I was right. Not that there was much I could do; and the effect of this was a near quarrel between Charles and myself.

Fontenay-Mareuil was very haughty. He admitted at once that it was on his orders that de Jars’s chambers had been ransacked and his papers removed.

“This is stealing,” I cried out.

“Your Majesty,” replied the ambassador, turning to me and bowing, “I am in the service of his Gracious Majesty, King Louis, and it is on his orders that I investigate the actions of the Chevalier de Jars.”

Charles nodded, seeing the truth of this.

“I have therefore removed the Chevalier’s papers,” went on Fontenay-Mareuil, “and in view of the fact that he is now without them, it will be necessary for him to return to France.”

“For what reason?” I demanded.

“That, Your Majesty, will need to be discovered.”

He then asked Charles if anything more was required of him.

When he had gone I turned to my husband. “You are not going to let him tell lies about the Chevalier. He is a friend of mine.”

Charles spoke tenderly. “Oh, I know he dances very well and is a merry companion, but if he is working against his King he must answer for his actions.”

“But he is my friend.”

“He is first the subject of the King of France.”

“Does this mean he will be sent back to France?”

“He cannot stay here if he has no papers.”

“Why not?”

“Because they have been removed by the ambassador and I have no doubt that in a few days we shall hear from your brother that the Chevalier is to return to France.”

I begged and pleaded, but Charles said that much as he wanted to give me all I desired he could not interfere with matters of state, particularly between a King and a subject of another country.

“It is my country,” I cried.

But he reminded me that I was now English.

I felt my temper rising, but Charles looked so distressed, and I did not want to do anything to spoil our happy life together so I curbed my irritation and made up my mind that I would be wiser to be silent as long as I did everything I could to help my dear friend.

But there was little I could do, for within a week or so the Chevalier received orders from my brother to return to France. I was very worried about him for I was certain that the odious Fontenay-Mareuil would have told tales about him.

I was right for as soon as the Chevalier set foot in Paris he was arrested and sent to prison.

After that there was a series of arrests. Châteauneuf was sent to Angoulême and kept there; even the frivolous Duchesse de Chevreuse, who I believe had numbered Châteauneuf among her admirers, was sent into retirement. Not that she endured it long for in due course we heard that she had captivated her guards and with their help, dressed as a man, she escaped into Spain.

But that was later. Meanwhile I had to think of my dear Chevalier de Jars.

This was where the trouble started for I wrote to my brother, begging him to release the Chevalier and assuring him that the young man had never been anything but a good friend to France. Unfortunately Weston’s son, Jerome, was acting as a courier and had been sent to Paris with important papers to be delivered to Louis and on his way back to England with further communications he happened to spend the night at an inn where the courier taking letters to Paris was staying. They fell into conversation and Jerome, who took his duties very seriously and, as the son of his father, was well aware of plots against him, thought he was within his rights to examine the letters which were being taken to France.

Thus it was that he came across the one which I had written to my brother and another written by Lord Holland. These were private letters and the custom was to send them separately; and the fact that they were in the diplomatic bag raised the officious Jerome Weston’s suspicions. He took the letters and brought them back to England to present to the King.

It was not difficult to imagine my fury when I heard what had happened. Charles did his best to restrain me, but this time he did find it impossible.

“It is an insult,” I cried. “How dare this…upstart treat me like this? Am I the Queen or am I not?”

Charles tried to calm me. “He was doing what he thought was his duty.”

“His duty…to insult me!”

“It was not intended to be an insult. Private letters should not be put into the diplomatic bag. Don’t you see that if someone wanted to make mischief how easily it could be done? There has to be a close watch on this. All young Weston was doing was his duty.”

“Lord Holland is furious,” I cried. “He will do that young man an injury.”

“He will be foolish if he does for that would be an offense whereas Jerome Weston has committed none.”

I was exasperated and left him. I dared not trust myself to stay longer for I should have started to abuse Charles himself very soon.

I went to my own apartments. Lucy was there with Eleanor Villiers, a niece of Buckingham, who had joined the ladies of my bedchamber some little time before.

I told them what had happened and they both expressed their astonishment that young Jerome Weston could have behaved so; that comforted me a little.

It was Eleanor Villiers who brought the news to me. She seemed very upset.

“Henry Jermyn has been arrested,” she said.

“Henry Jermyn! But why?”

“Holland challenged young Jerome Weston to a duel because he said he had insulted you and himself. Henry delivered the challenge and that is an offense.”

“What of Holland?”

“He is also arrested.”

I said: “I will see the King at once.”

I found Charles with some of his ministers and they were already discussing the matter which had sprung up between Holland and the Westons involving Henry Jermyn.

“I must see you at once,” I said, glancing haughtily at the ministers, and adding: “Alone.”

I could see that they thought Charles a most uxorious husband for he immediately told them he would see them later.

They left and I burst out: “I have just heard that Henry Jermyn has been arrested and Lord Holland with him.”

“That is so,” said the King.

“But why?”

“For disobeying the law. They know dueling is forbidden and any connected with it are guilty of breaking that law.”

I said “Holland has challenged young Weston. But why Henry Jermyn….”

“I will not allow the laws to be broken.”

“He is my friend.”

“My dearest, even your friends are not friends of the crown if they break the laws.”

“This is a plot.”

“I think,” said Charles, “that there is a plot and it is directed against my Treasurer. The young man did right to intercept the letters. He suspects that some people are working against his father and I am of the opinion that he may be right. He was acting within his duties in searching the diplomatic bags. You must understand that, my loved one. We cannot have plots within our midst and we must be ever watchful of those who foment them.”

“Do you mean that Holland and Jermyn will be punished?”

“They must answer to the law. There have been murmurings against the Treasurer, who is a good and honest man. He is careful with our money and that is what we need.”

“So you are determined to be on his side!”

“My dear, I am on the side of right.”

I could see that no amount of pleading could change him. He was the most obstinate man alive and while he thought he was doing what was right he would continue to do it.

He explained to me that it was offensive that a member of his council—as Holland was—should send a challenge to a man in the King’s service who was merely carrying out his duties.

Of course neither offense was very great and all that happened was that Holland was confined for a while to his house in Kensington and Henry Jermyn was sent away from the Court for a short time to stay in a private house.

It was typical of both men that they should make the most of their captivity. Holland gave parties and it was said that he attracted all the most amusing people from Court to visit him. I heard that his parties were the most exciting thing that was happening. The Court certainly seemed a little dull without those two. I particularly missed Henry Jermyn. I did not realize how much he had amused me until I had lost his company.

Charles had become more friendly than ever with the Earl of Portland since the incident and with his son—the little spy, I called him. They were both high in Charles’s favor.

I said to Charles, rather bitterly: “It is clear that you will never listen to my desires. You punish my friends and cherish my enemies.”

“You rule my heart,” said Charles, who could be very sentimental at times, “but, my dearest love, because God made me King I have to rule this kingdom. Those whom you think are your friends are not truly so for if they work against me and my ministers they cannot be mine, and you and I are as one, and therefore what is evil for me is evil for you also.”

I was so happy with Charles and the babies that I did not really want anything changed; but I did think a great deal about Holland and Henry Jermyn, and after a few weeks, because I missed them so much, Charles said they could return to Court. So they came back and I was delighted. But Charles was cool to them both and his trust in the Earl of Portland seemed not to have decreased.

Charles said that Holland was unreliable and I should not become too friendly with him. I reminded him that he had arranged our marriage and I added: “He will always have a special place in my regard because he did that.”