“I’ll tell you what you can do for me!” replied Barbara, and she crossed the room swiftly, until she stood just three or four feet from her. Barry was glaring pugnaciously from over Frances’s shoulder and the parrot had begun to squawk his resentment, but Barbara ignored them both. “You can stop trying to make me appear a fool in public, madame!
Frances looked at her with obvious distaste, wondering how she had ever been so stupid as to consider this wild uncontrolled harpy her best friend. And then she sat down again, motioning Barry to continue undressing her hair.
“I’m sure I don’t know how I can make you look a fool, madame—in public or anywhere else. If you do, you have only yourself to thank.”
Barbara stood with her hands on her hips, eyes slightly narrowed. “You’re a cunny gypsy, Mrs. Stewart—but let me tell you this: I can be a mighty dangerous enemy. You may find you’ve got the bear by the nose. If I set my mind to it, I could have you out of Whitehall like that!” She gave a quick sharp snap of her fingers.
Frances smiled coolly. “Could you, madame? You’re welcome to try—But I think I please his Majesty quite as well as you—even though my methods may not be the same—”
Barbara made a sound of disgust. “Bah! You squeamish virgins make me sick! You’re no good to any man, once he’s had you! I’ll wager you my right eye that once his Majesty lays with you he’ll—”
Frances gave her a bored look and as Barbara chattered on, the door behind her swung slowly open. His Majesty appeared in it. He motioned her to silence and stood lounging against the door-jamb, watching Barbara, his dark face moody, displeased and glowering.
Barbara was beginning to shout. “There’s one place where you can never get the better of me, Madame Stewart! Whatever my faults, there’s never a man got out of my bed—”
“Madame!”
The King’s voice spoke, sharply, from the doorway, and Barbara swung about with a horrified gasp. Both women watched him come into the room.
“Sire!” Barbara swept him a deep curtsy.
“That’s enough of your bawdy talk.”
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to have heard a great deal which was unpleasant. Frankly, madame, at times you exhibit the worst imaginable taste.”
“But I didn’t know you were there!” she protested. And then suddenly her eyes narrowed, she looked from Charles to Frances and back again. “Oho!” she said softly. “Now I begin to see something. How cleverly the two of you have hoodwinked us all—”
“Unfortunately, you’re mistaken. As it happened you passed me in the hall without seeing me, and when I found where you were going I turned around and followed you back. You looked as though you were about some mischief.” He smiled faintly, amused at her discomposure, but instantly his face sobered again. “I thought we had agreed, madame, that your behaviour toward Mrs. Stewart was to be both polite and friendly. What I heard just now sounded neither.”
“How can you expect me to be polite to a woman who slanders me!” demanded Barbara, quick to her own defense.
Charles gave a short laugh. “Slanders you! Ods-fish, Barbara, you don’t imagine it’s still possible? Now, Mrs. Stewart is tired, I believe, and would like to rest. If you’ll make her an apology we’ll both go and leave her alone.”
“An apology!” Barbara stared at him with horrified indignation, and turning she swept Frances contemptuously from head to foot. “I’ll be damned if I do!”
All good humour was gone from his face now, replaced by that sombre bitterness which lurked there at all times. “You refuse, madame?”
“I do!” She faced him defiantly, and both of them had forgotten Frances who stood looking on, tired and nervous, wishing that they would quarrel elsewhere. “Nothing under God’s sky can make me apologize to that meek simpering milk-sop!”
“The choice is your own. But may I suggest that you retire from Hampton Court while you consider the matter? A few weeks of quiet reflection may give you another view of good manners.
“You’re sending me from the Court?”
“Put it that way if you like.”
Without a moment’s hesitation Barbara was in tears. “So this is what it’s come to! After the years I’ve given up to you! It’s a shame before all the world that a king should turn away the mother of his children!”
He lifted one eyebrow, skeptically. “My children?” he repeated softly. “Well, some of them, perhaps. But there’s nothing more to be said. Either make Mrs. Stewart an apology—or go elsewhere.”
“But where can I go? The plague’s everywhere else!”
“For the matter of that, the plague’s here too.”
Even Frances snapped out of her weary lethargy and both women repeated at once: “Here!”
“The wife of a groom died of it today. Tomorrow we move to Salisbury.”
“Oh, my God!” wailed Barbara. “Now we’ll all get it! We’ll all die!”
“I don’t think so. The woman has been buried and everyone who was with her is shut up. So far there’ve been no new cases. Come, madame, make your choice. Will you be going with us tomorrow?”
