Girl on the Golden Coin: A Novel of Frances Stuart
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To Kevin,
Dalton, and Delani.
Without you, all is nothing.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Map of Europe, c. 1660
Dramatis Personae
Epigraph
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
England
Royal House of Stuart
King Charles I of England—Descendant of the Fourth High Steward of Scotland
Henrietta Maria de Bourbon of France—Married into the Stuart royal family as queen to Charles I
Their children:
King Charles II—The restored king, no legitimate heir
Catherine of Bragança—Queen to Charles II
James Stuart, Duke of York—Later crowned King James II of England
His wives:
Anne Hyde, first Duchess of York—Died before daughters Mary and Anne succeeded to the throne
Mary of Modena, second Duchess of York—Became queen when James became king, son denied succession to the throne
Princess Henriette Anne Stuart—Married into the French royal house of Bourbon as duchess to Philippe of France, Duc d’Orléans
Henry, Duke of Gloucester—Died just after the Restoration
Prince Rupert of the Rhine—Nephew to Charles I
The Blantyre Stuarts
Walter Stuart, First Lord Blantyre—Descendant of the Fourth High Steward of Scotland
Walter Stuart, Master of Blantyre—Nephew of Frances, recipient of Lennoxlove Estate
The Honorable Mr. Walter Stuart—Youngest son of the first Lord Blantyre, physician
Mrs. Sophia Stuart—His wife, of unknown parentage
Their children:
Frances Teresa Stuart—Queen Catherine’s maid of honor
Sophia Stuart—Married Henry Bulkely
Anne—Their daughter, wed Duke of Berwick, illegitimate son of James II
Walter Stuart—Served Lord Douglas’s regiment, volunteer on the Montague
The Lennox Stuarts
Charles Stuart, third Duke of Richmond and sixth Duke of Lennox— Descendant of the Fourth High Steward of Scotland, possessed numerous additional titles
His wives:
Elizabeth Rogers—Died after the Restoration, daughter died young
Margaret Banister—Died without children
Frances Stuart
His retainers:
Roger Payne—The steward
Lee—A footman
Ludovic, Seigneur d’Aubigny—The duke’s uncle
The Hamiltons
Elizabeth Hamilton—Maid of honor to Queen Catherine, wed the Chevalier de Gramont,
George Hamilton—Admirer of Frances Stuart, wed Frances Jennings
Anthony Hamilton—Author of the Gramont Memoirs
The Hydes
Henry Hyde, Earl of Clarendon—Lord chancellor to King Charles II
His children:
Anne Hyde—Married James, Duke of York of the Royal house of Stuart
Henry Hyde, Lord Cornbury—Lord Chamberlin to Queen Catherine
The Jermyns
Sir Thomas Jermyn—Nonresident governor of Jersey, father to Earl of St. Albans
Henry Jermyn, First Earl of St. Albans—Vice-chamberlain to Queen Henrietta Maria
Henry Jermyn the younger—Nephew of the Earl of St. Albans
The Villiers
George Villiers, first Duke of Buckingham—Reputed lover of James I and Charles I
His children:
Lady Mary Villiers—Sister to the second Duke of Buckingham
George Villiers, second Duke of Buckingham—Son of the first duke
Mary Fairfax, Duchess of Buckingham—The second duke’s wife
Barbara Villiers—Granddaughter to the older half brother of the first duke, wife of Roger Palmer, first official mistress to Charles II
Eleanor Villiers—Daughter of the first Duke of Buckingham’s half brother
Other Courtiers and Characters
Queen Catherine’s ladies:
Lady Sanderson—Mother of the maids of honor:
Katherine Boynton
Simona Cary
Mademoiselle La Garde
Jane Middleton
Helene Warmestry
Winifred Wells
Elizabeth Frasier—Queen Catherine’s dresser
Lady Mary Scroope—Queen Catherine’s dresser, mistress of Henry Bennet
Lady Mary Wood—Queen Catherine’s dresser
Maids of honor to Anne Hyde, Duchess of York:
Arabella Churchill—Mistress to James II, their son became Duke of Berwick
Frances Jennings—Married George Hamilton
Henry Bennet, later Lord Arlington—Secretary of state to Charles II
Earl of Carlingford—Irish peer
Earl of Chesterfield—Upbraided his countess after her affair with the Duke of York
Samuel Cooper—Miniaturist painter
Oliver Cromwell—Protector of the Commonwealth, death prompted the Restoration
Moll Davies—Actress
Nell Gwynn—Actress
Louise de Kéroüaille—Maid of honor to Duchesse d’Orléans; second offic
ial mistress to Charles II; their son is ancestor to Lady Diana Spencer, Princess of Wales
