They undressed in silence, not exchanging another word. When they were in bed and the candles were blown out they did not say good night and they lay well apart, their backs to each other. But neither could sleep. When, after an hour, he moved across and reached for her in the dark warmth, she turned to him at once in a burst of tears. She sobbed long and desperately, clinging to him, and he knew she wept for a state of her heart that she could not change, no matter how much she might have wished it. When her weeping subsided he made love to her gently and tenderly. It mended the quarrel between them even though the cause remained.
*
Ridley made the six-ribbon loom for Julia and was sworn to secrecy. If other ribbon firms came to know of it all her rivals would be copying it illegally. In a side room behind a locked door in the presence of her embroiderer-forewomen, Mrs Blake, she let Alice try out the loom. For a few minutes all went well and then there came a hitch that could not be solved. As it happened to be a Wednesday afternoon, Julia went to the Temple where the Royal Society met alternately to a room at Gresham College. She sat in an anteroom where visitors were allowed to wait and could hear the rumble of male voices behind the door where the meeting was taking place.
When the members of the Royal Society emerged she was struck by the fact that most of them were around Christopher’s age: he would be thirty-one in October, shortly after her twenty-third birthday. No greybeards here, but vigorous, lively men, some fashionably periwigged, others with that disregard for appearance common to many brilliant minds with no time to waste on minor matters. Christopher, with crisp, clean lace and well-brushed clothes of moderate cut, came comfortably between the two extremes. He was arguing cheerfully with a fellow member as they paused to dispute some special point, strolling a few paces and then stopping again. It was as he was gesticulating that his glance happened to fall on Julia.
The sight of her was so unexpected that for a brief, revealing second she saw on his face a similar expression to that which had revealed itself when he had seen her as a grown woman for the first time. Delight, surprise and desire mingled in the look that a man gives a woman he cares for. Then it was gone like a mask discarded as he excused himself from his companion and immediately came across to her.
‘What brings you here, my dear Julia?’ he questioned with his broad smile.
She explained and he said he would go straight away with her to the workshop. On the way they exchanged news and he asked if there was any word of Michael’s making a trip home.
‘No, I fear he’s not well. Twice he has been coming and then the malady that affects his stomach has prevented him. The bailiff goes regularly to Paris these days to report and receive instructions. Michael seems to have resigned himself to that arrangement for the time being. Adam says we shall go ourselves to visit him one day. My nephew will be three years old now and I long to see him.’
At the workshop it was past the hour when work stopped for the day and all hands had gone home except Mrs Blake and Alice, who had waited. Christopher made a slight adjustment to the loom and solved the problem. Then to the amusement of the three young women he sat down and wove a full inch of six ribbons at the same time with ease and speed. Julia declared her intention of getting Ridley to make more looms for her.
It did not prove a problem to swear her workers to secrecy over the loom. She promised them a special bonus that would result from the increased output, and none wanted to lose the extra money. The new looms were put into action and nobody who was not employed on the premises was allowed beyond the door of the weaving room.
Although Alice was allowed to continue to carry out the ribbon deliveries with the Needham boys, both of whom had grown out of their liveries long since and had had to have replacements, Julia had lost Nell. The girl had grown up swiftly in the unsavoury establishment owned by Mrs Ross, which with the tavern and the street life were all she knew away from the few hours a week when she danced along with the gilded box. That procedure had not always gone smoothly, for Nell, whose witty tongue had made her an equal in the humorous repartee that prevailed among the stall-holders and the link-boys, had more than once made saucy quips to passers-by that were not at all in keeping with the dignity of the little procession. Yet Nell was so likeable it was impossible to put any sternness into a reprimand, which, in any case, she always took with her unassailable good humour. Then, almost overnight, she was a young woman with a trim figure, her impish charm unsullied by her circumstances, announcing she was going to work longer hours for Mrs Ross.
‘There’s no need for you to do that.’ Julia was most anxious for the girl. ‘I can have you trained as a lady’s maid where you’ll be in a good home and be cared for.’
