Royal Sisters: The Story of the Daughters of James II (49 page)

“Men … dismiss!” cried Gloucester. “Mr. Hughes, to my apartments quick … march.”

So Gloucester went off with the tailor and in a short time the stays had been altered to fit comfortably.

Lewis Jenkins laughed at the affair with his fellow attendants. “He’ll get what he wants, that little one,” he commented, and it struck him that they were fortunate to be in the service of the Duke of Gloucester. It was time he was acknowledged the Prince of Wales, for the more honors that befell him, the more they would all benefit.

THE END OF A LIFE

rs. Lundy, daughter of Robert Lundy
, who had been Governor of Londonderry, where he had served with little distinction, and had betrayed William and deserted the town during the siege—smiled at Elizabeth Villiers and wondered why the woman was being so gracious to her.

“You have great influence with my lord Shrewsbury,” said Elizabeth, “and I can well understand that.”

Mrs. Lundy, a vain and pretty woman, laughed. “He’s an obstinate devil,” she said, “once he has made up his mind.”

“What man is not?” asked Elizabeth. “But sometimes—nay, often—it is possible to use a little gentle persuasion.”

“You think Shrewsbury would listen to me?”

“If he would not listen to you he would listen to no one.”

That pleased the woman; she tossed her head. No doubt she was proud of her conquest, for Shrewsbury was reckoned to be a fascinating man. He had a damaged eye which some people found repulsive; yet that seemed but to add to his attractions where others were concerned. Elizabeth herself knew the value of some slight imperfection and how it could be turned to an asset.

She must get Shrewsbury to take office. William would be so delighted if she did; and she was eager to bind him closer and closer to herself.

“A Dukedom. That is worth having,” went on Elizabeth. Surely, she implied, you would rather be the mistress of a Duke than an Earl? As the mistress of a King, Elizabeth could show that the rank of one’s lover was of the utmost importance.

“He doesn’t seem to care for titles.”

“He is well equipped in that direction,” added Elizabeth. “But I have yet to know the man who was not ready to take a little more. I’ll warrant you will make him do as you wish.”

Mrs. Lundy was not at all sure that it was her wish; but Elizabeth was subtly convincing her that it was.

Well, Mrs. Lundy was thinking, Secretary of State, a Duke … that was rather pleasant. And the King—and the Queen—would know that it was Mrs. Lundy who had persuaded that obstinate man to change his mind. They ought then to be very respectful toward Mrs. Lundy.

“I will talk to him,” she said.

“I know you will succeed,” Elizabeth assured her.

Gloucester was suffering
from the ague and his mother was frantic with anxiety until she remembered that a Mr. Sentiman used to make up a prescription of brandy and saffron which he claimed would cure any sort of ague. Anne’s uncle, Charles II, had dabbled in the making of medicines and she had heard him recommend this prescription. So Anne immediately sent for Mr. Sentiman.

The mixture was brought to Gloucester who, protesting, took it. It cured his ague but made him so ill that his parents feared he was on the point of death.

Anne sat on one side of his bed, George on the other.

“He must not die,” whispered Anne brokenheartedly, and George came to stand at her side and place one of his fat hands on her shoulder. Dear comforting George, who loved the boy even as she did. Gloucester looked weakly from one to the other and smiled faintly.

“You must not fret so, Papa and Mama,” he said. “I shall get better soon. I have to drill the men I intend to offer the King to go to Flanders with him.”

Then he closed his eyes and slept.

He was right; he did improve.

It was a glorious day when Anne and George knew that he was out of danger.

“He should be proclaimed Prince of Wales,” said Anne.

George shook his head, meaning that it would not be wise.

“Mary is fond of him; she gives him almost everything he asks for. I think sometimes she would give everything she has for a son like our boy. George, I have just thought of something. The Duke of Hamilton has died. Does that convey anything to you?”

“No, my dear, only that the Duke of Hamilton is dead.”

“He had the Garter.”

“It’s true,” said George.

“A blue ribbon vacant. Why not for our boy?”

