There followed a conference. The Duke of Buckingham seemed to welcome a little delay, which I was sure had something to do with his pursuit of the Queen, and he said there was no need for great haste. He would send messengers to the King to explain why our progress was interrupted. He was of the opinion that we should not proceed without the Queen Mother, for we had already shed the King on the way and it would seem as though the journey were ill-fated if we had to go on without another such important member of the party.

The Earl of Holland warmly agreed with this. Their reasons were identical, but the Duke of Buckingham’s were more urgent than those of the Earl of Holland for the latter’s mistress would accompany the party to England so he would not be deprived of her company for some time. It was different with Buckingham; the Queen would leave us when we sailed, and he still had his courting to do, it seemed.

“At least,” commented Mamie, “we hope so. I would not like to think that the royal House of France might have a little cuckoo in the nest…even though the little bird had the blood of such a noble Duke.”

“For shame!” I cried.

And she laughed at me. Her attitude had changed since “my marriage.” She referred to me often as “Your Majesty” and “the Queen,” and she behaved as though I had suddenly become experienced of the world, which was far from the truth of course.

However we stayed at Amiens and, without the strict supervision of the Queen Mother, morals became more lax than usual.

Ladies and gentlemen paired off and not always with their legal partners. We were lodged in a large mansion surrounding which were beautiful grounds and in which there was a walled garden. It was rather overgrown but there were paths through the trees, and it soon became the favorite haunt of lovers.

One of my mother’s elderly women brought this to her notice and as a result orders were given that this garden should be kept locked at night. This could be quite easily managed for there was a gate leading to it. The key of the garden was left with the Captain of the Guard, who was ordered to make sure it was locked at dusk and not opened until the morning.

I did not know what happened exactly, but it appeared that one night the Queen with some of her ladies ordered the Captain of the Guard to give her the key of the garden. He did not know what to do. The Queen Mother had said he was to keep it in his possession, but here was the Queen ordering it to be given up. Anne cajoled—she could be very persuasive—she threatened and she could be ominous. Poor man, he did what most men would have done in the circumstances; he gave up the key.

Several ladies with their gallants were in the garden that night and among them was the mischievous Duchesse de Chevreuse with the Earl of Holland. In fact it was she who had put the idea of getting the key into Anne’s head. The Duchesse was a woman who lived dangerously, and like so many of her kind, not content with going the way she wanted to, she was anxious that others should follow her example. I believed she had urged the Queen to encourage Buckingham while her lover Holland did all he could to help the Duke to success with the Queen.

I was not present on this occasion, of course. Why should I want to walk in the darkening gardens? I was in my bed, so only heard of the incident from my usual source; but I could be sure Mamie would get the entire story.

“It was like this,” she said. “The ladies and gentlemen were in the garden walking through the paths to sequestered spots where they settled down to rest for a while. The Queen soon discovered that the Duke of Buckingham was her companion. Imagine them…wandering in the darkness. He would put his arm through hers and tell her how beautiful she was and mention that it was a great shame that the King should be so neglectful and seem unaware of her dazzling charms.”

“Anne would like to hear that,” I commented.

“Most young people would—particularly those who have an indifferent husband. The Queen is very young and my Lord Buckingham…well, he is not so young. He is thirty-three if he is a day and experienced in all ways of making love, so I have heard. Therefore one would have thought he would have been more subtle on this occasion. He had misjudged his…I was going to say victim…but perhaps it is lèse majesté to talk thus of the Queen.”

“Oh, get on with the story,” I cried impatiently.

“Well, suddenly a shrill scream rent the air. Imagine it! A moment of silence and then all the attendants running to the spot where the Queen stood…wide-eyed, hands across her breast as though to protect herself…and standing close by looking as near sheepish as such an arrogant Duke could look…my Lord Buckingham.”

“What did it mean?” I asked.

“It could mean only one thing. Our Duke made a mistake. He must have attempted to force his attentions on the Queen. He did not realize that all she wanted was words…gestures…certainly not actions. I will tell Your Majesty something: This will be the end of that little affair. Perhaps it is as well that it was only a little one. Queens, Your Majesty, must be beyond reproach.”

The next day everyone was talking about the scream in the garden. I was glad no one mentioned it to my mother. I wondered what would have happened to the Captain of the Guard who had relinquished the key if she had known.

My mother’s health improved a little but her doctors thought that the journey to Calais would be too tiring for her and bring on a recurrence of her malady so it was decided that she should come no farther. Gaston was the only member of my family who would go with me until I left French soil.

Our waiting in Amiens had therefore been unnecessary for my mother rose from her sick bed and accompanied the party through the town and then took her leave of us.

She embraced me with what seemed like real affection on parting. She told me that her thoughts would always be with me and she would follow my progress with the utmost attention. She entreated me to be a good wife and she trusted I would bear many children. I must always remember that I was royal—the daughter of a King and Queen of France. I must never forget the country of my birth, and there were no matters as important as my Faith and my royalty. I was going to a heretic land. God had selected me as he had St. Paul and St. Peter. I was to carry on with my duty and never cease until my husband and the whole of England were saved for the Truth.

It seemed a daunting task, but I promised that I would do what I could and would always remember my Faith, my loyalty and my country.

As she embraced me she thrust a letter into my hands.

That night I read the letter. It was long and it stressed her love for me. She reminded me that I had lost my earthly father and only had God for my father now. I must never forget what I owed Him. He had given me to a great King and had sent me to England where He would require my services, and this would mean that, through what I did there, I could attain eternal salvation.

“Remember that you are a daughter of the Church by baptism and that it is indeed the first and highest rank which you have or ever will have, since it is this which will give you your entrance into Heaven…. Be, after the example of St. Louis from whom you are descended, firm and zealous for religion, which you have been taught and for which your royal and holy ancestor exposed his life. Never listen to or suffer to be said in your presence aught in contradiction to your belief in God….”

I read and reread that letter. I knew what was expected of me. I was going to a strange country. I was going to a husband whom I must strive to bring to the true Faith. I had a great responsibility.

As I read the letter I swore to God and to myself that I would do everything in my power to bring the true Faith to England.

The next night news was brought to us that there was plague at Calais and it would be dangerous for us to go there, so we must divert our course to Boulogne.

Before we could set out next morning, the Duke of Buckingham came to me in a state of great urgency.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “I have this morning received communications from King Charles. It will be necessary for me to return to Amiens that I may present these papers to the Queen Mother.”

I was very well aware that he had received no papers, and I did in fact confirm this later when I discovered there had been no messenger from England. But Anne had stayed behind in Amiens with my mother and for that reason he wanted to go back to see her before he left for England.

“You must admit,” said Mamie, “that our Duke is no laggard when it comes to love.”

I was angry at the delay. It seemed that our journey was ill-fated. First there was my brother’s ill health, then my mother’s, and after that, plague at Calais, and now Buckingham was darting off to suit his whims.

It was too much to be endured.

I abused Buckingham in no quiet voice and it was some time before I would listen to Mamie’s pleas to calm myself.

Then I began to wonder whether I was in any great hurry to leave my native land, and the enormity of what was happening to me was brought home to me. I felt there was a vague menace in the air. I was going into a strange land among strangers.

So when Buckingham did return I was not so very eager to resume our journey, for every day…every hour that passed carried me farther away from the life I had known.

At length we came to Boulogne. The ship was waiting for us and as I stepped aboard there was a discharge of ordnance to mark the significance of the occasion. Mamie was close beside me. She smiled at me reassuringly.