Exit The Actress_ A Novel Part 29

"And then if we start the other batch growing from this side, Your Majesty?" Lark asked, holding up a pretty vine. "It should knit together by summer's end."

"Very good!" the king said enthusiastically, his bare hands covered in fresh dirt. "What do you say, sir?" he asked Grandfather, who was sitting in the cool shade of the peach tree. "Another slimmer trellis over the garden door?"

I looked up from my bed of creamy cabbage roses to watch the king working so happily in the company of my family.

"Lark!" Mrs. Lark called from the kitchen door. "Oh, begging your pardon, Your Majesty," she said, upon seeing the king. "I just finished a fresh pitcher of sweet lemon water; it's a new recipe, with honey and touch of mint, and I was going to test it out on Mr. Lark."

"You must try it out on us, Mrs. Lark! It sounds delicious!" the king said, wiping his hands on a clean cloth.

"With some b.u.t.ter cakes," Mrs. Lark determined. "With lemon-sugar icing." She was already heading back into the house.

She returned and, spreading out a snowy cloth, laid out a pretty afternoon collation of cakes, cold coffee, and sweet citrus juices. We ate in the slanting sun and talked of this and that: the law banning blood transfusions in France, the newest plays, the stylish new cutaway jackets, and the next s.h.i.+pment of imported lace-everything but government, politics, and the king's family.

June 27, 1669-Newman's Row (hot) Charles is spending most of his days here. He does not care to publicly mourn with the court. He is quiet and thoughtful but not sad. It was a complicated affection, he tells me. He does not miss her but regrets that he did not heed his sister's pleas and visit their ailing Mother. "I was not at the deathbed of either of my parents," he told me, "but then my father did not die in a bed." He picked up a Venetian gla.s.s ball and held it up to the afternoon sun. "Did you know I sent a blank letter? Just my signature and nothing else."

"Blank letter?"

"To Cromwell, from the Hague. Any terms. I left it blank to show that I would sign my name to any any terms that would spare my father's life." He looked at the blue gla.s.s ball in his hand as if he was surprised to find it there. terms that would spare my father's life." He looked at the blue gla.s.s ball in his hand as if he was surprised to find it there.

When I asked about his mother, his description was, at best, unflattering: "She was opinionated, stubborn, and nothing I did pleased her. She has been determined to be miserable every day since the death of my father." He broke off, hearing his escaping bitterness. This was a man who had trained himself to experience only the sweet side of everything. "But, my G.o.d...," he said thoughtfully, as he looked out the window to the meadow beyond, "did she love him."

Every so often he breaks the quiet with random anecdotes pulled from his past: how she charged him per meal during their penniless exile, how she fed his dogs free of charge, how she pa.s.sionately loved her husband but never understood her adopted country. He replays his life over and over.

He worries for his sister, now the last member of his immediate family left in France, and is forever urging her to visit, although having just risen from childbed, she cannot. Her grief for her mother is genuine. "There is no one Minette could not love, including our mam," he said after reading her letter. I just sit by him and stay quiet: It is all I can do.

Note-I asked Rose to sew some mourning clothes for me and the staff, and she has already sent over a stunning black striped satin gown: black on black, very elegant.

June 28, 1669-Bagnigge Wells Charles and I have returned to the quiet of the country. He was loath to go to one of his official residences for fear of all the fuss and ceremony, so we slipped away here. The Larks accompanied us, and each day we take all the dogs, a duck or two if they are inclined, and Molly on a long walk by the river. Charles is teaching me to fish, although I try not to catch any-it seems cruel. Charles is much preoccupied with his sister's well-being and happiness and, I suspect, with the brewing treaty betwixt the two countries. I do not try to divert him but let him know that I am here at the end of the path.

June 30, 1669-Official Notations for Privy Council Meeting on this Day to Be Entered into the Log-book Notations taken by Secretary of State Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington The king's instinct was correct and the Monsieur did indeed try to claim the late queen's goods-particularly her jewels-for his wife. But the Madame, with the support of King Louis, insisted that what rightfully belonged to England should be returned to the English Crown, and so the queen's jewels and effects will be sent here.

