Anne added: “If you missed him one night, you would see him the next. He is a frequent visitor.”
“You mean … spy on him?”
Anne shrugged her shoulders. “It depends on how important you think this is.”
“You never liked William,” I accused her.
“I am not alone in that. There are many of us who do not like the manner in which he treats you.”
I said: “Leave me. I should like to be alone.”
They immediately obeyed.
I was bewildered. I could not believe this, and yet there was a certain inevitability about it.
Elizabeth Villiers! She was not the most beautiful of women—even setting aside that squint. She had a strong personality; she was not a woman who would be passed by in a crowd. She had dignity. I was trying to think what he could find attractive in her.
But he had no time for women. He did his “duty” with me now and then but that was for a purpose.
Then suddenly I felt an overwhelming jealousy. He did not want me, yet I was reckoned to be beautiful. I know all princesses are said to be, but I was. True, I was inclined to plumpness, but that was not unattractive. Yet he clearly had little time for me and was going to Elizabeth Villiers. I could not believe it.
Then I remembered the tales I had heard of his youth when, under the influence of drink, he had broken the windows of the maids of honor’s apartments in an attempt to reach them. He must have masculine needs, the same as any man, but they could not be satisfied by me so he turned to Elizabeth Villiers.
No! No! No! I said. But a voice within me was jeering at me. Why not? I thought of the position she had made for herself at court. She had become a sort of governess to the maids of honor. People took orders from her. When her sister Anne had married William Bentinck, William had made no protest. I remembered the trouble over Jane Wroth and Zulestein. Of course, the Villiers were a noble family, but Bentinck … well, he was William’s great friend and the marriage had strengthened the tie between Elizabeth and William.
Desperately I was trying to disbelieve, but as the minutes went by the story seemed more plausible.
Anne came to me again.
She said: “Forgive me. I should not have told you.”
“If it is true, I should know.”
“But it has wounded you deeply. It is the last thing I should wish.”
“I know that, Anne,” I said. “You have always been my dear friend. I trust you always will be and it is better for me to know the truth.”
She took my hand and kissed it.
“He is with her most nights,” she said. “If you watched, you could see him and prove it. Yes, it is better to know the truth, however painful. I have pondered for a long time. But Dr. Covell thinks you should be aware of what is known throughout the court.”
“Dr. Covell!”
“He is very angry with the manner in which you have been treated. He has written to your father.”
“My father knows … about this?”
She was silent.
“Anne,” I said, “does my father know about William and Elizabeth Villiers?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“I can’t believe it. It is lies which have been said about the Prince to harm him in my father’s eyes.”
“You could see for yourself …”
I was decided now. I knew I was going to spy on my husband.
WE WERE IN OUR HIDING PLACE. It was a large cupboard on the stairs leading to the chamber which had been assigned to Elizabeth Villiers. It was separate from the quarters of the other ladies. The reason for that was now obvious.
Anne was not sure what time he would come, but she was certain that he would—if not this night, the following one, for he was a very frequent visitor.
I hated what I was doing. It seemed a mean and underhand act. But I had to know and the only alternative was to ask him. I could not bring myself to do that.
Suddenly Anne caught my hand and I listened. There was the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the stairs—quiet and stealthy. They were close now and when they passed Anne opened the door quietly and very slightly. I saw the back of William as he mounted the stairs, I saw him reach the door of Elizabeth Villiers’ bedchamber. He went in.
Anne turned to me in triumph.
“You have proof now,” she said.
I did not speak until I had reached my bedchamber. Then I said: “So it is true.”
“I am so sorry,” said Anne. She put her arm round me. “It is better not to be in ignorance,” she added soothingly.
“And people know,” I said. “Dr. Covell, Mr. Skelton … and my father.”
“And many more,” said Anne.
“What shall I do?”
“Your father will advise you.”
“No. I could not speak of this to him. Perhaps when the Prince knows that I have discovered it … he will cease to see her.
Anne looked at me disbelievingly.
“I must think about it,” I said.
“Do not brood on it. It happened. Few men are faithful.”
“Leave me now, Anne,” I said. “I will send for you when I need you.”
When she had gone, disbelief descended on me once again. It was not true. Other men were unfaithful. Not William. It was not that I thought he would have any scruples in the matter, but that he would not attach any importance to love, to the charm of women, to physical experiences. And certainly not if it meant creeping up back stairs by night. I knew of the exploits of the late King and my father and most of the courtiers of Whitehall, but I had thought William was apart from all that. And now I had discovered that he was, after all, like the rest. I had formed my opinion of him because I did not attract him—and therefore I had imagined that no one else could.
I spent a sleepless night. I thought of them all, discussing my affairs, pitying me, courting Elizabeth Villiers, which I now realized they had done.
How had she attracted him with her lack of feminine grace, with her squinting eyes?
