“The king was deeply offended.” Arlington paused. “He revoked the duke’s offices at court.”
I understood him perfectly. “Which will be divided among many hopefuls here at Whitehall. No doubt you want me to remind the king what a good servant you are when he’s making appointments.”
“No, I think I have that in hand,” he said, surprising me. Then he pinned me with a very serious stare. “But there may yet come a time when I’ll need you to remember the services I’ve done you. Congratulations,” he said, and the seriousness vanished. “You averted the first true disaster in your reign as official mistress.” He bowed, then backed out of the room as if I were royalty.
* * *
Looking out my window days later, I saw choppy whitecaps on the Thames, the water a dull reflection of the low-hanging fog, thick with smoke and soot. Wind whipped the watercraft, tipping and swaying the few watermen that dared row out on such a day. Surely they wouldn’t risk the rough waters unless driven by some urgency, some pressing responsibility? I wondered absently if what drove them to race the storm was pleasant or grave.
“Milady, it’s His Grace, Duke of Richmond and Len—”
“Show him in.” Mary hurried back through the chamber door. Fixing my expression, I turned carefully and curtsied low.
He bowed in return. “Mind if I smoke?” he asked.
“Certainly not.” I crossed to the fireplace to light a stick. “Sit, please.”
“If you summoned me to ask how it goes with Mademoiselle La Guard, you’ll be disappointed. She’s fair and pleasant, but I don’t think she likes me overmuch.” He sat at the table and packed fragrant Virginia tobacco into his slender clay pipe. “Made some comment about my love of whisky.” He sucked the flame I held for him until he drew a sweet smoke, which swirled into the air above him. “Besides, at the rate I spend, I’ll need a wife with an income or at least a good dowry.”
I tossed the stick into the fireplace where it immediately blackened and curled. “Would it be very bad?” I asked. “To have a wife with no money?”
He nursed his pipe. “I do have a sizable income myself. Damn generous of the king, really, to allow me so much. My estates do well enough. Hard to get vassals to pay rents during the war, understandably.” He eyed me curiously. “Cobham Hall, my estate in Kent, absorbs everything. The improvements cost a fortune. Worth it, though. You should come see it. I’d have to sell another estate just to pay that debt. Rather not do that, though. Rather have another income to balance it out.”
“I see.”
He lowered his pipe. “Say, what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing,” I lied, clasping my hands in front of me. “That is, I was wondering, would you settle for potential gains rather than idyllic love in a marriage?”
“I told you before,” he said, studying me. “I don’t expect to find love again.”
“And if you had an opportunity to make a marriage to a girl who had nothing but good blood and a good name and our king’s favor, would you consider marrying her for the prospects that might provide?”
My cousin stood. Palming his pipe, he propped his fist on the mantel above my head and leaned over me. “King’s favor is more profitable than any dowry,” he said, very seriously.
I hoped to God I was doing the right thing. My hand slipped low to my belly and lingered. “And, cousin, do you still want an heir more than anything in the world?”
CHAPTER 52
I saw Frances Stuart this afternoon, methought the beautifulest creature that ever I saw in my life.
—SAMUEL PEPYS’S DIARY
All I had to do was wait. When he cupped my backside, I moaned softly. I felt a thread of shame at my behavior, but this was the best way. I wrapped my arms around the king’s neck and whispered in his ear: “I thought it would be good for me to have a husband.”
He froze, paused for one small moment. “No.”
It was the response I expected. “Now don’t answer before I’ve explained.” I spoke softly. “Charles, if we’re going to continue this way, then I need a husband to protect my reputation.”
“I’ve refuted every claim that you’re my mistress!” His eyes were a mixture of pain and irritation. “I refuse to let a husband come between us.”
“He would be a husband in name only. If I had a husband with a title, I’d have legitimate status, a sign that I’m not a spinster or a mistress. What if I anger you? If you forsake me, I’ll be alone with a ruined reputation! I need to know … I have a place to fall.”
His expression softened. “I could never be cross with you, my angel.”
“God forbid it, my love, but what if something happens to you?”
He held his hands out wide. “I will arrange a title and an income for you now. You’ll be a duchess with power so no one can touch you when I die.”
“You may as well wave a flag over my head that reads ‘Official Mistress.’ I can’t wear that title. Please let me protect my honor.”
“You can’t stand before God, vow to love a man, and not follow through.” He hung his head. “You are my light, Frances.”
“You’re afraid I’ll fall in love with a husband?” I leaned close and whispered, “There’s no need to fear.” Holding his tender feelings in my hands, I pressed even further. “The man has no love for me; he would not be a real husband in my heart.”
His arms stiffened. “You already have someone in mind?”
“My cousin the Duke of—”
“Not Richmond!” He released me and flung his arms out, palms up, in an exaggerated, questioning gesture. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it. Then he shook his head. “He … is not a man to take being cuckolded well.”
I held up a hand as if I could soothe away the biting tension. “The marriage is as convenient for him as it is for me. He’s our cousin, a good man, with good estates. And you’ve made him very wealthy.”
“He spends outrageously.”
“So do you. Besides, he’s one of the only unmarried lords in England.”
