Philippa Carr - Lament for a Lost Lover

Nobody would want to dress like a Puritan now. Would it henceforth be as dangerous to do so as it was before to wear laces and ribbons?

My mother came into my room. She looked at me rather tremulously and said: “I keep thinking that you are my little girl, but of course you are grown up now.”

“A widow and a mother,” I reminded.

“Dearest Arabella, you are going to be happy here. I know it.”

“I shall try, Mother.”

“Matilda is a good woman. I know she talks a great deal and seems superficial at times, but she really is not so. She loves you. Small wonder. You have eased her tragedy. She can be happy again in you and the boy. I know that Lord Eversleigh is grateful to you. They have said you are now their daughter and they will do anything for your happiness.”

“I know, Mother.”

“And Charlotte? She does not make friends easily but I think she likes you too.”

“Yes, I think she does, Mother.”

“There is the cousin.”

“Carleton?” I said sharply.

“I don’t quite know what to make of him. He was wonderful during the years. He was our most reliable agent in the country. Much of the success of all that is happening is due to him. He sent us information regularly. And yet …”

“You don’t like him, Mother?”

“I can’t say that. I don’t know him. I fancy few do and that it would take a long time. Of course he has believed himself to be the heir to all this … which he would have been but for Edwin. I wonder how he feels about that? He gives no sign, does he?”

“Would you expect him to?”

“No, but I should expect to be able to judge what he is feeling from his conduct.”

“Oh, Mother, you want to be a seer. I agree with you. I don’t like him. But I shall not allow him to bother me.”

She nodded. “You will be able to take care of yourself, I don’t doubt. Never forget we shall not be far away. Both your father and I are happy to leave you in good hands. You have had some experience of life.” She frowned slightly. “I am a little anxious about Harriet Main’s child.”

“Oh, Mother, he is but a baby … an adorable baby.”

“Has it occurred to you that his presence here might be difficult for Charlotte to bear? He is the child of the man she was hoping to marry … How would she feel to find that child in her home?”

“She seems fond of him, Mother, as she does of Edwin. Charlotte is too sensible to blame an innocent child.”

“Perhaps so,” she said. “Well, my dearest, we shall say au revoir. It is a comfort to know that you are not far off.”

I stood between my parents-in-law watching the departure of my parents and brothers and sister. Charlotte was with us.

I went back in the house feeling that I had passed through one phase and a new one had begun.

THE TWENTY-NINTH OF MAY of the year 1660—what an unforgettable day that was! We must all be in the capital for the King’s ceremonial entry. How fitting it was that it should be His Majesty’s thirtieth birthday.

We had travelled to London on the previous day and taken up residence in the Eversleighs’ town house which, through his careful conduct, Carleton had managed to keep in the family in much the same manner as he had Eversleigh Court. Alas, he had not been able to put away treasures from this house, there being no secret hiding place, but he had, with great daring, carried a few of them from London to Eversleigh Court and it had been possible to bring a few back. So we found the house not so austere as it might have been.

What a happy scene that was! The city seemed to have gone mad with joy. It was clear that all believed that the evil days were over and that a new heaven had come on earth. As we rode out from our lodgings—myself and Charlotte with Carleton and Lord and Lady Eversleigh—we had difficulty in getting through the crowded streets. Lord Eversleigh in his splendid uniform was cheered. Clearly he was one of the King’s generals, and I knew that my father, who would be making his way through these streets, would be getting the same acclamation.

We were to go to London Bridge, where the grand procession was being organized. From there we would join the King, who would be journeying from Rochester through Dartford to Blackheath.

There was my father and mother with Lucas. I was so proud of my father who looked magnificent in his uniform. He was a very distinguished-looking man, and my heart warmed to him because I knew of the great love between him and my mother and that I was a living result of it. I felt very emotional in that moment and infinitely sad because my own husband had been taken from me.

The crowd was growing and the shouts were deafening. It was all “Long live the King.” It seemed incredible that a few months before these people would not have dared mention his name.

A woman was beside Carleton—a tall woman who sat her horse most gracefully. She was what I would only call voluptuous, and there was a black patch on her temple to accentuate the beauty of her large brown eyes.

“I must present you to my wife,” said Carleton.

I felt a shudder of revulsion which was inexplicable. I had heard that he had a wife. What was it Edwin had said? They go their own ways. It suits them.

“Madam,” he said to his wife, “allow me to present my new cousin. Edwin’s widow.”

“I have heard of you,” said Barbary Eversleigh. “You have a fine son, I believe.”

I noticed that she threw a mischievous look at Carleton, as though she knew that the birth of my son had baulked his ambitions, and this gave her pleasure.

“I have heard of you, too,” I said. “Are you often at Eversleigh Court?”

“Rarely,” she answered. “Even though, I believe, my husband is frequently there.”

She was studying me intently, as though taking in every detail of my appearance. I felt uncomfortable, and I was glad that at that moment the trumpets announced that the King’s arrival was imminent.

Barbary drew in her mount and brought it closer to Carleton’s.