‘And be bored!’ Nell laughed merrily. ‘Don’t worry about me, madam. I don’t mean to stay long with that old harridan. I’m ambitious. There’s going to be a new playhouse in Drury Lane, only a coin’s toss from Coal Yard Alley, and I intend to keep an eye on it. I’ve a fancy to walk the boards one day.’ It was impossible not to believe that Nell would achieve her aim. ‘I’ll come to your first performance,’ Julia promised, hoping that the girl would never be hurt by life, for she had such a warm and generous nature. ‘If ever you’re in need of help, I’ll be your friend.’
‘I thank you, but I have this.’ She pulled at a chain round her neck and brought into sight a silver coin that had had a hole bored in it to turn it into a medallion, ‘It’s my lucky charm!’
*
Julia did not see Christopher for a long while after that day at the workshop, although he wrote for her birthday and Christmas as he had always done. Then he was commissioned to build a theatre for the university at Oxford, not for actors and actresses, but for scholastic gatherings of large numbers and the giving of special lectures. First of all he made a model from his own design, which he brought to London to show to the Royal Society and afterwards invited Adam and Julia to see it. When they arrived at Gresham College he was in high spirits, having, prior to coming to the city, successfully carried out a blood transfusion on his dog, which had suffered no pain.
‘My good hound was as lively as a cricket afterwards, having no idea why he received an extra meaty bone from the butcher as a reward. I’ve delivered a lecture to doctors of medicine already in the hope they would see what benefits this could bring to mankind.’
‘How did the doctors receive it?’ Adam questioned with interest.
‘Not with any enthusiasm, I fear. They believe more in bleeding their patients than in giving them life’s source. A few walked out, taking objection on religious grounds. My hope is that not all will shut their minds to it. At least my fellow members in the Royal Society were far more receptive, but then scientists and thinkers such as they thrive on new ideas.’ He then opened the door into the next room. ‘Come now and see my model. I haven’t followed convention there either and must leave you to judge whether you like it or not.’
It stood on a stand and was reflected in the polished surface. Circular in shape, it was inspired by the Theatre of Marcellus, but whereas the building of ancient Rome stood open to the skies, Christopher had drawn on some earlier research done by a friend and fellow mathematician. He had devised ingeniously a means by which the roofing-in could be done without supporting pillars, which, for a span of eighty by seventy feet, had never been done before. It was to be known as the Sheldonian Theatre and would be as aesthetically beautiful as it would be practicable in use.
‘My little joke will be to have the ceiling painted as if curtains have been drawn back from the sky,’ he chuckled.
‘It’s going to be a splendid building,’ she said, peering into the model, for he had lifted away the extraordinary roof.
‘I wanted you both to see it,’ he said, although his eyes were only on her.
He does still care for me, she thought. It had shown in his surprise when she had waited for him at the Temple. Now, inadvertently, he had revealed his feelings again in wanting her to be among the fir
st to know of this project that was so new and exciting to him. She did not doubt that he loved Faith for all her good qualities, but he had not been able to sever that amorous link forged such a long time ago with her. It made her wish it were possible to tell him she knew his secret and he must surely know hers just as she would have done in times past, but it was something neither could ever confess to the other.
*
The King, quite apart from enjoying masques at his own palace, was an enthusiastic playgoer, although he preferred comedy to tragedy, having had enough of the latter in his life. He had presented his coronation robes to the theatre and had encouraged his brother James, Duke of York, to do likewise with all he had worn that day, each having a company of players named after him to whom they gave patronage.
Julia and Adam were in a neighbouring box to Charles for a performance of Henry V in which the crimson and gold coronation robes were worn by the actor playing the King of France. She noticed that the Pallister-bowed shoes had been replaced by a red leather pair and guessed the actor did not have such large feet as the King, a fact she was able to observe at close quarters again when she and Adam were invited into the royal box during the interval. It was not the first time this had happened, for they had often been at one or another of the London theatres when Charles had been present, usually with Lady Castlemaine or some other beautiful woman who would be equally elegant with a deep, pale cleavage gleaming in the glow from the stage, jewels winking. All fashionable women wore hats to the theatre, Julia included, and brims had grown still wider since the Restoration, sometimes cocked up at the side as a frame for the face, and she could almost always be sure that any ribbon ornamentation was the work of her weavers and embroiderers. Recently she had begun a line of specially looped ribbons and bows for female headgear and it had caught on immediately.
