He wanted me to know that he was determined to be my friend and if he could be of service to me at any time I must tell him, for nothing would delight him more than to help. I wanted him to sit beside me, but he said he could not do so because that was his brother’s place. He would sit in a chair without a canopy.

I had not expected such rigid regard for etiquette in England and think, from what I gathered afterward, that it was just the Duke’s way of showing he wanted to honor me.

When he left he brushed aside ceremony and remarked that I did not do justice to my rank, to which I replied that I acted out of affection, and I could see that this pleased him.

So my meeting with my brother-in-law was most satisfactory.

Before he left, he presented to me the Earl of Chesterfield and the Duke of Ormonde, with other gentlemen who had accompanied him. All were most effusive in their welcome and, with the horrors of the sea voyage behind me, my spirits were considerably lifted.

Shortly after the Duke had left, Donna Maria said she was feeling unwell. I insisted that she went to bed immediately, and to my surprise she did not protest. So I guessed that she was indeed ill, for nothing else would have induced her to leave my side at such a time.

When we reached Portsmouth she was so ill that she could not be with me, and I was left to Donna Elvira and my ladies-in-waiting.

I was taken to the King’s house in Portsmouth where the Duchess of Suffolk, who was to be Mistress of the Stole, was waiting to be received by me. She appeared to be a very pleasant woman, although we could not understand each other very well.

Donna Maria was suffering from a feverish cold and was not seriously ill, which was comforting; and I settled down to await the coming of the King.

My only regret was that my mother was not here with me. How gratified she would have been by the welcome I had received! She would be thinking of me now, I knew. We were separated, but at least she had acheved her ambition; and in such circumstances it could not be otherwise. I was as good as married to the King of England and the Spanish would not dare attack Portugal now that England was brought closer to us by this alliance.

If only she could be with me now, what great happiness I should know!

There was consternation when, a few days after my arrival in Portsmouth, I caught Donna Maria’s cold. I was sneezing and had a slight fever. The doctors were called and they said I must keep to my bed.

Several days had passed since my arrival and I had not yet seen the King. He was detained in London on urgent business, I was told. I was a little uneasy that he should be delayed so long. It might seem that he was not very eager to see me. I wondered what the business in London could be which was so urgent. Matters of state, of course.

It was five days after my arrival in Portsmouth when he came. I was in bed. The fever had subsided but the cold still persisted.

Donna Maria, now recovered, said: “You must not leave your bed, and one thing is certain, the King must not see you in it.”

“He will expect to see me when he arrives.”

“If he is a sensible and right-minded man, he will realize the impropriety of seeing you at such a time.”

I wondered. I had already noticed that formality was not so rigidly insisted on here as it was in Portugal. It existed, of course, but the English had a habit of discarding certain things if they become inconvenient.

He arrived. I heard the commotion below. Donna Maria and Donna Elvira were standing at the door like two angels with flaming swords guarding Eden.

Then I heard a voice — the most musical I had ever heard. It was soft and caressing, though I could not understand the words which were spoken.

The Earl of Sandwich was there.

He said in Spanish that the King had arrived and wished to see the Queen.

Donna Maria replied that the Queen was indisposed.

“The King will see her,” replied the Earl. “He has traveled from London for this.”

Donna Maria was about to protest, but with a courtly gesture, the Earl led her to one side. And there was the King.

I felt myself flushing and trying to shrink below the bedclothes, fearful that, unadorned as I was, he should find me ill-favored.

He came to the bed. He had taken off his plumed hat and flung it onto a chair. He was smiling and he was all that I had dreamed him to be. One was immediately aware of his height, and his dark face with the heavy-lidded eyes. They sparkled with merriment and friendliness. Yet there was a certain gentleness about him. He was swarthy, yes, that was true enough. He was quite unlike the fair-skinned Englishmen whom I had met so far. In fact, he was different from anyone I had ever seen before. He may not have had perfect features, but he had something far more attractive. It was an excessive and indefinable charm. For so long I had created an image — now here was the embodiment of my ideal.

