amuse her; she loved him; but her sad smile told him there was only one way of relieving her misery and that was to free her from this marriage.
When the dance was over the King took her to her father who smiled at her with pride and told her that she looked beautiful.
“Such jewels,” he said. “They become you well.”
She shook her head and he, fearing that the tears would start again, said quickly: “The Duchess and I will visit you in Holland. Dear child, you are not going to the other end of the world.”
“Anne …” she began.
Anne. He thought of his beloved daughter who lay desperately ill and his expression darkened. To lose one daughter to Orange and the other to death would be unbearable.
“Anne shall come with us,” he said. “You will see, Mary, that we shall take the first opportunity.”
She nodded. “I shall wait for that day,” she assured him.
“And your stepmother sends her love to you. She wishes that she might be with you … to comfort you. She says that she knows how unhappy you are. And she calls you her dear little Lemon—because you are paired with an Orange.”
Mary smiled. “Pray tell her I love her … and the little boy.”
“The little boy is frail, Mary, but we believe he will live.”