The Governor of England. Bowen Marjorie
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Strafford was admitted, without any delay, into the private apartment of the Queen, where Henriette Marie sat with two ladies in a sumptuous simplicity and elegant seclusion, which was noticeable in the extreme richness and good taste of the apartment, in the attire of the Queen herself, which, free from all fopperies of fashion, was of an exceeding fineness and grace, and in her occupation, which was that of sewing figures in beads on a casket of white silk.
The chamber was so delicately scented with attar of roses and perfume of jasmine and cascarilla, so finely warmed with a fire of cedar-wood, that every breath drawn there was a delight; the window was shrouded by peach-coloured velvet curtains, and the light came from a suspended silver lamp the flame of it softened by a screen of rosy silk; on the wall hung mellowed and ancient French tapestries, heavily shot with gold and silver, and the inlaid floor was covered with silk carpets. The Queen wore a pale saffron-coloured gown, and about her elbows and shoulders hung quantities of exquisite lace fastened by loops of pearl.
At the entrance of the Countess, she very sweetly dismissed the ladies and smiled at her visitor, then continued her task, thoughtfully selecting the beads from an ivory tray and sewing them skilfully on to the thick white silk.
The Countess remained standing before the Queen. She was now shown to be a woman of a carriage of pride and fire, fair-haired and swift-moving, with a great expression of energy which did not alter her wholly feminine attraction.
"Your Majesty will forgive this uncourtly coming of mine," she said, "but I have it on good authority that this inquiry into Irish Affairs is but a covert attack on my Lord Strafford."
"Yea, most certainly," returned the Queen, raising her soft eyes to the breathless lady.
"I saw John Pym to-day," cried the Countess, "and methought he had an air of triumph; besides, would the very boys in the street dare shout at me unless my lord's fall were assured?"
She twisted her hands together and sank on to a brocade stool near the window. The Queen slightly lifted her shoulders and smiled. She bitterly detested the English, who in their turn loathed her, both for her nationality and her religion, and even for the name "Mary," which the King gave her, and which was for ever connected in the popular mind with Papistry and with two queens who had been enemies of England. Therefore she was well-used to unpopularity and that hatred of the crowd of which Lady Strafford to-day had had a first taste.
"Why discourage yourself about that, madam?" she asked. "These creatures are not to be regarded."
"The House of Commons is to be regarded," returned Lady Strafford.
She spoke, despite herself, in a tone of respect for the power that threatened her husband, and the Frenchwoman's smile deepened.
"How afraid you all are of this Parliament," she said.
"Has it not lately shown that it is something to be afraid of?" cried the Countess.
The Queen continued to carefully select the tiny glass beads and to carefully thread them on the long white silk thread. To the Countess, who had never loved her, this absorption, at such an hour, in an occupation so trivial, was exasperating.
"I have come to Your Majesty on matter of serious moment," she said, and she spoke as one who had a claim; her husband had rendered great services to the Crown, and held his lofty position more by his own genius than by the King's favour. "Yesterday I sent an express to York, beseeching my lord to stay there with the army, and to-day Mr. Holles, one of my kinsmen, hath gone on the same errand. I beseech Your Majesty to add your weight to these entreaties of mine, and to ask His Majesty to bid my lord stay where he is safe."
At this the Queen's lovely right hand stopped work, and lay slack on the white cover of the casket, and with the other she put back the fine ringlets of black hair from her brow and looked full and delicately at the Countess.
"Both the King and I," she returned gently, "wrote to my lord before that—ay, the day before, and were you more often at court, madame, you would have heard of it."
An eloquent flush bespoke the relief and gratitude of the Countess.
"Then he is safe!" she exclaimed. "At York, amid the army, who can touch him!"
The Queen laughed lightly.
"Dear lady," she said, "thy lord is no longer at York, but on his way to London. At least, if he be as loyal as I think he be."
"London?" repeated Lady Strafford, as if it were a word of terror. "London? my lord cometh?"
"On the bidding of His Majesty and myself," answered Henriette Marie.
The Countess rose, she pushed back the dull crimson hood from her fair curls, and looked the Queen straightly in the face.
"Wherefore have you bidden him to London, madame?" she asked.
"That he may answer the charges that will be brought against him," said the Queen.
"And you have persuaded him to this!" cried the Countess. "I did think that I might have counted you and His Majesty among my lord's friends!"
Henriette Marie picked up a knot of white silk and began to disentangle the twisted strands.
"The Earl hath His Majesty's assurances and mine, of friendship and protection," she said with dignity touched with coldness.
Lady Strafford stood silent, utterly dismayed and bewildered. It seemed to her incredible that the King should have asked his hated minister to come to the capital at the moment when the popular fury against him had reached full height and the Commons were on the eve of impeaching him. She did not, could not, doubt that the King would wish to protect his favourite, but she felt an awful doubt as to his power. Had he not been forced to call the Parliament at the demand of the people?—was it not to please them that he had sent for the Earl?—so what else might he not consent to when driven into a corner!
The Countess shuddered; she thought of the angry crowd who had chased Laud from Lambeth Palace, who daily hooted at and insulted her when she went abroad, of the useless train-bands, of the general bottomless confusion and tumult, and she saw before her with a horrid vividness, the calm, weary face of John Pym, the man who led the Commons.
The Queen surveyed her narrowly, and observed the doubt and terror in her face.
"Are you afraid?" she asked. "Is it possible you think the King cannot protect his friends?"
Lady Strafford looked at the beautiful frail woman in her lace and silk who was so delicate, so charming, so gay, and who had more power over the King than his own conscience, and her heart gave a sick swerve. She never had, never could, wholly trust the French Papist Queen, for she was herself too wholly open and English in her nature.
Henriette Marie rose, and the jasmine perfume was stirred by the shaking of her garments.
"Is it not better," she said, with a lovely, tender smile, "that Lord Strafford should come here and face his enemies, than that he should lurk in York among his soldiers as if he feared what creatures like this Pym could do?"
"Madame," returned Lady Strafford, through white lips, "no one would ever think the Earl feared his enemies. But to come to London now is not courage but folly."
"It is obedience to the King's wishes," said the Queen, and a haughty fire sparkled in her dark liquid eyes.
"The King," returned the Countess, "asketh too much from his servant, by Heaven, madame! Those who love my lord would see him stay at York—"
"And those who love the King would obey him," flashed Henriette Marie.
The Countess controlled herself and swept a curtsey.
"I take my leave," she said. "May Your Majesty hold as ever sacred the promises with which you have brought my lord in among those who madden to destroy him! As for me, my heart is fallen low. Madame, a good night."
"I do forgive thy boldness for the sake of thy anxiety," said the Queen