The Queen's Devotion: The Story of Queen Mary II (16 page)

“And you have let them know that you are one of them,” I said with a hint of reproach.

“I am what I am.”

“Tell me what will happen now?”

“I am being sent to Scotland.”

“To Scotland! Exiled to Scotland!”

“No. Not exiled this time. This time I go in honor. I am to be High Commissioner there. So I shall have work to do.”

I could not help feeling relieved.

“Charles thinks the family should stay in London. He says he will care for them. Anne would, of course, be expected to, but Mary Beatrice will insist on accompanying me.”

“Well,” I said. “It is better than exile here.”

He smiled ruefully. “This will be exile in a way . . . diplomatic exile. How I wish we could go back to happier days!”

I felt another flicker of impatience. So might we have done, but for your open declaration of your faith, I thought.

Again there was the sadness of departure and I wondered when I would see them again.

I was to remember that parting all through the years to come.

A HASTY MARRIAGE

Dr. Ken, who had taken Dr. Hooper's place, although slender and of small stature, was a man of great presence and strong character. He made no concession to fashion, wore no wig and his thin hair grew long, falling down on either side of his face. He was somewhat quick of temper, but good-natured, and, like his predecessor, Dr. Hooper, quite fearless, and would state any view that his conscience told him was the right one.

I felt an immediate liking for him, and I think he did for me; so I was pleased that he had come.

He and William did not take to each other. In fact, William disliked him even more than he had Dr. Hooper. I soon saw that he would like to be rid of these priests who came from England and were put in the place of the Dutch clergy of his choosing. I understood why it rankled.

Dr. Ken was quick to see that William was not as respectful toward me as he should have been. He wrote to my uncle, expressing himself “horribly unsatisfied with the Prince's behavior toward his wife.” He added: “I shall talk to him of this, even at the risk of being kicked out of doors.”

He did. William was annoyed, but he must have realized there was little he could do. The position in England was very delicate and he had to consider the effect of his actions there. He had continually to remember that his claim to the throne came through me and that I should be the one who was welcomed, if that longed-for day came. It might seem a small matter to ask Dr. Ken to leave, but who could say what repercussions it would have?

William could accept the pinpricks of a little man like Dr. Ken for the sake of expediency.

Then something happened which demanded a great deal of courage on my part, and I think perhaps it was a turning point in my relationship with my husband. It could never have happened if William had been at court, but he was often absent and in another part of the country on state business, and this was one of those occasions.

I had noticed for some weeks that something was wrong with Jane Wroth. She was naturally a lively girl, given to frivolity. That was why the change was noticeable.

I sent for her. She came to me, quiet, subdued, and then I noticed the change in her figure.

“Jane,” I said, “you had better tell me what is wrong.”

She cast down her eyes and was silent.

I said: “It is rather noticeable. Is it not time that you were married?”

Poor Jane. She lifted her woebegone eyes to my face.

“I am afraid, Your Highness, it is not possible.”

“Why not? Is he married already?”

She shook her head.

“Then why not?”

“Because, Madam, of who he is.”

“Tell me,” I said.

She was silent and I said in my commanding tones: “Jane, I am asking you to tell me.”

“It is William Zulestein, Your Highness.”

Zulestein! This was William's kinsman, of whom he thought so highly. And who was Jane Wroth? Of no great family, she had been extremely lucky to get a place at court.

“How could this have happened?” A stupid question. How did such things happen? They happened all the time and often in most unexpected quarters. William would want Zulestein to make a good marriage, one which would be important to the House of Orange, for, illegitimate as he was, he was recognized as being a member of it. Oh, what a fool Jane had been!

“How could you have allowed it?” I cried. “So you were seduced by him. He could not have promised you marriage!”

“Yes,” she insisted, “he did.”

“So he promised. And now?”

“He says the Prince would never allow it. He would . . . but for that.”

“Are you sure he promised?”

“Yes, Madam, I am.”

“You should know better than to listen to promises. So . . . what will you do now?”

Jane looked at me piteously. She would have no choice. She would be sent home and her family would be filled with anger against her. She had spoilt her chances: with great difficulty a place had been found for her and she had behaved like a fool, allowing herself to be seduced, and was about to bring an unwanted infant into the world to ruin her prospects of a good marriage. Poor Jane! To go home, despised, taunted all her life for this misguided action of her youth.

I liked Jane and I felt very sorry for her.

“Jane,” I said, “I do not know what we can do.”

She began to weep silently. “I shall go away,” she sobbed. “I shall no longer serve Your Highness. I can't bear it.”

“Have you talked to Zulestein?”

She nodded.

“And he is prepared to desert you. Is that so?”

“He dare not do aught else. He says the Prince has made plans for him.”

“He did not tell you that before?”

“He said he loved me. We would have married . . . in spite of everything.”

“Jane,” I said. “Go to your room. I will think what must be done.”

She left me then. I was filled with pity for her and anger against this man who had thoughtlessly taken his pleasure and lied and cheated to get it.

Dr. Ken found me in a reflective mood. He asked if aught ailed me. I could see he was thinking that, as the Prince was absent, it could not be due to an unkind action on his part.

I said: “Dr. Ken, I am deeply disturbed. This is due to one of the maids of honor, Jane Wroth. She is with child and in great distress.”

“The man responsible is at court?”

“Yes.”

“Then he must marry her.”

“There is a little difficulty there. It is William Zulestein.”

“The Prince's kinsman. That has nothing to do with the matter. He has got the girl with child and he must marry her.”

“The Prince will not allow it.”

“This is a matter of right and wrong and this man's duty is clear. He has seduced this girl; she is with child and he must marry her.”

“I believe the Prince will not agree to that.”

Dr. Ken's smooth face was set in firm lines. “Then,” he said, “the Prince must disagree.”

