But Barbara did not notice. She frowned, stripping off her gloves, and for several moments she remained silent and thoughtful. If only there was some way she could get his advice without telling him! She felt like a young bride going to consult a physician, except that her scruples were those not of modesty but of angry and humiliated pride.
How can I tell him that the King’s grown tired of me! she thought. Besides, it’s not true! I know it isn’t! No matter what anyone says! It’s just that he’s so pleased at the prospect of having a legitimate child—for once! I know he still loves me. He must! He’s just as cold to Frances Stewart as he is to me—! Oh, it’s all because of that damned woman—that damned Portuguese!
She raised her eyes and looked at him. “You’ve heard, perhaps,” she said at last, “that her Majesty finally proves with child?” She accentuated the word “finally,” giving it an inflection which suggested that the delay was due to Catherine’s own malicious procrastination.
“Ah, madame! Of course! Haven’t we all heard the happy news by now? And high time it is—but then, better late than never, as they say. Eh, your Ladyship?” But at Barbara’s quick disapproving scowl he sobered, cleared his throat, and bent over his papers. “Now, what were you saying, your Ladyship?”
“That her Majesty proves with child!” snapped Barbara. “Now, it seems that since it was learned the Queen is pregnant, his Majesty has fallen in love with her. That must be the reason, since no one noticed that he paid her any undue attention before. He neglects his old friends and scarcely goes near some of them. I want you to tell me”—suddenly she Leaned forward, staring at him intently—“what will happen once the child is born. Will he go back to his old habits then? Or what?”
Heydon nodded his head and bent to his work. For some time he was silent, poring over an extremely complicated map of the heavens which was spread before him, pursing his lips and frowning studiously. From time to time he sucked air through a space between his two front teeth and drummed his fingers on the table. Barbara sat and watched him, her excitement mounting and her hopes, as well, for she could not believe that he would give her any really bad news. Somehow, this would all work out to her satisfaction—as everything had always done.
“Faith, madame,” he said at last, “you ask me a very difficult question.”
“Why? Can’t you see into the future? I thought that was your business!” She spoke to him as though he were a glove-maker who had just told her that he would be unable to get the kind of leather she wanted.
“My years of study have not been in vain, madame, I assure you. But such a question—You understand—” He shrugged, spreading his hands, and then made a gesture as of a knife being run across his throat. “If it should be known I had made a prognostication in a matter so important—” He glanced down at his charts again, frowning dubiously, and then he murmured softly, as though to himself: “It’s incredible! I can’t believe it—”
Barbara, in a froth of sudden excitement, sat far forward on the edge of her chair and her eyes blazed wildly. “What’s incredible? What is it? You’ve got to tell me!”
He leaned back, putting his finger-tips lightly together and contemplating the bony joints. “Ah, madame—it is information of too much importance to be disposed of so casually. Give me a few days to think it over, I pray you.”
“No! I can’t wait! I’ve got to know now! I’ll run mad if I don’t! What do you want—? I’ll give you anything! A hundred pound—”
“Have you a hundred pound with you?”
“Not with me. I’ll send it tomorrow.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, madame, but I can no longer do business on credit. It was that practice which brought me to the condition you now see. Perhaps it would be best if you returned tomorrow.”
“No! Not tomorrow! I’ve got to know
He gathered up the jewellery and slipped it into his pocket. “According to the stars, madame, the Queen’s child will be born dead.”
Barbara gasped. One hand went to cover her mouth and she sank back into her chair, her face shocked and unbelieving. But presently there began to creep into her eyes a look of cunning and of malignant satisfaction.
“Born dead!” she whispered at last. “Are you sure?”
“If the stars are sure, madame, I am sure.”
“Of course the stars are sure!” She got up swiftly. “Then he’ll come back to me, won’t he?” In her sudden joy and new confidence she spoke recklessly.
“It would seem likely, would it not—under the circumstances?” His voice had a soft purring sound and his face was smiling and subtle.
