I was shocked. I could not stop thinking of the grief my father and stepmother would be suffering at this moment.

Perhaps he noticed this, for he laid a hand on my shoulder.

“You must not grieve,” he said in a more gentle tone than he had ever used to me before. “It may be that they will have more sons.”

But the smile lingered about his lips and I was sure he was convinced they never would. The way was clear. My father would have the throne, but for how long? The English would never accept a Catholic monarch. No wonder he felt benevolent toward me.

That night he came to supper. There was a change in him. He was less impatient, less critical.

He was implying that the marriage had been worthwhile after all.


* * *

I THOUGHT A GOOD DEAL about William. In fact, he was not often out of my thoughts. He was a strange man, so aloof that I felt I should never know him. He had betrayed his feelings a little over the death of my little half-brother, but that had not surprised me. Quite clearly he had no affection for me, though he had a deep regard for my position. He thought I was a silly young girl. He had made that perfectly clear, and never more so than during those periods of “duty.”

I sometimes had a conventional idea that, since he was my husband, I should try to love him. I began to make excuses for him. I pictured what his childhood must have been like, and I compared it with my happy one. Sometimes I felt that if I had not had such devoted parents, and particularly a doting father, I might have been able to understand him more readily.

He had been born fatherless and his mother had died when he was young. All through his childhood he had been taught that it was his duty to serve his country and that he must regain the title of Stadholder.

I had learned something of his country’s turbulent history, of the Spanish oppression, of his great ancestor, William the Silent, who had stood out against the evils of the Spanish Inquisition. William the Silent must have been rather like William himself. They were great men; they were serious men — unlike my uncle Charles and the men of Whitehall and St. James’s, whose main interest was the pursuit of pleasure.

I learned about the de Witts who had governed the country until some six years before, when the French King had invaded the country and William had declared he would fight to the last ditch and never give in.

He was a great soldier and a great statesman, and the people of Holland recognized in him another William the Silent. I heard how they had rallied to him, the Stadholder, and had demonstrated against John and Cornelius de Witt, storming their house, dragging them out and subjecting them to violent deaths by tearing them to pieces in the street.

It was horrible, but so much that was horrible happened to people. William had saved his country and was now recognized throughout Europe as one of the most able statesmen — important enough to marry the daughter of James, Duke of York, heiress to England — himself in line to the throne.

The three crowns! I thought: did he believe in the sign at his birth? I imagined he was no visionary, but it is easy to believe in prophecies which promise us great things, and his whole life had been molded to one aim. Ambition. And the crown of England had been promised him at this birth. For that, it was worth marrying a foolish girl for whom he could feel only contempt.

I was beginning to understand William and it helped to change my feelings toward him in some measure. I still dreaded his coming, but I understood. He could not feel warmth for anyone. He had not been brought up to love.

And then I had a surprise.

I had always known that William Bentinck was a greatly respected associate of his, but I had not realized how close.

One day from my window I saw William riding away from the House in the Woods after one of our nights together, which always left me a little shaken, although I had come to accept their inevitability. William Bentinck came riding toward the palace. He had, I guessed, some message for William. He had almost reached him when the horse shied and Bentinck was thrown from the saddle.

I caught my breath in horror, but the horse had stood quite still and Bentinck hastily picked himself up. It was clear that he was unhurt. It was just a slight mishap. The horse must have slipped over a stone and Bentinck had slid quite gently out of the saddle.

It was what happened afterward that amazed me. William had leaped from his horse and ran toward Bentinck. They were smiling at each other and then suddenly, to my astonishment, William took Bentinck into his arms and held him against him for a moment. Then he released him and they laughed together. I could not hear what was said, but I knew that William must be telling him how relieved he was that he was unhurt. I could not believe it. William looked like a different man. He was smiling as I would not have believed he could smile.

Who would have thought he could feel so warmly toward any man?


* * *

AFTER THAT I BECAME VERY INTERESTED in William Bentinck and wondered what it was about him which could attract William in such a way.

Bentinck was a year or so older than William — a nobleman who had been a page in William’s household, a position which had brought them into close contact and, as they were more or less of an age, I supposed they would have interests in common, and so this friendship had begun.

He had accompanied William on that visit to England when the latter had distinguished himself by breaking the windows of the maids of honor’s apartments; but, I learned, it was some years later when the friendship became significant.

I was a little hurt when I heard the story from others. William himself talked so rarely to me and never of his past.

It had happened five years after his return from England. The war in France was in progress and William was at The Hague Palace for a short respite, when he caught the smallpox. There was great consternation. This disease had killed both his father and his mother and people wondered if it were going to take him too. And at such a time when Holland needed his undoubtedly clever leadership!

His life was despaired of, for the usual eruptions did not appear and in such cases death seemed certain.

The doctors had a theory that if a young and healthy person who had not had the sickness would sleep in the bed of the sufferer and hold him in his arms throughout the night, these eruptions would be brought out and possibly save the life. Was there a young and healthy man who would risk his own life to save the Prince’s, for it was almost certain that the volunteer would catch the pox?

I could imagine the consternation among those young men about the Prince. It was William Bentinck who offered to make the sacrifice for the sake of his master and Holland.

For sixteen days and nights he shared William’s bed and waited on him by day. The effect was as the doctors had said it would be. The eruptions were drawn forth and William’s life had been saved. Alas, poor Bentinck had caught the disease very badly and come near to death. However, he recovered and ever since there had been a special friendship between him and William.

I liked the story. It proved that William had some warmth in his heart. He was capable of gratitude and Bentinck had risen high since that episode; he was always at William’s side. William consulted him and shared confidences.

As William was capable then of firm friendship, I began to make excuses for him. His mother had died when he was nine years old and he had been devoted to her since his birth; perhaps it was through her that he had conceived that ambition to possess the English crown. She had been English, my father’s sister — and she had put William in charge of Lady Catherine Stanhope, who had gone to Holland with her on her marriage, having previously been her governess. Then, of course, there was Mrs. Tanner’s vision of the three crowns.

I had begun to feel a little happier after that; and then, a wonderful thing happened. I was going to have a child. There was a long time to wait yet, but it had at last come to pass.

I was so proud. I even felt that all I had suffered would be worthwhile. What would it be like to have a child of one’s own? It would be wonderful. Everyone would be pleased, particularly if it were a boy. If it were a girl, that would be a disappointment, but only a minor one, for I was young. I could have sons, for I would have shown that I was not barren.

William was delighted. It was impossible for him to hide his joy. He smiled at me for the first time.

“That is good,” he said. “We will pray for a boy.”

He patted my shoulder. I smiled at him a little shyly and he continued to regard me with approval.

All my ladies were delighted, except Elizabeth Villiers. She congratulated me with the others, of course, but I caught an odd look in her eyes which I did not understand. Anne Trelawny clucked over me as though I were a little chick and she a mother hen.

It was early days yet, for there was a long time to go. I congratulated myself because I should enjoy the waiting period. No more suppers and after. What need of them now? Their express purpose had been achieved.

It was decided that while I was in the early stage of pregnancy it would be a good idea for me to show myself to the people of Holland, and in order to do this I and my ladies should take a journey through the country. The best way of undertaking this was by means of the canals. There I could sail through the land in the utmost comfort.