Charles came to see me. He was assiduous in his care for me during that time. I cannot imagine how I could ever have lived through those days without him. I tried to forget his preoccupation with Nell Gwynne and Louise de Keroualle. I saw him as my best friend…unfaithful husband though he might be.

But I understood him now. He had been born with those sexual needs and they were insatiable. No woman would be enough for him. But what a loyal friend he was!

He said: “There is chaos in the streets.”

“It is the funeral,” I said.

“Why did this have to happen now? This…and Coleman. There could have been an end of it.”

“And was Godfrey really murdered?”

“There does not seem a doubt of it.”

“By whom?”

He hesitated. “Oates is a fraud. It may be that he and his friends have done this. He has some knowledge but he cannot resist the impulse to embellish. Remember how I caught him out. He is brimming over with eagerness to present his case…and this is for his own glory. I would dearly love to be rid of the fellow.” He lifted his shoulders. “But what can I do? The people love him…at the moment. They see him as the savior. They could as easily turn against him, though.” He was melancholy for a moment. “None knows more than I how quickly the people can turn. At the moment Oates is exalted. He is the exposer of plotters. This is how the people see him and, for the time being…we must needs go along with them…up to a point.”

“What shall you do?”

“Our first duty is to discover who murdered this man. If it could be proved that he was a robber…”

“But whoever killed him did not take his money.”

“That’s true. If we could prove he was murdered by friends of Oates, that would finish the matter once and for all. I am offering a reward of five hundred pounds for the discovery of the murderer of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey.” He turned to me. “Be of good cheer. These villains shall not harm you while I am here to defend you.”

I was filled with apprehension, but I could not express how happy those words made me.


* * *

THE KING’S OFFER of five hundred pounds brought a new figure into the drama. This was William Bedloe, an ex-convict, adventurer and a man practiced in dishonest business.

He came forward and announced that he had been aware of a plot which was brewing among Catholics. He had made many discoveries and would have put them before the Council himself if Titus Oates had not been just a little ahead of him.

He knew who had murdered Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey. The deed had been done at Somerset House.

As soon as I heard this I knew these people had decided that I should be more deeply incriminated.

What followed confirmed this, and made me even more aware of the danger in which I stood and into which I was sinking deeper every day.

Bedloe declared that he had seen the body of Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey lying on the back stairs of my apartments in Somerset House. According to him, it had been there for two days before it had been removed. My servants had then taken it to the ditch on Primrose Hill to be discovered far away from where the murder had been committed. He had heard the talk of my popish servants, he said, those who had assisted in the murder. The Justice of the Peace had been suffocated between two pillows because he had assisted in bringing to light the details of the Popish Plot.

This was of course a scheme to involve me, and I was now convinced that these people were intent on my destruction.

Bedloe even mentioned the names of two of my servants, who he alleged had committed the murder.

I was thrown into deep distress when they were arrested.

Bedloe said that he was shown the body by a certain member of my household and offered a thousand pounds if he would remove it. This, so he said, he had declined to do.

It was such a wild accusation that I could not believe anyone would give it credence. But it was what the people wanted to hear, and they were ready to accept it.

It was Charles who saved me again.

“The story is clearly nonsense,” he said to me. He himself had been at Somerset House on the day in question and, because of his presence, his guards would have been there. They would have been posted at all exits and entrances and it would have been quite impossible for anyone not of the household to slip in unnoticed.

But the people wanted to believe it…so they did.

Moreover, Danby was still eager to keep public interest in the plot.

Bedloe received his reward; Titus Oates was being paid expenses for his work; and those villains who had been unknown and rejected by society were now heroes. They were continually trying to enhance their importance in the eyes of the people.


* * *

I OFTEN WONDERED where it would end. I had realized by this time that it was the aim of Titus Oates and his friends to attack me and perhaps bring me to the block.

There was a certain furtiveness among those about me. I wondered if they knew more than I did. There were constant references to Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. The King was devoted to Louise de Keroualle. Would he marry her if he could? She had proved herself capable of bearing children. She already had a son by the King. But no. She was another Catholic, so this would be nonsense. A Protestant queen would be found for him.

It was true that the King stood beside me and had proved the evidence of Oates and Bedloe to be false when they had sought to move against me; but such men would believe that in his heart the King must want to be rid of me.

He was still young enough to get a son…an heir to the throne…a Protestant heir, of course. So they set out to trap me. I was now the main target of these wicked men. It was not enough for them that many people — innocent, I was sure — were now in prison awaiting possible death for treason they had never committed.

I would be the big prize. If I were discarded the people would be pleased. They had never wanted me. I was a foreigner, and, most heinous of all at this time, a Catholic.

With the almost hysterical acclamation which greeted him everywhere he went, Oates grew bolder.

The King so far had protected me, but Oates obviously felt he must increase his efforts if he were not to be defeated in bringing me — as he would say — to justice.

There seemed no end to the man’s machinations.

