The Merry Monarch's Wife by Jean Plaidy Page B

have many women to fawn on him. He was human. It was natural. And I was certain now that any amour of the past was over. We were married and he had shown well enough during the time we had been together that he loved me. He had said so many times.
    I had to be worldly. I had to understand. The past was over. I must not look back. Soon he would be with me and I should be reassured.
    Ignore her, my mother had said. Treat her as though she does not exist.
    What sound advice she always gave.
    I would forget what I had heard. There would no doubt be many stories about such a woman. It was no concern of mine that she had left her husband.
    Charles returned. It was wonderful to see him. His eyes shone with joy at the sight of me. He put his arms round me and picked me up. I was so small and light that it was easy for him.
    â€œWell,” he said. “Have you missed me?”
    â€œVery much,” I answered.
    â€œAnd I you…so much, my Catherine.”
    I felt wonderfully happy.
    We talked together. He said my English had certainly improved.
    â€œLady Suffolk has become my tutor.”
    â€œ
I
would be your tutor.”
    â€œBut when the master is away should not another take his place?”
    â€œNo one must ever take my place with you, Catherine.”
    â€œNor mine with you,” I added.
    â€œYou are my wife. Does that not mean something?”
    â€œIt means everything to me.”
    It was wonderful to be together. When we were about to retire for the night he took a paper from his pocket and said carelessly: “Here is a list of the ladies I have agreed shall be in your household.”
    I was about to glance at it when he took it from me and put it into a drawer.
    â€œLook at it tomorrow,” he said. “There is time for that later.” He was smiling. “We shall be leaving this place soon and you will need a household fitting for the Queen of England. I know these people well and you have yet to meet them so I can vouch for their suitability…and you know you can take my word. I want you to be well served, my love. So…leave it all to me.”
    I said I should be happy to do so.
    It was not until the following morning when I was alone that I remembered the paper in the drawer. I took it out and studied it.
    I felt faint, for the name at the top of the list was that of Lady Castlemaine.
    My hands were trembling. What could this mean? He had chosen this woman, who had been his mistress, and was now involved in some scandal, as one of my ladies-in-waiting!
    I could not understand what it meant. “Ignore her. Do not have her near you,” my mother had said.
    I would not. I took up my pen and scratched out her name.
    I sent for my secretary, Sir Richard Bellings, and said to him in Spanish, “Sir Richard, this is the suggested list of the ladies of my household. I have amended it. You will know where to take it.”
    â€œYes, Your Majesty,” he said and took the paper from me.
    I sat down. I felt dizziness coming over me and I thought I was going to faint.
    I sat there trembling, wondering what this could mean.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 
    CHARLES CAME TO ME. He dismissed the women who were with me and I knew what he wanted to talk about before he began.
    He said: “I see you have scratched out the name of Lady Castlemaine on the list I left for you.”
    â€œOh yes,” I said, speaking in Spanish. I was too emotional to think in English. “I could not have her in my household.”
    â€œI have selected her,” he said coolly. “I have promised her the place.”
    â€œHow could you do such a thing?”
    â€œMy dear Catherine, I am choosing those whom I think would serve you best.”
    Like most docile people, I am aroused to temper rarely, but when it is released it is apt to be more fierce than tempers which are allowed to show themselves more often. I felt angry now, and my anger was the greater because of the