Sir William Killigrew—Vice-chamberlain to Queen Catherine, Member of Parliament
Elizabeth Mallett—Northern heiress, married John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester
Admiral Sir William Penn—Member of Parliament and admiral in the Royal Navy
William Penn—Son of Admiral Penn, founder of Pennsylvania
Samuel Pepys—Diarist and secretary to the Admiralty
John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester—Rake, kidnapped and later married Elizabeth Mallett
Roettier—Engraver to Charles II
Gilbert Sheldon—Bishop of London, Archbishop of Canterbury
Prudence Pope—Quaker maid fictionalized as daughter to historical figure Mr. Pope
Mary—Fictional Catholic maid given to Frances Stuart by the Queen Mother
Sir Isaac Newton—Scientist
France
The House of Bourbon
Henrietta Maria de Bourbon—Daughter of Henri IV of France and Marie de’ Medici, sister to Louis XIII, aunt of King Louis XIV, queen to Charles I of England
Anne of Austria—Married into the house of Bourbon as queen to Louis XIII of France
Her sons:
Louis XIV of France
Marie-Thérèse of Spain—First cousin and queen consort to Louis XIV; their great-grandson succeeded to the throne
Philippe of France
Henriette Anne Stuart—First cousin and duchess to Prince Philippe, Duc d’Orléans
De Gramonts
Philibert, Chevalier de Gramont—Married Elizabeth Hamilton
Guy Armand de Gramont, Comte de Guiche—Nephew of Philibert, Chevalier de Gramont
Other Courtiers and Characters
Nicolas Foquet—Superintendent of finances
Father Cyprien of Gamache—Capuchin friar serving Queen Henrietta Maria
Chevalier de Lorraine—Lover of the Duc d’Orléans
Lully—Composer
Cardinal Mazarin—Advisor to Anne of Austria, possible biological father of Louis XIV
Molière—Playwright
Françoise-Athénaïs de Rochechouart-Mortemart—Maid of honor to Queen Marie-Thérèse, later Marquise de Montespan, called Athénaïs, second maîtresse-en-titre to Louis XIV
Louise de La Vallière—Maid of honor to Henriette Anne, Duchesse d’Orléans, first maîtresse-en-titre to King Louis XIV
UPON THE GOLDEN MEDAL
Our guard upon the royal side!
On the reverse our beauty’s pride!
Here we discern the frown and smile,
The force and glory of our isle.
In the rich medal, both so like
Immortals stand, it seems antique;
Carved by some master, when the bold
Greeks made their Jove descend in gold,
And Danaë wond’ring at their shower,
Which falling, storm’d her brazen tower.
Britannia there, the fort in vain
Had batter’d been with golden rain;
Thunder itself had fail’d to pass;
Virtue’s a stronger guard than brass.
—Edmund Waller
PROLOGUE
Richmond House, Whitehall Palace London
July 1688
Fireworks from St. James’s Park lit the night sky as I stood outside my home, Richmond House, the finest at Whitehall Palace, and waited for one of my oldest friends. He was the Earl of Clarendon now that his father, the old lord chancellor of England, had died in exile. But I would always remember my friend as simply Lord Cornbury, one of the gallants in my reigning circle when Whitehall belonged to the Merry Monarch.
I glanced down at my niece, Anne, as she sat on the portico, studying the Britannia side of a copper farthing. She knew it was my image on that coin. She knew why, too. Light crackled and rained overhead, and chatter from my guests, who’d come to celebrate the birth of a newborn prince, carried from my bay windows. Anne flipped the coin over to the king’s profile. “Was it this exciting when King Charles the Second was restored to the throne?”
“You know I wasn’t in England then.”
“Tell me the story again.”
I knelt beside her so my skirts draped into a silk puddle around me and recited the tale she’d come to cherish. “I was about your age, ten years. Exiled English Royalists filed into the great hall of the Queen Mother’s French château to greet our king, who’d been forced to wander Europe since we’d lost the civil wars. I told my father I was hungry. He studied me with the sharp eye natural to a royal physician and said in his Scottish brogue, ‘Ye know there’s nothin’ to be had. But when the king is restored to ’is throne, it will change everythin’ for us.’
“‘What need have I for a king?’ I’d asked.
“‘You’ve Stuart blood in ye’r veins, lass. Ye’r fortune, if ye ever have any, will begin and end with the Stuart royals.’