“If I were inclined to let you marry, I’d pluck a sturdy beggar off the streets and grant him a peerage before giving you to Richmond.”
“The man doesn’t matter overmuch, just the arrangement. And he’s already agreed!”
His brows knit together; then his expression turned thoughtful, and he studied my face and my body with intensity. A shadow of suspicion lined his features.
“I’ve explained it,” I said, suddenly unsteady. “I’m marrying him!”
King Charles pointed his finger at my face. “You cannot do so without my sanction.”
Of course I could marry without the king’s permission. But that insult would shatter his pride. I couldn’t risk hurting him that way. My love was also my sovereign. All nobles sought the king’s approval before marriage, a traditional courtesy. It would be easier if I could find a way to make him agree.
“Charles, my own heart. Please trust me enough to allow it!” It isn’t just me anymore. I resisted the urge to cover my belly with my hand. “My sweet king,” I said, touching soft fingers to his tight jaw. “Let us stop this talk, it is upsetting you so. Take me to bed now, and we can think on it more tomorrow.”
He rubbed his hand down his face. “We shall see.”
CHAPTER 53
March
I sat by the queen in her presence chamber as she lost a meager sum to a few of her ladies at basset. Unable to focus on games, I tried to build a house of cards with shaky hands. King Charles had begrudgingly agreed to consider the arrangement and had ordered the Duke of Richmond to present his accounts. He was now delaying his approval on the pretext that Richmond’s disordered finances were an unsuitable provision for me.
Richmond was unruffled. “Give him a little time,” he’d said. “He thinks you’ll drop it. When he sees you’re serious, he’ll let you.” And he went about his usual business at Whitehall, which was spending money and corresponding in the management of his numerous estat
es.
“Are you well, Frances?” Queen Catherine asked with a look of concern.
I smiled weakly at her. “Actually, my head does ache.”
She nodded. “You go if you like.” She clasped my hand as I stood. “Sharles tell me your plans. Is anything wrong?”
“No,” I whispered. “It’s an arrangement to suit appearances.”
“You not leave me?” Her tone was strained.
“Of course not.” I hoped I was right. For her sake and mine.
When I reached the gallery, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to shut myself away in my chambers just yet. There would be much of that in my near future.
“Frances, I must speak with you.”
Startled, my lids flew open. “Oh, Lord Cornbury.” I pushed off the wall and walked down the gallery. “I really have no desire to discuss the Duke of Buckingham.”
Cornbury kept pace with me. “Not about that—about your plans to marry Richmond.” He looked over his shoulders for listeners. Seeing a few servants and Life Guards in the gallery, he pushed me gently into a passage and leaned close. “My father told me.”
Lord Chancellor Clarendon had never spoken more than two words to me in my five years at court. Why would he trouble himself with me now? “And how would he get word?”
“He’s lord chancellor. The king seeks his guidance in all matters.”
“Why would the king need guidance in a personal matter of mine?”
He put a hand on my shoulder. “King Charles ordered my father to investigate Richmond’s finances.”
I yanked away. “This is no business of yours or your father’s.”
His eyes widened. “I’m your friend! I’m trying to tell you how things are with him.”
“What makes you think I don’t already know?”
He tipped his head. “You do?”
“Of course I know. Everyone at Whitehall has outrageous debts. We are at war, it is the age of debt.”
He placed both hands on my upper arms. “Then I must tell you, do not despair. My father has told me the king’s words in utmost secrecy.” He peeked out of the doorway before going on. “He says the king would never allow a duke so highly ranked, especially a Stuart, to fall into poverty.” He let go of my arms. “I’ve come to tell you there’s no need to let Richmond’s financial shortcomings deter your plans to wed.” He stood back, an expectant look on his face, when a shadow darkened the passage.
Cornbury’s expression shifted to disgust as his eyes fell on the figure joining us.
I turned my head. Arlington. And he was bearing down on Cornbury with a contemptuous stare. The spite exchanged in their gazes confused me, for they had so recently approached me in like-minded accord. I turned to leave. I gathered my skirts to step down the first few stairs.
“La Belle Stuart, a word please?” Lord Arlington called behind me.
Cornbury looked completely panic-stricken.
“Very well,” I said, resigned. “Lord Arlington, I will see you in my chambers.”
As I moved through my antechamber, Arlington practically trampled my train.
“Lord Arlington, what is so important that you must press a weary lady so urgently?”
“I know about your engagement to the Duke of Richmond.”
I snorted. “Of course you do.”
“King Charles told Lord Clarendon to investigate Richmond’s financial accounts to find some excuse for breaking you up.”
“I know all about it.”
“I suppose Cornbury told you that and more?” I rolled my eyes to the heavens. “Did you know the king also gave orders to Archbishop Sheldon? To investigate the possibility of divorcing Queen Catherine.”
All the breath rushed out of me.
“The king inquired whether the church would allow a divorce if both parties were consenting and one party was … barren.”
“What did Sheldon tell the king?” My voice sounded far away.
“He asked for time to study it. Sheldon went to Lord Clarendon. Clarendon directed Cornbury to talk to you. He was following his father’s orders.”
