“They might attempt to corrupt you,” added Father Sancy.

“I would never allow that,” I assured him.

“Nevertheless we cannot afford to run risks,” said the Bishop. “I have made it clear to the King that my masters in France would take a very grave view of having these Huguenots in your bedchamber.”

“Thank you, my lord,” I said, “I am grateful for your care.”

“You must never forget your duty to the Church,” said my confessor.

And I assured them both that I would not forget. I would keep about me my own French attendants who were good Catholics. I would fight with all my might against the heretics.

“Let us kneel and pray that you will be successful in that which God has sent you to England to bring about,” said Father Sancy.

The Bishop was less fanatical, but he was determined—even as Father Sancy was—that I should keep the Protestants out.

I was very cool with the King in our bedchamber at Hampton on the night following the visit of the Bishop and Father Sancy. He knew why, of course, and he was very anxious to placate me. I think he enjoyed those intimacies of the bedchamber far more than I did, and I thought it was perverse of him to show a little rancor because I could not share the same pleasure as he did. The fact was that I should have preferred to go home and live as I had before my marriage. True, to be a queen was gratifying, but I sometimes felt it was not worth all that it entailed.

The King stroked my hair and said it was beautiful. He loved my flashing dark eyes and my clear complexion, even my short stature. I was feminine, he said, all that a woman should be…save in one thing. I did not love my husband enough.

I was silent and he sighed deeply. He said: “It is only because I wish you to learn to speak English…and to love this country that I want you to have English ladies about you.”

“I would not love it the more for that,” I said. “I can accept life here because my friends are with me.”

“But I would be your friend,” he said, “the very best friend you have. I am your husband.”

“I would not lose those who have come with me from France for anything.”

He sighed. He did realize that it was never any use trying to convince me. He believed now that I was the most illogical, unreasoning young woman imaginable, a creature of whims and fancies, lacking completely in control of my feelings.

I know I was the main cause of all the unhappiness of those years. But I could not see it then.

So we retired to bed for our nightly ritual, which I longed to have done with so that I could sleep.

The discord between us continued and it seemed impossible to find an end to it. I knew there was a great deal of comment about the way I and my French friends behaved. We were allowed to celebrate Mass because that was part of the agreement between our two countries and my religious entourage made sure that this was carried out. But it was accepted with resentment. Mamie said the English could never forget that Mary Tudor had burned Protestants in Smithfield and at that time they had made up their minds that they would never be ruled by Catholics again. Then some of their sailors had become prisoners of the Inquisition and brought back tales of torture. The country had turned its back on Catholicism and forgotten, said Mamie, that the Protestants had not always been so kind to the Catholics among them. The English, she decided, were not an intensely religious nation. They were said to be tolerant, but their tolerance was in fact indifference. But although they might not object to Catholics on religious grounds, they were determined not to have another monarch like Mary Tudor, who was fiercely Catholic, having been brought up by her Catholic mother, Katherine of Aragon.

“It is well,” said Mamie, “to understand the people with whom you have to live. Sum them up. Don’t be afraid of them but don’t underrate them.”

I don’t know whether she was right but that was her assessment of them. However, I was allowed to celebrate Mass in the royal palaces with my attendants and we took advantage of this—perhaps a little blatantly. I was too careless then to see that we must inevitably be working toward a climax.

Mamie tried to explain to me what was happening, but I am afraid I found the subject rather boring and only half listened. I knew that she said something about the King’s finding it difficult to fall in with the terms of our marriage treaty without offending his own people and I should really try to be more understanding toward him. He was naturally preoccupied having state matters to think of and my little tantrums must be trying to him. Moreover he could not get French help to fight Spain, and the hope of doing so was one of the reasons why the marriage had been so pleasing to him. It was all very wearying and I shrugged it aside. I did listen a little more intently when she told me that Catholic services were banned in England—except in my household.

“He had better not try to stop me and my servants worshipping God,” I cried.

“He would not. That would be going against the marriage treaty.”

“Well, let us talk of something more interesting.”

She sighed and shook her head over me. Then I rushed to her and kissed her and she was laughing at me.

When the King dissolved Parliament he looked more stern than ever and said that he was going to the New Forest to hunt for a while. He thought I might not wish to go with him and he was right in that. Perhaps, he said, I would like to stay at Tichfield, which was the estate of the Earl of Southampton.

I was delighted to be relieved of his company and was very merry surrounded by my French attendants, riding with Mamie beside me to Tichfield; but I was a little put out on reaching the house to find that the Countess of Denbigh was there. I was prepared to loathe anyone connected with the Duke of Buckingham and she was his sister. Moreover she was one of those women whom he had tried to force me to accept into my bedchamber.

In the solitude of my apartment, Mamie and I discussed her. Mamie thought she was a very strong-minded woman and advised me to be careful in my dealings with her.

“Don’t show that you dislike her. Don’t forget that although you may dislike the Duke of Buckingham, he is the most powerful man in the country under the King, and it is unwise to offend him too much.”