The king instructed the Council to issue an invitation for the Madame to bring them herself, as a guest of the English Crown, but she has formally refused.

Nothing further to report.

Secretary of State Henry Arlington, Earl of Arlington August 19 Clean linen again this month. Hold still. Trust. Hope. Another month, and I tell him.

When I Share a Joy

September 12, 1669-Bagnigge Wells (still hot!) "This won't work if you stay on the bank, Nell!" Charles called out, lazily floating in the shady water. Ruby and Scandalous looked at me in alarm, concerned that if I go in, they might be required to jump in and rescue me. Charles's spaniels, all accustomed to water sports, flung themselves into the water with abandon.

"Sit, stay," I told them. "But how does it work work?" I asked, buying time on hard ground and watching the dogs swim round their master.

"Out! Out!" He herded them onto the bank. "Well, we are largely composed of humours that float, and so, on the whole, we we float." float."

I put my bare toe into the river. It felt cold, but then he he looked warm, and the dogs, now shaking off the water and stretching out in the suns.h.i.+ne, looked warm, and so it must looked warm, and the dogs, now shaking off the water and stretching out in the suns.h.i.+ne, looked warm, and so it must be be warm. "On the whole?" I asked sceptically. "Ruby, sit." I did not want her going in the water. warm. "On the whole?" I asked sceptically. "Ruby, sit." I did not want her going in the water.

"Well, the odd man here or there doesn't float, but most do. In any case I am right here to save you. Just go, all at once! No hesitation! One, two, three! There's my brave girl!" he whooped as I ungracefully tumbled in on my bottom.

I rose, sputtering, to the surface, shocked by the cold-it was not not warm at all. Laughing, he caught me in his arms and held me securely as I caught my breath. It was an exhilarating feeling: the chilly weightlessness after the bright day's warmth. Just then Molly jumped in after me and paddled in circles around us. This was too much for the dogs, and they all began to bark, alarming Molly, who only paddled faster. warm at all. Laughing, he caught me in his arms and held me securely as I caught my breath. It was an exhilarating feeling: the chilly weightlessness after the bright day's warmth. Just then Molly jumped in after me and paddled in circles around us. This was too much for the dogs, and they all began to bark, alarming Molly, who only paddled faster.

"Now, kick your legs and move your arms like this-that's it!" he cheered, as I began to gently propel myself through the water with Molly on one side and Charles on the other. The three of us splashed about happily and then lay on the sunstriped lawn to dry. I can swim!

Later "Is that safe?" I asked him tentatively. He was lying on his back, enjoying the golden summer evening light. "For a woman, I mean."

"Well, you're a woman and you're safe," he answered without opening his eyes.

"Suppose a woman were in a more delicate delicate condition?" condition?"

"And what kind of condition might that be?" he asked softly, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me.

Tuesday, October 1, 1669-Church Street, Windsor The queen is in residence, and I just can't stay in the castle-well, won't won't is a better word. is a better word. Refuse Refuse is an even better word. Barbara Castlemaine and her brood are also lodged in the castle while Nunsuch is being renovated (again), another excellent reason to live here. This house is matchbox charming and set back on a quiet lane. Charles has hired a full staff, including two coachman, cook, cook-maid, housekeeper, housemaid, lady's maid, scullery maid, laundry-maid, porter, two footmen, kitchen gardener, flower gardener, and errand boy. The Larks stayed in London to supervise the decoration and look after the animals; Jezebel got up to all kinds of wickedness and has had a family. Grandfather and Mr. Lark have had to build a larger shed for them. is an even better word. Barbara Castlemaine and her brood are also lodged in the castle while Nunsuch is being renovated (again), another excellent reason to live here. This house is matchbox charming and set back on a quiet lane. Charles has hired a full staff, including two coachman, cook, cook-maid, housekeeper, housemaid, lady's maid, scullery maid, laundry-maid, porter, two footmen, kitchen gardener, flower gardener, and errand boy. The Larks stayed in London to supervise the decoration and look after the animals; Jezebel got up to all kinds of wickedness and has had a family. Grandfather and Mr. Lark have had to build a larger shed for them.

