“So do I,” said Roxhythe.
There the matter ended.
A few days later came the Duke of York. When he heard that Charles had given way to Louis he was first furious and then despairing. He implored his brother to recall the promise; he uttered solemn warnings and urgent pleas. To all of which Charles smiled and smiled again.
Madame at once perceived James’ discontent. As soon as she could conveniently do so she taxed him with it. He came into the room one evening when she was seated with Roxhythe at the window, watching the bonfires in the distance. When the Duke entered Madame shot a commanding glance at her companion. My lord bowed and sauntered out.
James sat down heavily. After a moment Madame went to him and laid a caressing hand on his arm.
“What is it, James? There is something you do not like?”
The Duke covered her hand with his.
“I am torn this way and that, Henriette. I scarce know myself what ails me.”
She sat down beside him.
“Why are you so torn, mon ami? Is it this bond? You still have misgivings?”
“Deep misgivings. This secrecy likes me not at all. It is as though we were thieves—in the night.”
She was silent. There was nothing to say.
“I want this alliance,” he continued sombrely. “I have prayed for it. But not this way.”
“How then would you have it?”
“Openly. With the consent of Parliament.”
“They would never consent.”
“They might be compelled. There is the army.”
“It is not practicable,” she answered. “You know it.”
He brushed his hand to and fro across the table.
“Henriette, what we do is not right! It is not honourable! For Kings to traffic secretly with one another—it revolts me!”
Again she was silent.
“And now you have induced Charles to go to war with Holland before he declares himself Catholic!”
“James, believe me, it is impossible for Charles to do that now. He dare not. The time is not yet.”
“You are all the same,” said the Duke bitterly. “ ‘The time is not yet.’ Wait, wait, wait, until it is too late! I tell you I am sick unto death of the whole affair.”
“Then leave it to us, James! Charles is acting for the best, as am I. Is it only this question of Catholicism that troubles you?” Her eyes searched his face.
“No,” said James. “I fear a trap.”
“Who would be likely to lay traps for you?”
He returned her glance squarely.
“Louis.”
Madame took his hands.
“I swear to you there is no such thing.”
“You may not know.”
“If there were a trap Charles had been the first to see it,” she said.
James’s lip curled scornfully, and a little sadly.
“Charles thinks of naught save money and women. He is careless—blind.”
“You misjudge him,” she answered. “Charles is no fool.”
He shook his head wearily.
“I do not understand him. I never have understood him. Great issues weigh with him not at all; he spends his days idling—and making love.”
“You do not know,” she said quietly.
“It may be that.” An angry light came into his eyes. “He does not give me his confidence! He laughs at me, and fences when I question him. All his confidence goes to that man!” He jerked his head towards the door.
“Roxhythe?” she asked, watching him.
His hand clenched slowly.
“Ay, Roxhythe. That impudent poseur! That court-darling! Roxhythe is never from his side. He employs him always—tells him his whole mind. Oh, they are fitly matched! Both are without honour! without decency!”
“Don’t speak so loud. Remember, Charles is the King.”
“A pretty King!” he replied bitterly. “He cares for naught save his own pleasures. Do you think he enters into this treaty from any sense of patriotism? He does not! He sees a means whereby to gain money! Money that he will squander on his women and his playthings! He and his favourite! Oh, they are a fit couple! Roxhythe abets him in his extravagance! He panders to his vanity! I tell you that man is not to be trusted! He works only for himself.”
“No. He works for the King. Never forget that, James. To that one man I believe he will always be loyal. Why do you so dislike him?”
James rose jerkily to his feet, scraping his chair back across the wooden floor.
“Because I am jealous of him,” he grated; “I admit it freely! He hath the place that should be mine! He hath the King his ear. There is nothing Charles does that Roxhythe does not know. There are many things that I know not of!”
“ ’Sh! What reason have you for saying that?”
He paced up and down the room.
“I have eyes. I am not the fool Charles thinks me. I know that he plots behind my back. Oh, I’ve no proofs! But I know for all that.”
Madame led him back to his seat.
“James, you are speaking wildly. Your jealousy has carried you away. Charles has no secrets from you, I’ll swear. You should not make an enemy of Roxhythe for so foolish a reason.” So she chided him, her hand in his.
“Ay, that is it,” he nodded. “I should not make an enemy of so powerful a man. I, the King’s brother! Cordieu, things have come to a pretty pass!”
“Oh fie! You overrate Roxhythe his influence. You know that you stand first with the King.”
“I would it were so,” he answered, leaning his head in his hand.
“It is so. Why, James, to what are you descended that you stoop to be jealous of a courtier?”
He sat up.
“I am overwrought. I am not jealous of him. I do but mistrust him. This affair is preying on my nerves till I do not know what I am saying. Forget it, Henriette!”
“It is forgotten,” she assured him. “And James! Put all thoughts of traps and false dealings out of your head. I, Henrietta Stuart, swear that there is no such thing.”
He smiled up at her, his whole face softened.
“I’d not accuse you of false dealing, child.”
She patted his cheek.
“There! Now you are sensible! Another thing I’ll tell you: Charles is not so soulless