The new theatre that Nell had spoken about was nearing completion in Drury Lane and it was to be known as the King’s Playhouse. Charles had been several times to the site to view its progress. Built largely of wood, it presented a fine frontage with a grand entrance. Within there were three tiers of boxes above which were two galleries, the upper one to be free to coach-servants, personal link-boys and other staff, who would be awaiting masters and mistresses attending performances. The area known as the pit was used as much for strolling about as for sitting on the benches provided. To the rear were the dressing rooms with individual ones for leading actors and actresses. In all it was a jewel of a theatre and much was expected of whoever should act there.
On the opening night the beau monde filled all the boxes. In the pit the gallants, many extravagantly dressed, swaggered about, flirting with any attractive women and being as uproarious and noisy as possible. Faith was dismayed when several of these rakes blew kisses to Julia and her from the tips of their fingers and shouted up lascivious compliments. Unused to such behaviour, she drew her chair back timidly to sit closer to her betrothed. Out of the corner of his eye, Adam noticed the reflected pang in his wife’s face as she observed Christopher take Faith’s hand and hold it reassuringly as if to show that there was nothing against which he would not protect her.
One of the bucks, bold with ale from the nearby Cow and Fiddle tavern, there being no strong waters sold on the theatre’s premises, climbed up to the Warrender box to hand Julia a flower. Then he lost his footing and she cried out in alarm as he clung precariously to the parapet, but his friends gathered below to break his fall when he let go. He landed in their midst, bringing them all tumbling about him into a heap to the mirth of everyone. Julia laughed as much in relief that the foolish fellow had come to no harm as she did from the comical sight.
She fluttered her fan, her eyes shining at all there was to see. Part of the roof above the pit was glass and rays of sunshine competed with the sconces and the stage candle-lamps, the performance being as was usual at a late afternoon hour. She acknowledged the bows of acquaintances in the boxes, but the pit was the most fun to watch and Adam leaned on an elbow to look down with her. Comely wenches, employed by the woman who held the licence, moved about the pit selling sweetmeats and oranges as well as flowers, which would be thrown to players at the end for a good performance. Those in the pit and the gallery would have come prepared with their own rotten eggs and tomatoes should any actor or actress disappoint them. It was unlikely that the play itself would fail to please them this evening, for it was The Humorous Lieutenant, which was always a favourite. Suddenly Julia gasped. ‘Look Adam! There’s Nell!’
The girl had a basket of oranges on her arm and must have been selling at a point out of view, for suddenly there she was with her unmistakable red curls, exchanging cheeky badinage with those seated on the benches, although it was impossible to hear what was said in the general hub-bub.
‘Try to attract her attention, Adam,’ Julia urged.
He gave a shout with cupped hands. ‘Nell!’
She failed to hear him. Gallants had surrounded her, buying her oranges and weighing them in their hands, obviously making lewd comparisons and Nell, with her head flung back, laughed as heartily as they. Then a fanfare of trumpets and a rustle as all seated rose to their feet announced the King’s arrival in the garlanded royal box. Julia, who was still watching Nell, saw a transformation come over her as she turned to look raptly up at Charles. Attired in scarlet and gold and a white-plumed hat, he acknowledged the applause of the well-bred and the rousing cheers from the pit and galleries. She looked so absorbed in him that it was unlikely she noticed the Queen at his side, resplendent in oyster silk and pearls. Charles’s smiling gaze passed around the theatre, but the orange girl was one in a crowd of upturned faces and went unseen. Then he took his seat and the comical play began.
None enjoyed the performance more than he. He rocked with laughter and slapped his knee at the witticism of the dialogue, interpreted anew by the talented cast. Already he had earned a nickname as the ‘merry monarch,’ endearing himself still further to those of his subjects who liked a good laugh themselves and did not condemn him for being less faithful to his wife than he should have been.
