“You are the dearest person in the world,” I said with vehement gratitude, “and everybody loves you.”
“You see how this Priscilla flatters me!” She was smiling at Christabel now. “Never mind. It shows that she loves me.
“Oh, Harriet, dear, dear Harriet, how can we thank you for all you have done!”
“I had to do it. Leigh would have wanted to know the reason why if I had not. I am afraid of that forceful son of mine, Christabel.”
“I cannot believe that you would ever be afraid of anything,” answered Christabel.
“Well,” said Harriet, “I must not linger too long. You will want to change and then we’ll dine … without ceremony. Gregory will be back for dinner. He should be in shortly. He is helping with the arrangements to get John out to safety. He can stay in France until this nonsense is over, and Gregory says that will soon be. This time next year he reckons it will be forgotten. Come down when you are changed.” She turned to the door and whispered: “Don’t forget. Careful where John Frisby is concerned. I must go along now and whisper a word of caution in his ear. I thought he looked rather like a lovesick Romeo when his eyes fell on you. Romantic and beautiful to behold but highly undesirable in the circumstances.”
She went out, leaving Christabel and me together.
“What a beautiful woman!” cried Christabel. “I never saw anyone like her before.”
“No one has,” I said. “There never has been anyone like Harriet.”
What a wonderful evening that was! It is one which I shall remember forever. We ate in a small room which was used when the family were alone, as we did at home in the winter parlour. It was lit by candlelight which threw shadows on the tapestries of sylvan scenes which hung on the panelled walls and gave them an air of mystery.
Gregory had returned. He was a tall, quiet man who seemed perpetually surprised at his good fortune in marrying such a dazzling creature as Harriet. He was completely her slave. I was sure that the smuggling of a wanted man to France was something he himself would never have undertaken if it had not been her wish that he should do so. He was the sort of man who would have lived to a set of rules from which he had never diverged until he had met Harriet.
I often wondered why she had married him. But she was fond of him as far as she could be fond of anyone, and it was a singularly successful marriage.
Now he was involved in this matter with her and it was one which could bring trouble to his house, and yet cheerfully he undertook what was expected of him because Harriet was the one who expected it.
He sat at one end of the table, Harriet at the other. She had placed Jocelyn on her right hand, I was on her left, so he and I were opposite and could gaze contentedly at each other throughout the meal.
While the servants were bringing in the dishes and serving us, the conversation was of Court matters. The King was seen everywhere with the Queen, Gregory told us. It was his answer to those who accused her of being concerned in the Popish Plot and of planning the death of her husband.
“Dear good lady,” said Gregory, “it was the most foolish accusation to bring against her. What has she ever been but a good and loyal wife to him?”
“And brought him Bombay and Tangiers into the bargain,” cried Harriet. “My dear Gregory, I could bring you nothing like that.”
“You brought me yourself,” he answered, like the gallant lover he was, “and that was all I wanted.”
She blew a kiss to him across the table. I wondered if she were faithful to him. I knew that she was the sort of woman who would not hesitate to take a lover if the whim came to her. But she would always do it carefully and in a manner to bring the least unhappiness to Gregory. One would always make excuses for Harriet when one was with her. But there was nothing to make excuses for now.
Gregory talked of the theatres and who was playing what and where.
“We’ve never had one to replace Nell Gwyn,” he said. “There are some who regret the King ever saw her and took her away from the stage.”
“I doubt Nelly would agree with that,” put in Harriet. “She has a great gift but I’m not sure that it was for acting. It was the way she laughed, the way she danced … It was inevitable that some connoisseur of women would see that one day. I liked her. Everybody did … except those who were jealous of her. People still like her in spite of her good fortune, for she was never one to give herself airs.”
“She is urging the King to set up a royal hospital at Chelsea for aged and disabled soldiers,” said Gregory. “They say he is interested in the scheme. She is one to ask for others rather than herself.”
“A rare quality,” said Christabel.
“And one to be applauded,” put in Jocelyn.
“We of the theatre owe a great deal to her,” said Harriet with a grimace at Jocelyn.
“Oh, indeed,” agreed Jocelyn, “I remember …”
Harriet silenced him with a look. “For the benefit of anyone with an ear to the keyhole,” she whispered to me, “I have to watch those reminiscences of the theatre in that direction. I couldn’t have chosen a worse profession for him. It was a good thing I arranged that he should be a child actor who did not fulfill his early promise.”
Gregory was saying: “Nelly and Monmouth are not good friends.”
“Of course not,” agreed Harriet. “She thinks he has his eye on the throne and she can’t bear to contemplate his ever reaching it, for that would mean the death of Charles.”
“She has given him a nickname and called him Prince Perkin,” went on Gregory.
“Plainly referring to Perkin Warbeck, who claimed a throne to which he had no right,” added Harriet.
“He retaliated by asking in public how his father can have such a low-bred creature constantly in his company. Then she reminded him that his mother, Lucy Walter, was no better bred than she was. You see, it’s a regular battle between them, though they both stand for the Protestant side.”
“I know she calls herself the Protestant Whore. Forgive me, dear ladies.” Harriet smiled at Christabel and me. “But the Court is far from pure and that means we have to be a little impure when speaking of it. It’s a real turmoil of opinions, and I reckon that when the King does die there’ll be trouble once more. So … a health unto His Majesty.”
The talk went on but what I wanted to hear were the plans for Jocelyn and that, of course, was something which could not be discussed at table. Nor would Harriet allow me to be alone with Jocelyn. She believed at the moment that all was well and that no one suspected that Jocelyn was anything but what he claimed to be; and no one in the household, apart from herself and Gregory, must know that Jocelyn and I had met before.
“We went over to the Eyot a few weeks ago,” she said. “It was a beautifully calm and pleasant day. John knows how to handle a pair of oars with real skill. You could row the ladies over tomorrow, John, if the weather is good.”
“I should love to go,” I said, my eyes shining as I realized Harriet was making our opportunity for us.
“Then we’ll pray for a calm day,” said Harriet. “I’ll have a basket of delicacies prepared for you. There are some really sheltered places among the ruins and you can imagine that the ghosts of the monks are looking after you. Mind you, I don’t think they’ll appear by day, do you, Gregory?”
Gregory said he doubted they appeared even at night, but according to popular belief they did.
I was longing to be alone with Jocelyn, to talk to him, to make our plans. I wondered where he would go when he reached France. I could see how dangerous it was for us to be too much together, or to talk of these matters in the house. I had to behave as though I had never met Jocelyn before and that was not easy.