I remembered those supper parties in the maids of honor’s apartments. I believed she was his spy as well as his mistress. She would be working for him, extracting opinions from the discontented English at The Hague, passing on information. Those parties had been arranged for that purpose.
I felt sick with the horror of it all.
It was not until the afternoon of the next day that I saw William. He came along to my apartments and when I saw him I was so overcome with anger and emotion that I could not consider my words with care and they came rushing forth unchecked.
I said: “I know now that you have mistress. I am shocked and amazed. You … who have pretended to be so virtuous … when all the time you are creeping up the back stairs to Elizabeth Villiers’s apartments. Pray do not attempt to deny it. I have watched you. I have seen you.”
He held up a hand to stop my outburst, but his expression had changed, his lips had tightened and an unusual color had risen to his face.
“What are you saying?” he demanded.
“I should have thought it was clear. You have a mistress. She is Elizabeth Villiers. It is not recent. It has been going on for a long time. That is the reason why she gives herself airs. Anyone would think she were my mistress as well as yours.”
“You are hysterical,” he said.
“And you are unfaithful. You have posed as a man of great virtue … and delicacy … without human weaknesses …”
“I have posed as no one that I am not,” he said. “If you have built up an image of me, that is your doing in your lack of reasoning and your inexperience of the world.”
“Do you deny this?” I asked angrily.
“No,” he replied.
“So you admit that she is your mistress?”
“These matters are not important to people in our position.”
“They are important to me.”
“Pray be reasonable.”
“And say that I do not care if you creep u
p to the bedchamber of my women at night?”
“Who told you of this?”
“Does that matter? I know.”
“Skelton is behind this. I shall find out. I will not have spies in my court.”
“My friends know of this and they do not like the way I am treated.”
“You are my wife,” he said.
“And you are in love with Elizabeth Villiers.”
He made an impatient gesture. “I am surprised,” he said, “that, brought up in what is reckoned to be the most licentious court in Europe, you should make an issue of such a matter.”
“This concerned myself … my husband …” I began, and felt the tears in my eyes.
He saw them and came to me and laid a hand on my shoulders. He smiled. “Mary,” he said, “you are a child in many ways. When I saw you I determined to marry you.”
“Because of what I could bring you. I know that.”
“Listen to me. How do I know what you will bring me?”
“The vision of the three crowns. They will come through me.”
“I would not marry a wife I did not like and when I saw you, I said, this is the wife for me. Come, understand. I am not like the men you knew at your uncle’s court.”
“It would seem you are more like them than I realized.”
“This is nothing. These things happen now and then—and far less at The Hague than in most courts. The matter is of no importance. Just an everyday happening … nothing more.”
“Then you will not see her again? You will send her back to England?”
He frowned. Then he laughed lightly. “Oh, you will see it is not important. One must not make an issue of these things. People get wrong impressions. We must think of our position.”
Desperately I wanted to be soothed. He was more gentle than he had ever been. I was filled with a desire to oust Elizabeth Villiers from his affections, and I was already beginning to let myself believe that this affair was nothing. It had been exaggerated. It was a passing fancy. Men did have such things. I must try to be more worldly. I was enjoying his efforts to placate me.
I said: “My father knows …”
I saw his face change. “Who told you that?”
I hesitated, not wanting to implicate Anne Trelawny.
I said: “I heard it. He is not pleased about it.”
William was thoughtful. Then he put his arm about me.
“I am sorry that I have seen so little of you of late,” he said.
“You have been seeing Elizabeth Villiers, of course.”
“I have seen very little of anyone save my ministers. But we might go to Dieren for a few days.”
I thought: he cares enough to try to make excuses, and I felt a certain satisfaction.
He kissed me gently. “Don’t forget,” he said. “It was you whom I married. It is you I love.”
This was startling. I had not heard him speak of love before. He was trying to take my mind from Elizabeth Villiers, I knew. Hence his expression of something near tenderness. I understood it was due to expediency, but I felt a little mollified.
I CONTINUED TO BE DISTURBED. William’s show of affection had had an effect on me. I found myself going over what he actually said to me. That he had been very uneasy about my discovery, I knew. But the fact that he took the trouble to reassure me lifted my spirits. There had been times when I thought I hated him, but I was not sure. My hatred had been fierce but it was due to the fact that he ignored me. I wanted him to notice me. I wanted to be important to him for myself, not just for the crown I might bring him.
It suddenly occurred to me two days later that, since they had told me of William’s infidelity, I had not seen either Anne Trelawny or Mrs. Langford. I sent for Anne. She did not come. It was Anne Villiers—Anne Bentinck now—who came in her place.
“Mistress Trelawny is not here, Your Highness,” she said.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“She … has left.”
“Left? Left for where?”
“For England. Mrs. Langford was with her. Dr. Covell has also gone.”