But when had I ever been wise? I always listened to Mamie’s advice but I only took it when I wanted to.

“What is this Buckingham family?” I cried. “They were nothing before little Steenie attracted King James—and in a manner that is a disgrace to morality.”

“Hush,” said Mamie.

I snapped my fingers at her. “Don’t tell me to hush. Remember who I am.”

“Oh,” said Mamie, “on our high horse now, are we? Shall I bow low to Your Majesty and walk out on all fours?”

She could always make me laugh and that was why I loved her so much.

I went on: “It shows they were nothing…otherwise she would never have married William Feilding. Who was he, pray, before the earldom was bestowed on him? A commoner who had the good fortune to marry Susan Villiers. He would not have been allowed to unless he had done so before her brother caught the King’s eye with his pretty face and made the family fortunes.”

“My word, you have probed into the family history.”

“Well, I happen to be interested in these odious connections of Buckingham’s, and don’t forget they tried to force Susan Villiers into my bedchamber.”

“The Countess of Denbigh now.”

“A title bestowed by the good graces of her brother who wants to see all his family in influential places. Oh, he has to be watched, that one.”

“And you will do the watching?”

I said: “You are laughing at me again. I forbid it.”

“Then I will hide my laughter and present always a serious countenance to Your Majesty.”

“That is what I could not bear. There is too much solemnity around me already.”

I will admit, when looking back, that I behaved in an unseemly fashion toward the Countess of Denbigh; but then she was hardly within her rights in her conduct toward me.

She professed to be very religious and it was quite clear that she deplored the fact that Mass was celebrated at Tichfield. I will not try to pretend that I did not arrange for our services to take place as ostentatiously as I could, and those about me—perhaps with the exception of Mamie—did all they could to encourage me.

It was Mamie who told me that the Countess of Denbigh had decided that she would arrange a Protestant service to take place in the great hall at Tichfield. All the household should assemble and take part—with, of course, the exception of mine.

I was rather pleased because courtesy would demand that as the Queen was in the house her permission would have to be asked.

I discussed it with Mamie.

“I shall refuse it,” I said.

“You cannot,” replied Mamie, shocked.

“I can and I will.”

“It would be a grave mistake. Listen, my dearest, you are a fervent Catholic, but you are in a country where the Protestant religion is maintained. You must graciously give your consent and while the service is going on remain in your apartments. There is nothing else to be done.”

“Why does she arrange this while I am here?”

“Perhaps to show that while the country has a Catholic Queen, it is staunchly Protestant.”

“Then I shall refuse.”

“Please do not. It would be folly. They would hold it against you. It would get to the King’s ears…worse still, to those of his ministers. It would not be tolerated to forbid these people to worship in the accepted religion of the country.”

I pressed my lips firmly together. In my heart I knew that she was right, but I could not stop myself rehearsing what I would say to Susan Villiers when she came to ask my permission.

Mamie was not with me when one of my attendants came rushing into my apartments.

“My lady,” cried my attendant breathlessly, “what do you think? There is a service going on in the great hall. The whole household…the Protestant household…is gathered there.”

I was aghast.

So, she had not bothered to ask my permission. This was a double insult. First to arrange the service while I was under this roof, then to carry it out without asking my permission.

What could I do? I was not going to ask Mamie this time because I knew she would say “Nothing.” But I was enraged and I wanted it to be known.

I had an idea. I would not go down and demand that it be stopped, which was my first reaction. I would disrupt it in such a manner as I could not be called to task for.

I gathered together a group of my attendants and told them we were going to take out the dogs. We all loved our little dogs and most of the ladies had several. We put them on their leads and I led my party down to the hall where the assembled company was kneeling in prayer. I walked across the hall to the door, my attendants following me. The dogs yapped and barked and ran about; we laughed at their antics and chatted animatedly, behaving as though we could not see the people at prayer.

At length we came out into the courtyard, laughing together. But I did not intend that it should end there. I sent about six of the ladies back to bring a kerchief for me. They went, taking their dogs with them, and I stood at the door exulting in the noise they made.

When they returned, I cried in a loud voice, “The air is a little cold. I think I will not walk today.” Then we all trooped back. Someone was preaching but his voice was drowned in the commotion we made.

Of course everyone was shocked by what had happened—Mamie as much as anyone.

They were all talking about it. I said that I should have been consulted and that to conduct such a service without my permission was a breach of good manners; but I think that most people thought that her fault in not asking my permission was slight compared with the way in which I and my attendants had acted.

Deep shock was expressed about my behavior. Mamie was the first to tell me that I should never have behaved as I did and that it would be remembered and held against me. Perhaps the Countess had been remiss but what I had done amounted to an insult to the Protestant religion.

I said I did not care and would do it again, which made Mamie despair.

When the King returned from his hunting trip he said nothing about the incident but I felt sure he had heard of it. There was a certain determination added to his usual sternness, and I wondered whether he was planning something.