This evening the Queen was equally gay. Catherine had not been able to speak more than a few words of English when she landed at Portsmouth, but from the start she had set out to master the language and so the jokes in the play were not lost on her. When the interval came she applauded the first act as vigorously as her husband.
This time Adam went down to the pit to gain Nell’s attention. Julia saw him speak to her and she spun round at once to look up with a broad grin. Running forward until she was directly below the box, she took an orange from her basket and threw it up. Her intention was better than her aim and if Christopher, always quick in his reactions, had not caught it like a cricket ball, it would have burst against the box’s panelled walls.
‘I thank you, Nell!’ Julia called down.
‘I’ve made the first step, haven’t I?’ Nell joked back, sticking a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the stage.
‘Only one more!’ Julia gave back in the same vein. ‘Remember! I’ll be in this box when that day comes.’
Nell waved appreciation of this encouragement and went back to her selling. She refused to accept payment for Julia’s orange, but Adam bought three more from her which he brought back to the box. The juicy fruit was refreshing and Christopher said he could not remember when he had tasted a better orange.
After that Julia always saw Nell when she and Adam decided to go to the King’s Playhouse. The girl continued to be hopeful that eventually she would be successful in gaining a part, but she had had no theatrical training and Mr Killigrew, the actor-manager, was unapproachable towards amateurs, especially as there was such intense rivalry between his company and the Duke of York’s players. He had a high standard to maintain.
The Queen discussed with Julia the various plays that they had both seen. Catherine thought it very English to show enthusiasm for the theatre, and in all things she tried to be as much like
the ladies around her as possible. It delighted her that her request for a cup of tea, the first words she uttered upon landing on English soil for her marriage, had set a fashion for a drink that previously many had not tasted. She was always looking for guidance in fashion, not wanting to appear at all foreign in her dress. One evening at Court, Julia wore a bow of cornflower-embroidered ribbon in her hair attached to the top-knot with streamers hanging down to her hem at the back. The next day the Queen also wore a Pallister ribbon in the same way and a mode was set that swept through all the ladies at Court and beyond. Eventually even the female street-criers of wares were wearing it; no matter that the ribbons of the poorer women were of gaudy fair-ground quality, it gave a pretty effect that made the streets all the brighter for it. Then gradually the mode was lost, remaining only with lavender sellers, who made it a mark of their trade.
By that time Nell had gained her chance to act. She had finally been noticed, given some training and taught how to dance professionally. Not being able to read or write proved no disadvantage, for she could memorize anything read out to her. An actress born, she made her debut in The Old Trouper and, as promised, Julia was at the theatre to applaud her. Then she went on applauding as Nell gained better parts and with astonishing swiftness moved into main roles, some of which were written especially for her, creating situations where it was necessary for her to wear men’s attire. These revealed her good legs and it was said that no actress had a better pair of pins than pretty, witty Nell of the King’s Playhouse.
The outbreak of war with the Dutch kept Adam many hours at Westminster. His work brought him into contact a great deal with the Clerk of the Acts, Mr Pepys, at whose home he and Julia were invited to dine or sup on several occasions. These were always jolly affairs with good talk and an excellent table presided over by his wife, Elizabeth, a good-looking woman with fine eyes. Great concern was shared by Adam and Mr Pepys, among others, when the Duke of York impetuously set sail to blockade the Dutch ports with a fleet that had not been properly equipped or victualled. Julia hardly saw Adam for days when the Fleet did return for the necessary attention of the ships’ chandler, and debates about the war in the House of Commons kept him until late at night. She had no liking for the King’s brother, who was a conceited, arrogant man, although his personal courage in war could not be denied. He was still heir apparent to the throne, the Queen now believed to be barren, and had been well pleased after the Dutch had surrendered the American city of New Amsterdam that it was renamed New York in his honour. In her own mind Julia was beginning to fear that she was doomed to be as childless as the unfortunate Queen. At least she was spared that royal lady’s torment of knowing that her husband had more than a quiverful of bastards.
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