This house is tall but slim and will not hold such a large staff, so I have packed some of them off to London to help ready the house in Newman's Row, which is still still under renovation and showing no sins of being finished anytime soon. Charles drew up wonderful plans for modernising the kitchens, widening the stairway, raising the door frames, breaking through walls to combine small rooms into larger ones and even installing an indoor water closet, but I fear that we will never see the end of the construction and I will be doomed to live forever in a cloud of sawdust. We have under renovation and showing no sins of being finished anytime soon. Charles drew up wonderful plans for modernising the kitchens, widening the stairway, raising the door frames, breaking through walls to combine small rooms into larger ones and even installing an indoor water closet, but I fear that we will never see the end of the construction and I will be doomed to live forever in a cloud of sawdust. We have still still not chosen colours or furnis.h.i.+ngs for any of the reception rooms, despite Mrs. Lark's pestering. I want green (verdant and peaceful), and she wants gold (ornate and gaudy); we are at an impa.s.se. Grandfather and Mr. Lark are enjoying the building process enormously and spend hours poring over the plans and debating at length all the technical logistics of this wild endeavour. not chosen colours or furnis.h.i.+ngs for any of the reception rooms, despite Mrs. Lark's pestering. I want green (verdant and peaceful), and she wants gold (ornate and gaudy); we are at an impa.s.se. Grandfather and Mr. Lark are enjoying the building process enormously and spend hours poring over the plans and debating at length all the technical logistics of this wild endeavour.

Meanwhile, without the distraction of the stage, I am growing increasingly restless. I understand that Charles is determined that I should not overdo it, but at this rate I will have nothing to to do. With the exception of his obsessive but warranted care of the queen during her many unsuccessful pregnancies, I have never heard of his expressing such vivid concern when his women are with child, and this is his ninth child! He has not even been to my bed in the last week, saying I need my rest. I hope there are no court beauties up there luring him back at night. do. With the exception of his obsessive but warranted care of the queen during her many unsuccessful pregnancies, I have never heard of his expressing such vivid concern when his women are with child, and this is his ninth child! He has not even been to my bed in the last week, saying I need my rest. I hope there are no court beauties up there luring him back at night.

Later-Church Street (two o'clock in the morning) The queen just left. I read these words and cannot quite believe them.

Tonight: At eleven o'clock, after Charles had returned to the castle, Jerome arrived with a note from the queen requesting a brief audience. Stunned, I quickly agreed. She arrived within a few minutes, leaving me little time to remove all traces of Charles from the sitting room: his books, maps, boots, clocks, and his velvet hat with the crimson plume...

"Your Majesty." I curtsied deeply. She was smaller than I remembered.

"Mrs. Gwyn," she said, refusing the proffered chair, her back willow-wand straight. "I understand you are carrying my husband's child."

I nodded, startled by her directness and moved by her great courage.

"And will you be seeking ... placement?" Her voice had lost none of its rich Portuguese lilt.

"At court?" In spite of myself, I giggled at the ludicrous thought.

She smiled at my response, visibly relaxing. "It is rumoured that you have requested a place in my household, and after a royal birth.... It has happened ... before." Her mouth turned up in a sardonic smile. In a gesture of impulsive sweetness, she reached out, taking my hand in her own. "I knew it to be false, but I wanted to be sure. It did not sound like you. While you have caused me tremendous hurt, Ellen"-she paused, searching for the right words-"you have never been cruel."

I squeezed her tiny hand. "Your Majesty..." How to ask forgiveness? She shook her head, my unspoken apology running off her like a raindrop. Her eyes met mine in absolute understanding. She left without another word, lightly climbing into the waiting coach.

I will not tell anyone of her visit. I know she would prefer it, and I very much want to please this brave little woman.

When We Disagree

October 3, 1669-Church Street, Windsor I have just returned from a tense walk with Charles through Home Park, which is rapidly returning to its pre-war beauty, I am told. It was a walk with a specific purpose, I discovered soon after we set out.

"Hmmm." Charles uncharacteristically cleared his throat. "As you will not be returning to the stage-"

"What?"

"Ellen, you must see that it is impossible to be the mother of my natural child and an actress, actress," he said tersely, his eyes focusing somewhere above my head.

