Barbara flung back her head and began to laugh, a wild high abandoned laugh that was peculiarly her own, full of contempt and mocking cruelty. When she spoke her voice was low again, but intense, and excitement showed in the straining cords of her throat, the bright glitter of her eyes, the poise of her muscles as she leaned slightly toward him, like a cat set to spring.
“You’re a fool, Charles Stuart! You’re a stupid ridiculous credulous fool and everyone in your Court is laughing at you! And do you know why? Because Frances Stewart has been carrying on an intrigue with Richmond right under your nose! He’s with her at this moment—while you think she’s in bed with a headache—” She paused breathless, triumph shining from her face and showing in every line of her body, triumph and satisfied vengeance.
Charles answered her swiftly, without thinking, his habitual easy self-possession deserting him. “You’re lying!”
“Lying, am I? You
With sudden resolution Charles jerked his hand free and started from the room, Barbara—grinning broadly now—hurrying at his heels. He wore only his white linen shirt and breeches. He had left his periwig in his closet hanging on a chair-back. Two courtiers leaped abruptly back from the door and all faces looked solemn and guilty, trying to pretend they had not listened. Charles ignored them and rushed on, half running along the maze of rooms and hall-ways that led to Frances’s apartments, leaving a trail of staring eyes and open mouths behind him. Barbara’s heels pounded at his side.
But outside Stewart’s rooms he stopped, his hand on the knob. “You’ve come far enough,” he said curtly. “Go back to your apartments.” And then as she stared with disappointment he flung open the door.
Frances’s pretty little serving-girl was in the entrance room and at the King’s appearance she gave a horrified gasp, leaped to her feet and ran toward him. “Oh, your Majesty! How did you—Don’t go in—
Charles did not even glance at her, but he reached out one arm to ward her off. “That remains to be seen.” He went on, striding through the antechamber and the drawing-room, and without hesitating an instant he flung open the door of the bedroom.
Frances was sitting in bed wearing a white-satin jacket with her hair tumbled over her shoulders, and beside her was a young man who held her hand in his. Both of them looked around in astonishment to find the King looming there in the doorway like a great and angry avenging god. Frances gave a nervous little scream and Richmond gaped, horror-struck, unable even to take off his hat or get to his feet.
Charles walked slowly toward them, his lips drawn tight against his teeth. “I didn’t believe her,” he said softly. “I thought she was lying.”
“Thought who was lying!” cried Frances defensively. She understood his anger and knew what he was thinking and it made her suddenly furious.
“My Lady Castlemaine. It seems she’s known some things about my affairs of which I was ignorant.” His black eyes shifted from Frances to Richmond, who had now got to his feet and stood twisting his hat round and round in his hands, while he looked like a whipped pup. “What are you doing here?” demanded Charles suddenly, his voice strained and harsh.
Richmond gave an unhappy apologetic little laugh. “Heh! I’m paying Mrs. Stewart a visit.”
“So I see! And by what right, pray, do you visit her when she’s too sick to see her other friends?”
Richmond, suddenly aware that he was being made to appear a helpless fool before the woman he loved, answered stoutly: “At least, Sire, I am prepared to marry her. Which is more than your Majesty can do.”
Charles’s eyes blazed in sudden rage and he started toward the Duke with clenched fists. One hand went to Frances’s mouth and she gave a piercing scream as Richmond, who did not want a beating at the competent hands of his sovereign, turned suddenly and leaped out the window. Charles, who had already reached it, saw him land awkwardly not far below in the low-tide river mud, and then scramble to his feet, give one terrified backward glance and rush off into the fog. For a long moment he stood there and stared after him, contempt and hatred on his face; then he turned to Frances.
“I never expected anything like this from you.”