“And when Charles the Second of England, Scotland, and Ireland filled the doorway, he was the tallest man I had ever seen. Behind me someone spoke, just loud enough for me to hear. ‘Let us see if we can fool him.’ A shove between my shoulders propelled me forward. ‘Your Majesty, here is your sister, Henriette Anne!’
“The hall fell silent. King Charles appeared before me on one knee, lifting my chin to catch my eye. I should have dipped a deep curtsy to show reverence. It was a subject’s duty. Everyone in the hall waited in silence to see if the king would fall for this little jest. Then he pulled me close and kissed me. Laughter. The room shook with it. The king glanced around, then back at me.
“He knew. The edges of my vision blackened. I had not curtsíed. What punishment might he dole out for such disrespect? He stood and then … laughed. I forgot my hunger that day. For the first time, I hoped he got his kingdom back for his own sake, not only for mine. Three years later, he did.” I stood at last, shaking out my silks and ending my story, though there was so much more to tell.
Anne sighed, content. “I want to have a life like yours. To become a duchess and provide for my family.”
God, please let her path be nothing like mine. “One must be clever to marry a duke.” She glared at me and I laughed. “I’m sure you will, someday.”
Then my friend appeared, trudging through the Bowling Green looking more strained than I’d ever seen him. Almost. He presented his leg and bowed low. “Your Grace.”
“You don’t seem in a celebratory mood.”
“Nor is London. Nobody believes King James really has a son. Rather, they don’t want to believe it.”
“They know this prince will be raised a Catholic, and they haven’t the stomach for another Catholic rule.”
“It’s just as our late king predicted. Men are already stirring up talk.” He hesitated, glanced at Anne.
“She’s trustworthy. Go on.”
“They want to depose King James. You’ll have to choose a side. I know you disagree with his policies, but it’s no small thing to side against a king.” He paused as he registered my expression. All our years of intrigue in the glittering court at Whitehall seemed to pass between us. “Though, when it comes to the courage to reject a king, you’ve proven that you have it.”
He was right in more ways than he could know. It was no small thing. Yet he only knew of one king I’d rejected.
CHAPTER 1
Palais Royal, Paris
March 1661
“Settle, Frances,” my mother whispered over her shoulder. “Don’t draw attention to yourself.”
Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans, who rarely deigned to look directly upon me, glanced in my general direction, seemingly displeased.
I was straining my eyes in the candlelight, searching the wedding guests in the gallery of the Palais Royal, seeking out one English duke in particular. Now I fell back on my heels and slouched. I had gotten a good look at the guests waiting for the royal couple to return from the chapel. The French nobles, in impeccable silks and jew
els, politely averted their eyes from the chipped murals of our dilapidated palace walls. No jewel hung from my neck, only a blue silk ribbon. A gift from my older cousin Princess Henriette Anne, it was the prettiest thing I owned. Members of the exiled English court, like me, wore sensible clothes, repurposed with outdated lace. Although we weren’t exiles anymore, now that King Charles had possession of his kingdom. Most of the members of our court had returned home—at least those who had something to return to. Our monarch had won his throne and restored place and power to as many Royalist families as he could, but my family had no prior claim on anything. My father was the third son of the first Lord Blantyre in Scotland. Third sons get nothing: no title, no estate, not even the right to be styled “Sir.” A third son’s eldest daughter gets even less, and when my father died two years ago, his death left me with less than less. My family was still in France with the Queen Mother because we had nowhere else to go.
At last I spotted the one powdered face that was neither French nor exile. George Villiers, second Duke of Buckingham, was King Charles’s lifelong friend. His clothes were not repurposed. His brown woven-silk doublet and pantaloons, embroidered with scrolls of gold thread, glimmered in the candelabra’s light. Favor with King Charles had gained him much with the Restoration: income rights, property, and court offices. He’d escorted Princess Henriette Anne back from her recent visit to England, and he’d gained popularity at the French court, too. After her wedding, he would return home to his wealth and his duchess. I had to talk to him. Tonight.
Buckingham glanced at me, as if he sensed my stare. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. He muttered to the French ladies in his circle. Then he moved across the hall toward our threesome, scabbard flashing at his hip. He spoke directly to St. Albans. “I expect your court will follow me to England shortly, now that Princess Henriette Anne is married.”
St. Albans shook his head. “The Queen Mother will delay her return.”
“Parliament will never cough up her allowance while she’s on French soil. If you expect her to pay you for your loyal service, you’ll encourage her to sail soon.”
St. Albans was the Queen Mother’s lord chamberlain and the only courtier she kept in comfort. Though he wasn’t as ostentatious as Buckingham, his black silk ensemble certainly wasn’t shabby. “She’s not one brought to heel easily.”