"Charles, I was an actress when you met me, an actress when you took me into your bed, and I am still an actress now that I am carrying your child." I felt panic rising in my throat. I had been down this utterly dependent, unhappy, landmarkless road before.

"You must not upset yourself, my darling. As I said, it is impossible and not worth arguing over ... especially now, when-"

"It would make me unhappy," I said bluntly, stopping on the path and sitting heavily down in the cold gra.s.s. "Is that not worth arguing over?"

"What is it?" he asked, looking down at me in alarm. "Are you ill? Do you have pain?"

"I am unhappy unhappy. I just told you. Weren't you listening?"

He set his mouth in a grim line and did not respond.

Note-Again! He left after supper again! I wore my new creamy silk gown-very decollete decollete and meant to be irresistible, but obviously isn't as he left without even going upstairs! He said he would not be able to overcome the temptation if he slept here. "Why are you so busy overcoming temptation?" I asked him, settling onto his lap. and meant to be irresistible, but obviously isn't as he left without even going upstairs! He said he would not be able to overcome the temptation if he slept here. "Why are you so busy overcoming temptation?" I asked him, settling onto his lap.

"Your health, my love," he said lightly, setting me down in an armchair and moving across the room. "Good night, sweetheart," he said, pulling the door shut behind him.

Rubbish my health! I will ask Teddy what is going on. He and Tom arrive tomorrow to entertain the court.

October 4, 1669-Church Street "Nope, no one, just you," Teddy said, leaning back in the midday sun. We were seated in the garden amongst the last of the fragrant summer roses.

"No one?" Ruby rolled over in my lap for her afternoon sleep.

"Be careful, she is getting so fat," Teddy observed, frowning at my pudgy dog. "If you keep feeding her-"

"Teddy! There is truly no one who has caught his eye? Frances? Is she back?" I feared Frances's hold on him.

"No! She is off with her lumpy husband, twittering away in other pastures, thank G.o.d." Frances irritates Teddy as well. "Honestly, just the queen."

"And no one is trying to catch his eye?" I asked hopefully.

Teddy looked at me disdainfully and did not bother even to answer that.

"Right, sorry." This court is stacked ten deep with pretty young women hurling themselves at the king.

"They've been imitating you, this last crop. Some wear their hair like you, some wear breeches, some laugh overloudly." I pinched him at that. "What? You do! But when you do it, it is genuine and enchanting, and we love it and he loves it. I meant to tell you, Jemimah Sandwich said a couple of the latest bunch even tried to tint their hair red-came out a kind of awful carroty orange. Too bad."

"So what is he doing when he is not with me? I can't be there all the time, and since we came to Windsor I haven't had the energy to be there at all." I leaned forward in my garden chair, eager to pry information out of my observant friend.

"Do? Tennis, swimming, riding, a lot of hunting lately, but I suspect he told you that. The poor gamekeepers are going to have to go by night and kidnap stags from other forests and bring them here so the king can hunt them-he's killed so many. Jemimah says she will never eat venison again after this season, she's had so much of it. Oh, and his children are about and he has been much with them-but I expect he told you that, too."

I nodded. "Castlemaine around much?" I asked, attempting to sound casual. I knew it was she who had been spreading rumours of my request for a place in the queen's household.

"Barbara doesn't really interest him anymore; only her children interest him. I know she wormed her way back in by perpetually renovating her houses and making them uninhabitable construction zones, but of course he sees through that," Teddy said, stretching out his long legs. "I think she frankly gets on his nerves at this point, and she is loud and vulgar and is losing her looks at a terrifying rate. I give you permission to shoot me should I ever get that fat," he p.r.o.nounced, closing his eyes.

I giggled and smelled the fading roses and watched the dying summer b.u.t.terflies swirl around my friend.

Later Teddy just left to head up to the castle dressed in all his masculine finery-his feminine finery is far more de luxe, de luxe, but he does what he can. I am feeling too sleepy to go. If there is no one else charming him, then why does he not sleep here? but he does what he can. I am feeling too sleepy to go. If there is no one else charming him, then why does he not sleep here?