In the van of the processions were three hundred men of the Trainbands dressed in cloth-of-silver doublets; twelve hundred followed in velvet coats and then came the footmen in purple livery. Brilliantly coloured uniforms were everywhere—buff-coated soldiers, with sleeves of cloth of silver, wearing rich green scarves; there were men clad in blue, laced with silver, followed by the members of the City Companies in their black velvet coats and chains.

As this passed the great moment had arrived. There, between his two brothers, rode the slim, dark man, and as he appeared, shouts went up from thousands of throats: “God save the King.”

“A health unto His Majesty.” These citizens were in love with him. He had a natural charm which it was impossible not to be aware of. His happiness in being back was obvious to all. There could scarcely have been a man or woman in the multitude who did not believe that this was the day he or she had been waiting for all through the dreary years of Puritan rule.

His thirtieth birthday! Not too young but still young enough. He was tall, very tall, so that he towered above his fellows; some might judge his dark, rather saturnine face ugly, but none could deny his charm. If any man in that press of people had dared raise his voice against good King Charles, he would have been hung by his neck on the nearest tree. From every church the bells were ringing; people had hung tapestries across the streets, from windows girls and women threw flowers at the King as he passed. There were trumpets and music and banners fluttering in the light breeze. Never had a people shown its monarch such loyalty; and because he had come home and not a drop of blood had been shed to bring him to his rightful kingdom, they loved him the more.

People danced. They scooped up the wine which flowed from the fountains. That night some would be drunk and perhaps quarrelsome, but for the moment it was all joy.

How exhilarating it was! I was caught up in the euphoric joy, and I really felt, as I rode through the streets of London, that this was the start of a new life.

Then I saw her in the crowd. She was riding with Sir James Gilley and she was clearly the most attractive woman there. She was dressed in blue velvet and in her hat was a long curling feather. She looked pleased and happy, and I felt a pang of anger to think that she could as easily abandon her child.

I tried to push my horse through the crowd to reach her, when I felt a restraining hand on my reins.

It was Carleton’s.

“You can’t reach her,” he said. “You should not try. The daughter-in-law of Lord Eversleigh should not openly consort with harlots.”

I felt the colour flame into my cheeks.

“How … how dare you say that of …”

“Oh, good and loyal Arabella,” he whispered. “Dear, sweet, simple Arabella! That woman is no friend to you. You should stop thinking of her as such.”

“How can you know who is and who is not my friend?”

He brought his face close to mine. It looked mocking. “I know a great deal,” he said, “I was not born yesterday.”

“And nor was I.”

“Who shall say how long ago was yesterday?”

I ignored him, still looking at Harriet.

“You should send her bastard back to her,” he said. “Why should you be responsible for her mistakes?”

As I turned my horse away from him, I heard him laugh softly.

“Temper!” he whispered. “On such a day. Of course it may be that your good friend Harriet will soon be back, begging for admittance. It is well known that James Gilley doesn’t keep his women long. He’s a good husband, really, and does his duty by his wife. Now he is back he’ll keep her pleasantly in Shropshire with a growing family, which well gives evidence that he visits her when he considers it necessary. If she had been in London today, he would have ridden with her. He never thinks of his women as anything but what they are.”

“It seems,” I said curtly, “that he is a most cynical man.”

“You might say that of many of us. How, my dear, good Arabella, shall you adjust yourself to this wicked society?”

“I have no doubt that there are virtuous people even in …”

“Restoration London,” he finished. “Perhaps so. Well, it will be interesting to see …”

“To see what?”

“How you like the new life. Come. You are scowling. People watch us. It is not in the mood of today to quarrel. You must smile. Everything has changed. You must believe that now the King is home, England has become a paradise.”

“Is that what you believe?”

“No more than you do.”

“What is he telling you?” asked Barbary. “Don’t believe it. He’s a deceiver, you know.”

“There speaks my loyal wife,” said Carleton, raising his eyes to heaven.

They made me feel very uneasy, those two. I couldn’t stop thinking of what he had said about Harriet and her lover. And I wondered with an anticipation tinged with satisfaction when she would come seeking shelter from me.

I could see problems ahead. It would be different in Eversleigh Court from what it had been in Congrève. I was still thinking of this during the banquet in the King’s honour, for belonging to two loyal families I was naturally entitled to be present at this.

I listened to the King, I was given his strangely appealing smile. He was a man whom women loved rather than men.

I heard him say in a musical voice which was not the least of his charms: “It must surely have been my fault that I did not come before. I have met no one today who did not protest that he always wished for my restoration.”

This was murmured with a sardonic look, and I saw the cynical lips lifted in a smile. I thought then that he would be immune from all the flattery, and that, though he liked this outward manifestation of his country’s approval, he suspected its depth. He could see below the glittering surface.

There in the banqueting hall I thought of Harriet, and I wondered what the future held for us all.

After the ceremonies were completed I went back to Eversleigh Court with Matilda, my father-in-law, Charlotte and Carleton. Barbary did not come with us. The days had been stimulating yet exhausting, and I hated to leave my son for longer than a few days. Even then he was in my thoughts all the time. Matilda laughed at me indulgently. “You don’t really trust anyone else to look after him, do you?” she said.