He sat on the bed and took my hand. He kissed it, looking up into my face as he did so.

He spoke in English and then, laughing, slipped into Spanish.

“The Spaniards have a use then,” he said. “They gave us a language which we both understand. My little wife, how it delights me to see you! But I am sad that you should be indisposed. But you will be well soon. Your doctors have told me that. It is nothing much…just a little inconvenience. That makes me very happy.”

“You are kind,” I said.

“Kind?” He laughed. “And to whom should I be kind if not to my Queen? Life is going to be good. I can see that you and I will be of one mind. We shall be merry together. The sea was not good to you, they tell me. That grieved me much. And now you are here, all shall be well from now on. How I have longed to see you!”

It did not occur to me until later — such was the magic of his presence — that if he had so longed to see me, he need not have waited five days before doing so. But I was to discover that, while one was with Charles, he beguiled one into believing him. Or perhaps one did so because one wanted to.

“As soon as you are well, we shall be married,” he said.

He saw the furrow in my brow and asked me in a tender voice if anything worried me.

With a certain apprehension, I broached the subject which was uppermost in my mind. Perhaps he was not the one to whom I should have spoken, but there was a kindliness in him and I sensed he would be tolerant and understand a point of view which might not be his own. I should certainly not have mentioned it on our first meeting, but I had already tried to speak of it to Don Francisco, who had brushed it aside.

I said: “There is something, Your Majesty.”

He took my hand. “Charles…” he said reproachfully, and I immediately felt able to confide in him.

“It is the ceremony…”

“Oh, the ceremony! What fuss! For myself, I could happily dispense with such encumbrances.”

“Your Majesty…Charles…I could not be happy if there was not a Catholic ceremony.”

For a moment he dropped his bantering mood. Then he smiled and said: “You need have no fear. Our marriage will be regarded throughout the world as a true marriage.”

“It would not be so to me,” I said.

“Ah,” he replied. “They have made an ardent papist of you, have they? Papists are so earnest.” He laughed. “You remind me of my mother. You and she will be good friends when you meet, I’ll swear. As for this Catholic ceremony…you see, my dear, you are Queen of this country and you must be married according to the religious observances of the place. But you say you will not be happy…and I cannot allow you to be unhappy. I will tell you how we will resolve this matter. There shall be a ceremony here in this bedchamber. It shall be as you wish, and the other one will take place as arranged on the same day. It means you will have to marry me twice. Could you bear that?”

I felt my lips tremble. I was going to weep because I was so touched, so happy.

“You are all that I hoped for…and all that I dreamed,” I said emotionally.

He looked at me in mock dismay. “Do not have too good an opinion of me, I beg you. I fear you will find me a somewhat sinful fellow.”

“Oh no. You are the kindest and best man in the world.”

He leaned toward me and kissed my cheek. He was sober suddenly. He said: “You shame me.” Then he was merry again. His gravity seemed always to be fleeting, as though his gaiety was waiting impatiently to break in on it.

“So,” he went on, “that little matter is taken care of. There is nothing now for you to be anxious about. All you have to do is get well. I am impatient for these ceremonies to be over.”

When he left me, I lay back in a daze of happiness.

Donna Maria came in and looked at me.

“I never heard of such,” she was muttering. “I can guess what your mother would say if she knew that a man not yet your husband had visited you in your bedchamber…and you abed!”

I pulled the bedclothes up to hide my face and stifle my laughter.

It was the laughter of happiness as much as amusement.


* * *

I RECOVERED ALMOST IMMEDIATELY and it was arranged that the ceremony should take place without delay.

There was a great deal of secrecy about the Catholic nuptials, and I realized what a concession it was that it should have been allowed to take place.

It was to be held in my bedchamber. The Lord Aubigny, an almoner of Queen Henrietta Maria, was to perform the ceremony. Francisco de Mello was to be there with three of his trusted servants, and Donnas Maria and Elvira. The only other witness was to be the Duke of York, and I was pleased to see him again. He had made me feel so welcome on my arrival and he had seemed sympathetic and to understand my urgent desire that it should take place.