He now said that he had seen a letter in which the Queen’s physician Sir George Wakeman had stated that Her Majesty the Queen had given her assent to the murder of the King. Having seen this letter, in his great determination to save the King’s life and the continuance of a Protestant England, he, Titus Oates, had gone to Somerset House. He did not state on what business, which would have made quite clear the fact that he was lying. But, as I said, people believe what they want to, and there is no doubt that they wanted to believe every shred of “evidence” against me. He was aware, he went on, that several Jesuits were visiting me, which was the reason why he was there. He crept into an audience chamber and hid there. He had seen the Jesuits enter my chamber and, as they had left the door open, he was able to hear what was said.

He had heard me say I was weary of the humiliations I had to suffer through the King’s infidelities and would no longer endure such a state of affairs. I would help Sir George Wakeman to poison my husband and set up the Catholic faith in England.

Charles was very angry. His inclination was to send Titus Oates to the Tower. I could imagine what would have happened if he had. The people would have been in revolt. They had made up their minds that they were going to believe Titus Oates. They had had enough of Catholics and would not suffer another Catholic king on the throne.

Charles sent for Oates. He told me afterward what had taken place.

“I challenged him,” he said. “I suggested that he was lying. He had not been to Somerset House any more than William Bedloe had been when he said he had seen Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey’s body there. I asked him to describe the Queen’s apartments. The confidence of the man is amazing. He has no shame. He blatantly lies with an air of truth. He could not describe your apartments for the simple reason that he has never seen them. He built up a picture of one of the rooms — an audience chamber which could have been in any of the palaces. I told him he was a liar. He just bowed obsequiously, but I saw his evil smile. He knew that if I ordered his arrest the whole of London would be crying out for revenge on any who touched his sacred person. I can tell you, it is a damnable situation. But never fear. I shall make him rue what he has done…one day.”

I knew Charles was right. To have stood out against him now would have resulted in riots…discord throughout the country. Monmouth was waiting somewhere in the shadows…ready for the opportunity when it came.

Who would have believed that so much could have arisen out of the lies of an unscrupulous adventurer?


* * *

COUNT CASTELMELHOR CALLED to see me. The Count was a man on whom I could completely rely. He had left Portugal when my brother Alfonso had been deposed and had remained loyal to him — so he was not welcome at Pedro’s court.

I said to him: “My dear Count, I can see you are very anxious.”

“It is a situation which arouses the utmost anxiety. I am indeed afraid for Your Majesty.”

“These wicked men are telling such terrible lies about me.”

He nodded. “My dear lady, perhaps we should write to your brother.”

“What could Pedro do to help me?”

The Count looked melancholy. “He might protest.”

“To the King? The King hates what is going on as much as I do.”

“But for the King, my lady, I fear they would have had you in the Tower.”

“I know what I owe him. I can only pray that this nightmare will soon end.”

“It is time Oates was recognized for what he is, but he has the people with him. They hate those of our religion. All the resentment created during the reign of Queen Mary is being revived. It is because they fear that Charles will die without an heir and James will be King…a Catholic. That is the only reason why this man Oates has been able to do what he has. They are arresting people everywhere…on this man’s evidence…and it is false…false.”

“I know. Many of them are my friends. Dr. Wakeman is in the Tower accused of attempting to poison the King…and they say that he was to do this with my help. I verily believe that I should be in the Tower at this moment if it were not for the King.”

“It is true. The King stands between you and these villains. Thank God for that. But you are in great danger, and it may be that even the King cannot save you. You must take great care. I think you should write to your brother. It would be better for you to leave the country…perhaps…”

I shook my head. “I would never do that, Count. I shall remain here. I have great faith in my husband.”

“There is something else. I must tell you, for I think it is important that you should understand all and miss nothing. The fact that Oates has been proved to be lying…although the people do not accept this…is forgotten, for Bedloe is now supporting these accusations against you.”

“Bedloe?”

“Yes, my lady. He, also, is now saying that he overheard a conversation between you and two French priests. Coleman was there at the time, he says, and some Jesuits. It was in the gallery of the chapel at Somerset House. He says you were told of the plot to murder the King. At first you wept and said you would have nothing to do with such a plan, and when you were reminded of the King’s infidelities you at length consented to take part in it.”

“What lies!”

“Your Majesty, these people have achieved notoriety through lies.”

“How can people believe their wild tales?”

“Because they want to believe. There are so many who fear a Catholic king on the throne of this country. But they will have to take James…when the time comes.”

“They will not have James.”

“They will…and with God’s help England will in time be brought back to the true faith…but I know there are many who are set against it.”

“They do not like me. There are many who would like to see me in the Tower. They think they will overcome the King’s scruples because he is eager to be rid of me. They see him with the Duchess of Portsmouth. He is so often in her company. He is devoted to the playactress Nell Gwynne. And I am a Catholic and barren. Quite unsuitable, you see. They think it will be safe to tempt him to be rid of me. Sometimes it seems like a miracle that he is determined to stand beside me.”