The Three Crowns: The Story of William a - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,3
it was the coming of a new Queen to England—a wife for their merry King, who, they believed, would soon give them the boy who would be heir to the throne.
It seemed in that light that little Mary’s birth was of no great significance to any but her loving parents.
THE FAMILY OF YORK
In the nursery of their grandfather’s Twickenham mansion the two little girls of the Duke and Duchess of York played contentedly together. Three-year-old Mary and one-year-old Anne were completely ignorant of the reason why they had been sent to Twickenham; they did not know that the capital of their uncle’s kingdom was becoming more and more deserted every day, that the shops of the merchants were gradually closing, that people walked hastily through the narrow streets, their mouths covered that they might not breathe the pestilential air, their eyes averted from those tragic doors on which red crosses were marked. They did not know that the King and the Court had left the capital and by night the death cart patrolled the streets to the cry of “Bring out your dead.”
They were, Mary told Anne, in Grandpapa Clarendon’s house because it was in the country which was better than being in the town.
Anne listened, smiling placidly, not caring where she was as long as there was plenty to eat.
Mary watched her cramming the sweetmeats into her little round mouth, her fat fingers searching for the next before the last was finished.
“Greedy little sister,” said Mary affectionately.
Mary had felt conscious of being the elder sister ever since she had stood sponsor for Anne at the latter’s baptism. That occasion had been the most important of her life so far and remained her most vivid experience. Her father had impressed upon her the significance of her role and she had stood very solemnly beside her fellow sponsor, the young wife of the Duke of Monmouth, determined then that she would always look after Anne.
Looking after Anne was easy, for there was nothing Anne liked so much as being looked after. Everything Mary possessed she wanted to share with Anne. She had told her sister that she might hold her little black rabbit, stroke its fur, even call it her rabbit if she wished. Anne smiled her placid smile; but in fact she would rather have a share of Mary’s sweetmeats than her toys and pets.
Mary thought Anne the prettiest little girl in the kingdom, with her light brown hair falling about her bright pink face, and her round mouth and plump little hands. She herself was darker, less plump and more serious. Having to look after Anne had made her so.
Two of the nursery women stood in a corner watching them.
“Where would you find a prettier pair in the whole of England?” one demanded of the other.
“It’s small wonder that their parents dote on them.”
“Mary is the Duke’s favorite.”
“And Anne the Duchess’s.”
“Often I’ve seen my lady Duchess take the pretty creature on to her lap and feed her with chocolates. It’s easy to see from where the little lady Anne gets her sweet tooth.”
The two women put their heads closer together. “My lady Duchess is become so fat. If she does not take care …”
The other nodded. “The Duke will look elsewhere? He does that already, but never seriously. She leads him by the nose.”
“She’s clever, I’ll admit that. It surprises me that she gives way to her love of eating. Did you see the new traveling costumes they were wearing when they left London? The Queen looked well enough in hers … but you should have seen my lady Castlemaine. She was magnificent! Velvet coat and cap … like a man’s … and yet unlike and somehow being more like a woman’s garb for being so like a man’s. Most becoming. But our Duchess! I heard some of them sniggering behind their hands. More like a barrel than a Duchess they were saying.”
The other said: “I wonder when the Court will return to London?”
They were both sober.
“I hear it grows worse. They say that now grass grows between the cobbles.”
They looked at each other and shivered.
Then one said solemnly: “We are fortunate to be here in the country.”
“It’s a little too near London to please me, for they say it is spreading.”
“Where will it end? Do you believe it is because God is angry with the King’s way of life?”
“Hush your mouth. It won’t do to say such things.”
“Well, married three years and no sign of an heir and