“He will not allow it.”

“He is not here, so he cannot stop it; and when they are married there is nothing the Prince can do about it.”

“Do you mean you would . . . ?”

“Marry them? Indeed. Give me your blessing and I will do so.”

“But the Prince . . .”

“Your Highness, you are the Princess of Orange. The woman is in your service. It is a matter for you. It could happen that you will be Queen of England. The Prince would in that case only share with you as far as you would allow. You are inclined to permit this man to dominate you. At the moment you are merely the Princess of Orange and he is the Prince. But you are also heir to England. Do not allow yourself to be set aside. You should be strong. If this man is allowed to leave his promises unfulfilled, if that young woman is to go through life in shame because the man who sinned with her is allowed to shirk his duty, and if we do not do everything within our power to prevent this, we are neglecting our Christian duty. Pray for guidance and I will come to you tomorrow morning and we will make it clear to these erring young people what must be done.”

“But the Prince . . .” I began.

“This is not a matter for him. He is away. It is our duty to act without him.”

“I dare not.”

He smiled at me sadly. “Because he forgets your position; you must not.”

I said I would think of it.

And I did. All through the night I thought of his anger when he knew what we had done, being fully aware that it would have been against his will. Then I considered Jane, sent home in disgrace. It occurred to me that Zulestein might refuse to marry her even if Dr. Ken insisted that he should.

I am ashamed to say that I felt a glimmer of hope at this. It would be a way out of the dilemma. I realized then that I was a coward. I was afraid of William's wrath. I grappled with myself. I must remember my position. I thought of how his treatment of me had aroused the indignation of Dr. Ken . . . and others.

No, I would stand against him. If any other man had seduced a girl, after promising marriage, he would be made to keep his promise. So why not Zulestein?

I believed the man should marry Jane; and so did Dr. Ken.

I had made up my mind.

DR. KEN WAS DELIGHTED
when he knew my decision.

“You are doing what is right,” he told me. “God has guided you in this.”

I summoned Zulestein and when he arrived Dr. Ken and I were waiting for him.

He was not a young man, being some five years older than William, but he was very good-looking, with an imposing personality and an air of nobility, which perhaps he stressed somewhat because of his illegitimacy.

I could see that I should need all my newly acquired courage to deal with this man. But beside me stood Dr. Ken, one of the most formidable and eloquent preachers I had ever heard.

I began by telling him that I had seen Jane Wroth and knew of her condition and his part in bringing it about.

He was taken aback and at a loss for words.

Dr. Ken said: “The plain fact is that this young woman is about to bear your child. You promised her marriage and now that promise has been retracted. In view of what has happened, it is necessary for you to marry Jane Wroth without delay.”

Zulestein said: “I would do so if it were possible.”

“You are already married?” asked Dr. Ken.

“No.”

“Then there can be no reason why it is impossible for you to marry Jane Wroth.”

“You know of my connection with the House of Orange.”

“I know that your father was the bastard son of Henry Frederic, Prince of Orange,” said Dr. Ken.

“Then you will understand.”

“I fear I do not. If a man makes a promise of marriage, he must honor it, or in the eyes of God he is a cheat and a liar and there is no place for such in Heaven.”

Zulestein was beginning to realize the difficulty of his position. He turned to me.

“Your Highness will understand. The Prince wishes me to make a state marriage. It is already being discussed.”

I was fortified by the presence of Dr. Ken.

“It would have been before the result of your association with my maid of honor was known,” I said firmly. “This, of course, changed the situation. There is only one action open to you now. I am of the same opinion of Dr. Ken. There must be no further delay.”

“Madame . . . Your Highness, the Prince will be most displeased.”

“If the Prince is a man of honor, he should be more displeased by your failure in your duty,” said Dr. Ken.

“This concerns a lady in my household,” I put in, “and therefore it is a matter for me to decide. I cannot believe that a member of the House of Orange could fail in honor. I bid you give serious thought to this matter. Come to me tomorrow and give me your answer, and I pray that it will be the right and honorable one.”

Dr. Ken said: “I will come with you, my son, and we will pray together and ask God to guide your conscience.”

I have said that Dr. Ken was one of the most eloquent preachers I have ever heard, but I do not know exactly what he said to Zulestein. It may be that he convinced him that he would suffer eternal damnation if he did not marry Jane; perhaps Zulestein really loved her. In any case, he agreed to marry Jane and, without losing any time, Dr. Ken made hasty preparations.

It was in my private little chapel that Dr. Ken performed the ceremony and Jane Wroth became the wife of Zulestein.

WHEN WILLIAM RETURNED
and discovered what had happened he was astounded and his anger was great. I wondered what he said to Zulestein, who must have given him an account of what happened. When William came to me I saw that he had difficulty in controlling his rage. Inwardly I trembled, but I forced myself not to show my fear.

“Zulestein married to that girl!” cried William. “Who is she? Nothing . . . nobody! And he my kinsman! And you gave your consent to the match! Nay, encouraged it. Insisted on it.”

I heard myself say in a defiant voice: “It was a marriage which should have taken place months before.”

“Have you forgotten that he is a member of
my
family?”

“All the more reason why he should honor his commitments.”

I felt my courage waning and feared that at any moment I might break down and confess I was in the wrong. But something told me that I must be strong. If I allowed myself to be cowed, his contempt for me would be aroused. I had to be strong now. He dared not harm me. I was too important to his schemes.

I lifted my head and said: “I did what Dr. Ken and I believed to be right.”

“That man is at the heart of this. That meddler . . .”

“Dr. Ken is a good man,” I said. “He made Zulestein see where his duty lay.”

“You had the temerity . . .” He paused. I could see the disbelief in his face. He was thinking that I should never have acted so without Dr. Ken to persuade me.