“I do not understand,” I said. “How could they have left for England without my knowing?”
“They were sent, Your Highness.”
Anne Bentinck looked upset. She had never been so hard as her sister and had softened since her marriage.
“Sent? I do not understand.”
“Your Highness, the Prince gave orders that they were to leave without delay. They left last night.”
“You mean … they were sent away?”
“Yes, Your Highness. They were ordered to leave.”
“Without telling me? They are my attendants!”
“It was on the Prince’s orders.”
“Why? Why?”
I knew, of course. It was Anne and Mrs. Langford who had told me that it was Elizabeth Villiers who was the Prince’s mistress. And Dr. Covell had been receiving letters from England about the matter. So they had been dismissed. William had done this.
Anne tried to comfort me.
I said piteously. “Anne Trelawny is my greatest friend. She has been with me since we were children.”
“I know. But she has offended the Prince. He would say that if they were working against him they were working against his country.”
I said: “He knew it was Anne who told me … what he did not wish me to know.”
She nodded. News spread quickly at court. I could imagine the talk. The Princess has discovered that the Prince spends his nights with Elizabeth Villiers.
I wished they had never told me. It would have been better for me to remain in ignorance than lose those I loved best.
I WAS AMAZED. Now that I had discovered that William had a mistress and he knew that I was aware of it, I had expected him to give her up. He had said that he loved me; from the moment he had seen me he had determined to marry me, that he would not have done so, even for a crown, if he had not liked me. Naturally I had thought he was asking me to forgive him and forget this infidelity with Elizabeth Villiers, that he had been momentarily tempted and the affair had become more or less a habit which he would now discard.
It was nothing of the sort. He continued to see her; and the position had not changed at all. All that had come out of this was that I had lost my friends—even my dearest Anne who had been with me for so long that she was a part of my life.
I was hurt and bewildered and a sudden wild plan came to me. I acted on the spur of the moment. I am sure if I had given the matter more thought I should never have had the courage to act as I did.
I had seen little of William for the past few days. He had said he was engaged on state matters, but I happened to know he was seeing Elizabeth Villiers. I felt bitterly humiliated.
I had been a fool to be so easily placated and to believe all he told me. I was very angry and when I did not see him my courage always rose. It was when he was present that I was overawed.
He was going to be absent for a few days, away from The Hague, and while he was away he was going to do a little hunting.
When I ascertained that Elizabeth would not be with him, the idea occurred to me.
I did not think it out very clearly. There was no one I could trust now to help me carry it through. If Anne or Mrs. Langford had been with me, it would have been different; I could rely on no one else as I could those two.
William had sent my friends away. There had been no opportunity for me to question his decision. It was done before I was aware that it had happened. Well, I was going to do the same to him. I had been robbed of my greatest friend and I was going to rob him of his.
I sent for Elizabeth Villiers. She had to obey, of course. She was my maid of honor, even if she were also my husband’s mistress.
I was not alone when I called her to me. I was not going to give her a chance to talk insolently of her relationship with William which I felt she might have done if there were no witnesses.
When she arrived, I said: “I
have an important duty for you, Elizabeth, and I know you will carry it out with your usual efficiency. That is why I have chosen you to do it. There is a letter which my father must have in his hands with all speed, and I want you to deliver it for me.”
She looked at me in astonishment.
I felt strong and brave, my father’s daughter, heiress to the throne of England. If ever I attained that crown, I should be very important—more so than William. The Villiers family had always been aware of whom they must please and surely I was one.
I expected William had told Elizabeth that I now knew of their relationship; she might think therefore that this was some sort of revenge on my part. However, she could not disobey me and she could not reach William to get him to release her from this task I was giving her.
She smiled at me but I knew she did not feel in the least like smiling.
I knew her devious mind was trying to find some way of evading what I was suggesting, but I was not going to let her do that.
I said: “I shall send an escort with you to put you onto a packet boat and conduct you to Whitehall. There you will deliver the letter into my father’s hands. You must go direct to him. Be prepared to leave tomorrow morning.”
I doubt whether she had ever seen me so regal as when I reminded myself of my position I could be; it was only William who overawed me and the thought of him out of reach gave me the courage I needed.
She said tersely: “I shall be ready to leave tomorrow morning.”
I was amazed how easy it was and I blamed myself for being so docile in the past. I only had to remind them by my manner who I was and they showed their deference.
I laughed triumphantly, though I did have a tremor or two when I thought of William’s return and his finding that I had dismissed his lover. But for the moment I was safe.
Before the night was out I wrote a letter to my father in which I told him I was sending William’s mistress to him with a letter. There was nothing of importance in the letter. I should seal it so that it could not be tampered with. When she arrived I wanted him to keep her there. I told him that William knew I was aware of his liaison with her and I had decided to stop it as he refused to give her up.
Jean Plaidy - [Queens of England 10] Page 19