Royal Sisters: The Story of the Daughters of James II

They were both trembling and on the verge of tears. Only they could know what pain it had caused them to inflict suffering on their beloved boy; they could only bring themselves to do it because they earnestly believed it was for his own good.

A gentle scratching on the door of Elizabeth Villiers’ chamber made her start up in delight. It was the well-remembered signal of happier days.

She ran to the door and flung it open.

“William!” she whispered.

He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him before throwing off the cloak which had completely concealed him.

“I knew you would come,” she cried, almost hysterically. “I knew it.”

“It must not be known that I am here,” he said.

Her spirits sank; he was different—changed toward her. He had surely come to tell her that this was an end of their relationship. How incongruous! The end … now that his wife was dead! All those years they had met clandestinely and he, the stern Calanist, had imperiled his soul by committing adultery for her sake; and now that there would no longer be the need for such sin, he had come to tell her that the relationship was over.

“It has been so long,” she murmured. “I have been so unhappy.”

“I found it long,” he repeated. “I too have been unhappy.”

“And now?”

“I have given a promise to Tenison.”

“But … why?”

“There was a letter she wrote—two letters, one to me, one to the Archbishop. It concerned us. She asked me to end our relationship; and she asked Tenison to extract the promise from me.”

“She would rule you from the grave as she never could in life,” said Elizabeth bitterly.

“I will not be ruled.”

Her smile had become radiant, but he would not look at her.

“Do not imagine,” he went on, “that I have not thought of you over this long time.”

“This long, long time,” she murmured.

“I have thought of ways … and means … and this is what I plan. We must not meet …”

He saw the despair in her face and he was as delighted with her as he had been when he had first discovered the nature of her feeling for him.

“… in England,” he went on. “I will keep my promise. But there is Holland.”

She looked puzzled and he took a step toward her as though to lay his hands on her, but he stopped himself.

“I have decided that you shall have a husband, a husband will give you a position worthy of you.”

“And you?” she asked.

“I shall be often in Holland; you and your husband shall accompany me there; and there it shall be as it was in the past.”

“I see.”

“This pleases you?”

“I accept as always Your Majesty’s commands,” she answered.

How like her! So clever, and yet so amenable. It had always been so; she had always given him what he needed. He was not a sensual man and the sexual act would never be of the utmost importance to him. He could contemplate this separation without despair; but he would not have her believe that he had deserted her.

He said swiftly: “I am bestowing on you the private estates of James II in Ireland.”

She caught her breath; she would be a rich woman in her own right.

“And,” went on William, “when we have decided on your husband, rest assured I shall give him an earldom.”

She lowered her eyes so that he might not see her exultation.

All her efforts had not been in vain.

Lewis Jenkins stood by the bed of his little master and he was smiling broadly.

“This is the best day of the year,” he announced.

Gloucester sat up in bed and demanded to know why.

“St. David’s day, the day of the Welsh, and I hope Your Highness will wear the leek in his hat today.”

“Well, Jenkins, as I should be the Prince of Wales if I had my rights I will certainly wear the leek.”