But this was no time to think about her own complicated relationships. What of Jane?
Zuylestein had promised marriage and he should be made to keep that promise.
She sent for Dr. Kenn and told him what had happened.
The little priest was indignant. An English girl in trouble and the Dutchman who betrayed her now trying to shirk his responsibilities! It was something that Kenn would do his utmost to put right.
“Zuylestein, according to Jane, says that the Prince would forbid him to marry her, that he has other plans for him.”
“Such plans must be set aside then,” retorted the fiery Kenn. “His duty comes before grand plans and I have no doubt where that duty lies. Nor has Your Highness.”
“But the Prince …”
“Your Highness is the Princess, not only of Holland for your title did not come to you through your husband. You are the heiress to the throne of England; I think you are inclined to forget this in your relationship with your husband. In any case, while he is away it is for you to rule in his stead. And your duty is to see this girl married.”
“Against the Prince’s will?”
“What is done will be done.”
“You are right, Dr. Kenn. Send for Zuylestein.”
Zuylestein stood before the Princess and her chaplain.
“Your Highness desired to see me?”
“To ask you what you intended to do about Jane Wroth,” said Mary promptly.
“Do?”
“You intend to marry her, of course,” went on Mary, “and the marriage should take place without delay for she is far gone in pregnancy.”
“Your Highness, I would marry Jane but the Prince would not agree to the marriage.”
“I give my consent to it,” said Mary.
“Your Highness is gracious, but the Prince …”
Dr. Kenn growled: “The baby will be born like as not before the return of the Prince. We cannot wait for his consent. The Princess gives it and that will suffice.”
“Your Highness …” stammered Zuylestein.
“You have sinned,” said Kenn, “and there is one way of expiating that sin. You must marry the girl unless you prefer to rot in hell.”
“I will make reparations. I will see that she is well cared for.”
“There is only one reparation acceptable in the eyes of Heaven,” said Kenn. “You will make it.”
Zuylestein looked appealingly at Mary who answered sternly: “I command you to marry Jane Wroth and be a good father to your child.”
“I would, Your Highness, but …”
“I will leave you with Dr. Kenn,” said Mary. “He will explain to you the consequences of your sin to your victim and yourself. You will listen to him and I command that you come to me and tell me before the day is out that you will repair the harm you have done, as best you can, by marriage.”
She left him with Dr. Kenn.
Limp from the fiery denunciations of Dr. Kenn, with vivid pictures of hell fire in his mind, Zuylestein presented himself to Mary.
“Well?” she said.
“Your Highness, I have given my promise to Dr. Kenn.”
“I rejoice to hear it. You will do what is right for Jane and I am sure you will be happier for it.”
“Your Highness, the Prince is not going to be pleased with me.… or Dr. Kenn or …”
She held her head a little higher.
“I am sure we have nothing to fear for we have done what is right,” she said.
She dismissed him and sent for Jane, whom she embraced and told her that the marriage would take place tomorrow, with Dr. Kenn officiating.
Jane could not believe it; she fell on her knees and kissed the hem of her mistress’s gown.
“Get up,” commanded Mary. “It is bad for you in your condition to crawl about the floor.” Then she embraced her maid once more and told her how happy she was.
“A woman who is to bear a child should know nothing but joy,” she said a little sadly.
“I cannot thank Your Highness enough. But the Prince will not be pleased when he returns.”
“He will see that we have done what is right,” answered Mary firmly, “and none should be displeased with that.”
Kenn lost no time in marrying Zuylestein to Jane. The Court was astonished—not so much that Kenn had persuaded Zuylestein to keep his promise to the girl whom he had seduced, but that Mary, knowing that she would most certainly risk her husband’s displeasure, had concurred in this.
When William returned to The Hague he quickly discovered what had happened and was, as everyone had expected he would be, furious. He had decided on a brilliant marriage for his cousin; the House of Orange needed influential alliances. That this chance had been lost was infuriating. And who had been responsible? Kenn and Mary. That Kenn had done this was no surprise; he had summed up the nature of that little man; but Mary, his docile wife, to go against him! It was monstrous.
He was so startled that he sent for Kenn before upbraiding Mary.
The priest came to him unabashed.
“I understand,” said William, “that you take it upon yourself to arrange my family’s alliances while I am away.”
“I only discharge my duty, Your Highness, by righting the wrongs done to a poor girl.”
“I would have you, sir, mind your own affairs and keep your nose out of mine.”
“I must contradict Your Highness and point out that that girl’s soul is my affair.”
“If she is a slut, that is no concern of the House of Orange.”
“If a member of that noble house is responsible for her condition then that is, I fear, the concern of the House of Orange.”
“You are impertinent.”
“And if Your Highness will forgive me, you are unjust.”
“I must ask you to return to England. Your services are no longer required here.”
“I am prepared to go, Your Highness, but I must remind you that I am in the service of the Princess.”
When William was most angry he remained silent. He waved a hand to dismiss Kenn and went to Mary.
“I am grieved and astonished,” he told her.
“I am sorry that you should be so.”
He shot a look at her; her expression was serious. She did not seem to have changed from the meek wife he had come to expect.
“You know to what I refer—this disastrous marriage of my cousin’s.”
“It was a most necessary marriage.”
“With that I cannot agree.”
“Jane was far gone in pregnancy.”
“She should have been sent away to have the child quietly.”
“Your Highness does not know that she had received a promise of marriage from your cousin.”
“Then she was a fool to take it seriously.”
“But she did take it seriously and as a result was with child. Your cousin behaved particularly badly because he induced her to procure a miscarriage which might have killed her and the child.”
“And saved a great deal of trouble.”
Mary’s cheeks grew pink; he expected her now to burst into tears, to ask his forgiveness; but she did no such thing.
“I should have been most distressed to have lost my friend in such a way.”
He was bewildered, realizing that he was more shocked by the change in her than by his cousin’s unfortunate marriage.
“You knew that I would never have permitted this marriage to take place.”
“To my mind it was very necessary that it should take place. Jane’s life would have been ruined. She came to Holland with me, in my care …”