October 5, 1669-Church Street, Windsor I did not attend the evening of cards in James York's suite last night-yet another evening I was too exhausted to attend. Too exhausted and too puffy. It feels as if I shall never leave this house again. Teddy says that Hart has arrived to be with Castlemaine, and I find the whole affair too incongrously bothersome to witness. To bring her new lover, who is my old lover, to her old lover's house-while I, his new lover, am here-ludicrous.

In any case I was too irritated to see anyone. A note arrived from Charles this morning and has left me feeling on edge all day. Jerome gave me a rueful smile as he handed me the little envelope with the great gold seal. I asked Lucy, the new chambermaid, to take him through to the kitchen for some breakfast and sat down to read.

DELIVERED BY HAND TO C CHURCH S STREET, WINDSOR.

Ellen, You are to receive a generous allowance from the Privy Purse, subject to increase at regular intervals, and if your expenditures should exceed this sum, you are to promptly send the receipts to Mr. Bab May, the Keeper of the Privy Purse. The deed to Newman's Row shall be signed over to you, and a permanent legal pension will be drawn up after your confinement and the birth of our child.

So you see, my love, there is no need for you to return to the stage. You will be well provided for. I have arranged everything. I hope this sets your mind at ease. There now, you see, there was no need to quarrel.

I love you and am your, Charles A contract, then? If I am to receive a salary, he must believe that I am for hire, and if I am for hire, then I am a ... No. I am not not for hire. Gifts, yes. Salary, no. King or no king. for hire. Gifts, yes. Salary, no. King or no king.

Three p.m.

A draft for a staggering sum arrived this afternoon along with a curt note from Mr. May, all inside a hideously gaudy envelope with a fat ornate seal. I find him an insubstantial yet sourish sort of person and am well aware that he favours Castlemaine, regardless of her dismissal in this ridiculous horse race for the king's heart. She plays on his love of finery and wild, risky living and plies him with extravagant compliments and hints of undreamed of favours yet to come-absurd. All the while she has her sly fingers in the Privy Purse. Castlemaine is a mother five times over and ought to let go of her vixeny, compulsive flirting. It is unbecoming.

I have decided to put the whole matter out of my head for the moment, as I can see there will be no changing Charles's mind at present, nor any reason for me to give ground. In fact, I've a good mind to write to Tom and ensure my billing for the autumn season.

Note-Teddy says the rumours have begun. My absence has been noticed, and everyone can guess the cause.

October 7, 1669-Church Street, Windsor Rose is here visiting me while her husband is away in the Cinque Ports in Jemmy Monmouth's bloated retinue, and this morning she and I sat in my cheery yellow closet sketching designs for new dresses.

"Ivory taffeta, striped with palest cream, will be lovely for evening. And if we order a cream hat with matching veil from London today, Madame Sophie should be able to have them here by next week," Rose said, looking at her diary. She takes her dress-making very seriously, and once she has promised, she is careful to deliver on the appointed day.

"Ivory?" I asked, looking at her design. "I'm not sure wheaty colours will do much for me. Perhaps a bolder shade..."

"Yes, but your skin is peachy from the sun-you've obviously not been wearing your bonnet-so ivory will suit for evening: very pretty by candlelight, and more stylish than a dark colour," she overruled. "Do you still have the gold slippers with the embroidered b.u.t.terflies?"

"No, I got them wet," I said distractedly. I was looking for the right time to tell her my news-particularly as it would affect the dresses she was designing. This might not be the best season for stripes stripes. I would look like a circus tent, and we would certainly need more material for the winter gowns once I was showing.

"Rose..." This was proving more difficult than I thought.

"Ellen, the way you go through slippers! You used to be able to make one pair last for two years!"

"Well, they were made of sterner stuff. Rose..."

"What about the green slippers edged in silver lace for the pink gown? No, the green may be too dark. You need something something to temper that dress-if only I had known it was going to be such a to temper that dress-if only I had known it was going to be such a bright bright pink." pink."

"Yes, that sounds perfect. Rose..."

"And a grey feathered hat for your new black walking gown? Something fluffy and grey will offset that dress-otherwise it's a bit severe.

"Rose..."