He did not come to me in friendship. I rubbed my temple.
“What else did Cornbury tell you?”
There was no sense keeping anything from this man. “He told me Richmond was such a close relation the king would never allow him to be financially ruined. He said I should take heart and not deter my plans to wed.”
“Clarendon would give anything to keep King Charles married to a barren queen, you see. As long as the king is childless, his heir is the Duke of York.”
“Which would make Clarendon’s daughter Queen of England.”
“And himself grandfather to the next monarch.”
“It is possible that Clarendon only wishes to be rid of me to avoid the scandal of a royal divorce?”
“You give that greedy Hyde too much credit. Besides, he has no right to take the choice from King Charles.”
I eyed Arlington cautiously. It was no secret that he hated Clarendon. Arlington had once plotted with Castlemaine to bring the lord chancellor down. When their plans fell apart, he shifted back to the chancellor’s side. Now I suspected he was working with her again, trying to make Clarendon fall through me. “Why have you told me this?”
“I know you’ll marry Richmond. I know you won’t allow King Charles to disgrace himself and the queen.”
“So?”
“I’ve taken Buckingham out of your way. Even now he is locked in the Tower. I helped you with the French ambassadors and arranged for you to see the king privately in Salisbury. All this time I never once asked you for anything.”
He was calling in all his favors at once.
“Tell King Charles of Lord Chancellor Clarendon’s duplicity. He has a right to know. The truth will mean more, coming from you.”
“You want me to destroy the highest lord in office.”
* * *
When Arlington left, the tension he had created remained. I now understood that Arlington’s own ambitions were what drove him to strike down Buckingham. Each of them wanted the power of the lord chancellor’s position for themselves. I spent the next hour pacing from one window to the other. I knew King Charles was weary of Clarendon. From failing to obtain religious toleration early in Parliament, to his self-important attitude, everything Clarendon did caused the king to trust him less and less. King Charles had told me himself that he preferred proactive men to run his council. Men like Arlington.
By the time King Charles arrived, I wondered that he didn’t see my anxiety.
We ate quietly. Spoke of horse racing a little. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I got word from the Earl of St. Albans. You will be pleased to know I sent a secret promise not to attack France for another year. King Louis will return my West Indian colonies, and I won’t interfere with his attack on the Spanish Netherlands.” He eyed me. “That means he will turn against the Dutch. It will end our war.”
This should have thrilled me, but I could only summon a nod.
“I thought that would please you.” He was deliberately avoiding the topic of my marriage. Delaying it.
I knew, I knew with certainty then: he would never consent, never let me go. Had he really asked the bishop to investigate a divorce? As he rinsed his hands in a silver bowl, King Charles studied the skin above my delicate dressing gown. His eyes had that passion that usually melted me. And something else. He was taking measure.
“Dear heart, I’m tired.” I pulled my mantua gown over my décolletage. “Will you return in the morning, the usual time?”
“Anything you wish.” He kissed me on each cheek, bowed, and backed out of the room.
Treating me with such reverence yet stopping my hand. Aiming for things that would shake the government and church apart. What of England herself? War torn, ravaged by plague, fire, and religious radicals, England couldn’t cope with more than it had in the last year. The people and Parliament would revolt against
him. Just as they had against his father.
CHAPTER 54
Expect that birds should only sing to you,
And, as you walk, that every tree should bow;
Expect those statues as you pass should burn,
And with wonder men should statues turn.
—LORD MULGRAVE’S
“Elegy” to Frances Stuart
Richmond sat next to my bed later that night, resting his elbows on his knees. For the first time, he looked concerned. “I could reform the accounts or sell an estate to prove I can support you, but it would take too long. By then everyone would be able to tell.”
I put a hand over the slight mound of my belly. “The money wouldn’t matter, he’d find another excuse to block us.”
“Then we must make plans to elope.”
“It would put him in a rage if I left without his permission!” I shook my head. “He’d never forgive me. It would do you no good, cousin. If you incur his wrath, he’ll never grant you additional income—”
He looked down at his hands and spoke softly. “You’re reward enough.”
Brief, as was his style, the gentle words were a soft caress. And I knew his plan was the only way. I knew I could trust him. “Are you sure?”
He looked at me, clasped my hand. “Quite, lovely cousin.”
The intimacy conjured thoughts of my real love. The king had taken the first drastic step to marry me himself. I had to prevent him from ruining his country.
“If you do tell the king about Clarendon, surely Arlington will help you regain the king’s favor?” In an absent motion, his left hand went to his left eyelid. “He will forgive you eventually. He loves you, after all.”
I pressed both hands to my navel. Sweet small one, you come first in this. “Then … yes. And, perhaps—if I speak with the queen … If I gain her consent, and she grants my leave, we have not wholly disregarded the crown. She would entreat him to forgive me.”
“You must go to her. I shall make arrangements in Kent and send word to you.”
My chamber door swung open so hard it slammed into the wall. King Charles, in a cloud of fury, stood in the opening. His eyes fell on Richmond and filled with scorn. “Get out.”
Girl on the Golden Coin: A Novel of Frances Stuart Page 24