“It should be his. Why not?”

“My lord Shrewsbury
to see Your Majesty.”

“Pray tell him to come to me at once.”

Mary was pleasurably excited as always by this man.

He came to her and bowed low. What was it about him that reminded her of her youth in Holland when she had danced with Monmouth? He was not in the least like Monmouth—he had far more to commend him. He was more serious. Poor Monmouth had tried to snatch at office and had lost his head in doing so, and Shrewsbury had been remarkably shy in taking it.

“I hope, my lord,” said Mary, flushing slightly, “that you have come to give me the news I shall best like to hear.”

“Your Majesties have been most gracious to me, most complimentary.”

“I know the King desires you to take office. There are few men here whom he can trust.”

“I once heard it said to him that there was no one in England who could be trusted and he replied, ‘Yes, there are men of honor in England, but alas, they are not my friends.’ ”

Mary nodded. “In his great wisdom he knew that to be true. You, my lord, are one whom he would trust; and if I could write to him and tell him that you have accepted office that would be the best news he could have.”

“It is my desire to serve Your Majesties.”

Mary gave a little cry of pleasure and laid her hand on his arm, then flushing still deeper, removed it.

“I am so delighted that you have made this decision.”

They looked at each other intently. He was suspected of being a Jacobite; but he was also a man of honor. Perhaps he had refused office because he had no wish to serve against the King to whom he had once sworn allegiance. This taking of office, in the case of a man like Shrewsbury, must mean that he had accepted the revolution, that he had decided that it was impossible to attempt to bring back James and would work therefore for William and Mary.

William was right. There were few men of honor who had been his friends. If they had been men of honor they would not readily have deserted the old King in favor of the new. That was why William had had to look for his friends among Dutchmen.

But Shrewsbury was a man they knew they could trust, and the Queen felt a mingling of relief, delight—and excitement.

Gloucester was preparing
to visit the Queen; he had recovered from the ague and was as full of vitality as ever. He looked like an odd little man in his white camlet suit with the silver thread decorations and he was pleased now because Mr. Hughes had taken most of the stiffness out of his stays.

His mother put a blue ribbon over his shoulders and stood back to admire the effect.

“But what is that?” he asked.

“Do you not like it?”

“Soldiers don’t wear them.”

“Ah, yes they do, if they are honored enough.”

“I have never seen a soldier in a blue ribbon.”

“It is the ribbon of the Garter.”

“A garter, worn there …”

“They have a garter too.”

“Where is it?”

“You haven’t got that yet. It has to be given by the Queen. Perhaps when she sees how that blue ribbon becomes you she will give you one.”

Gloucester was not greatly impressed, but was always pleased to visit his aunt; and when he was with her he forgot about the blue ribbon for she did not mention it either.

Mary had noticed it though and understood the implication. Anne wanted her to bestow the Garter on her nephew.

She would have liked to do so, for nothing pleased her better than bestowing honors on the little boy; but she had already made up her mind who was to have the vacant Garter.

A Dukedom was not enough for one whom she admired, as she did Shrewsbury; and the Garter should be his.

“So it is
the Garter for Shrewsbury!” cried Sarah. “A Dukedom and the Garter!”

“She knew that I wanted the Garter for my boy.”

“You can want all you like. She can’t do enough for that man. You can guess why, Mrs. Morley.”

“You don’t mean …”

“What else? I have heard that she starts and blushes every time he comes into the room. Well, you can’t wonder at it when you consider Caliban. And what of the Villiers woman too! Naturally the Queen wants a little fun.”

“As you say considering Caliban …”

They laughed together, Anne a little bitterly because she was furious that Gloucester had been denied the Garter.

“You know what Jack Howe says …” went on Sarah.

“Pray tell me.”

“You know, Mrs. Morley, that Jack Howe was dismissed from the Queen’s service, but he knew much of what went on there and he said that if William died she would go so far as to marry Shrewsbury.”

“He is supposed to be handsome, Mrs. Freeman, but that eye of his is so repulsive.”