Garlands of Gold (13 page)

‘That’s true. Those of us who were with the royal exile were lucky to be out of it and it gave me the opportunity to train to be an architect with an exceptionally brilliant tutor. Now we have a King in his rightful place, a man that truly enjoys all the good things in life. In a way he is the patron of all theatres since nobody enjoys a well-performed play and other entertainments more than he.’

She thought to herself that indeed the King was a friend of the theatre, for it was well known that he had even taken a mistress from its ranks, a copper-haired actress, named Nell Gwyn.

‘So now with the Restoration fully established it is as if Cromwell had never been,’ he added with a smile. ‘We can all sing our hearts out in the market place or on the stage or in church and anywhere else we fancy.’

‘I intend to do the same in the new St Paul’s Cathedral one day,’ she said confidently. ‘They say it is going to be beautiful beyond belief.’

‘That will be a long while yet,’ he answered seriously. ‘The final plan has not yet been approved by either the King or the clergy. I was at the site recently. It is still being cleared of the burned-out ruins, but of course nothing remains of the priceless library it housed or its beautiful altar silver and tapestries. So many treasures of every kind were lost during the Great Fire that can never be replaced.’

‘It was a tragedy in many ways,’ she said with a nod. ‘Did you see Master Wren there?’

‘Yes, he stood in the middle of the site in discussion with one of his assistants when something caught his eyes. I saw him pick up a piece of stone from the old cathedral and it was marked with the Latin inscription
Resurgam
, which means “I shall rise again”. He held it up for those of us around him to see as he declared that the cathedral would indeed rise again and these words of hope would be engraved at a selected place in the new cathedral where it could always be seen.’

‘I find that quite moving,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘What sort of man is Master Wren?’

‘He is a quiet man and deeply religious, which is why he has a strict rule for those working for him, whether they be assistant architects or humble bricklayers.’

‘What is the rule?’

‘It is that foul oaths of even a minor nature are strictly forbidden under the pain of instant dismissal if uttered on a holy site during the rebuilding of the cathedral or any of the churches.’

She thought it commendable, but judging from what she had heard in the dockyard she thought it would be far from easy for those to whom rough speech was normal.

‘How do you know that?’ she asked.

‘It came up in a conversation I had with him, and in any case it is a well-known fact in building spheres.’ He did not intend to divulge what else Wren had said to him, but it had been a pious man’s fierce rebuke for a young man’s way of life that did not match his own.

‘Mend your ways, Harting,’ the architect had said. ‘Less wine, women and song and then I’ll consider your application to assist me, because I need skills such as yours for this vast project. But tainted hands have no place in the planning or the supervision of the church rebuilding that I would delegate in all the time ahead.’

Robert was unaware that he frowned as he recalled the damning nature of those words. It still galled him that he was being denied the work he wanted above all else, even though he was busy enough with other commissions. Architects were in great demand during this present housing crisis in the aftermath of the Great Fire.

‘Do you think the King will visit this new theatre when it opens?’ Saskia was asking.

Robert mentally dismissed the unpleasant interview and smiled at her. ‘Yes, I’m sure he will. Probably on the opening night, because Mr Betterton intends to appear in the first performance and he is an actor well liked by His Majesty.’

‘If there is a royal visit,’ she declared merrily, ‘somehow I shall be there to give the King a cheer when he goes inside.’

‘I have a better suggestion,’ Robert said, his eyes amused. ‘After our Merry Monarch has been seated in the royal box I’ll arrange that you have the next best seat in the house!’

She laughed, not taking him seriously. ‘If that were possible, I should think it a dream come true.’

‘Then that shall be fulfilled on the opening night.’

She drew back in her chair, suddenly realizing that their conversation was going along lines that were not of her choosing. ‘It has been fun to daydream, but real life is very different. Now I must go.’

He rose to his feet with her. ‘I always keep my word.’

For a matter of seconds she met his serious gaze and felt her mood change. How had she managed to forget for a short time that she saw him as a dangerous shadow on her life? She believed that almost from the start she had seen him as a barrier standing between her and the man she would always love.

‘Good day, Master Harting. I thank you for the coffee,’ she said, suddenly anxious to get away.

He went outside with her and wished her well. As she hurried on her way he watched her disappear down the street. He was well aware that there had been fear in her eyes during those last few seconds before she had swung away and the reason puzzled him. Then he promised himself that one day he would see passion in her gaze, for he believed that when loved she would ignite like tinder to a flame.

Saskia had just finished colouring the roots of Mistress Henrietta’s hair when there was a knock on the boudoir door. Wiping her hands, she opened it to take a silver salver, bearing a letter, from the manservant presenting it. Mistress Henrietta recognized the handwriting immediately. ‘It is from my darling god-daughter, Elizabeth! Now I shall hear when she will be coming to live with me or whether,’ she added anxiously, holding the letter briefly to her chest, ‘she has decided otherwise!’

‘I hope it is good news, madam,’ Saskia said sincerely.

Mistress Henrietta broke the seal on the letter and almost at once gave an exclamation of joy. ‘She’s coming!’

Saskia wiped away a trickle of colour running down the side of her mistress’s happy face. She had heard talk of the girl, whose mother had been Mistress Henrietta’s best friend from childhood. Sadly the woman had died when her daughter was only twelve years old, and her father had soon married again. His second wife had had no interest in children and least of all in her stepdaughter, whose presence she had bitterly resented.

‘After Elizabeth’s father passed away two years ago,’ Mistress Henrietta explained after she had read the letter through a second time, ‘I invited his widow to bring my god-daughter and stay for a while. I had thought to give them both some comfort in their grief. Elizabeth did benefit from being with me, but her wretched stepmother treated her so badly that I lost my temper and ordered the woman to depart, intending to keep the girl with me. But she would not allow it and I had no authority to go against her will.’

‘So how is the young woman able to come now?’ Saskia asked with interest.

‘Because her stepmother is marrying again, a wealthy alderman with a grand house full of servants, which means that in her jealous hatred of Elizabeth’s charm and vitality she does not want to be outshone in her new social circle. The girl has had a most ardent suitor herself, a young man with looks and money, but she has not accepted him.’

Saskia began to look forward to Elizabeth’s coming almost as much as Mistress Henrietta, for it would be enjoyable to have someone else young in the house, even though it would mean a change of routine.

‘You shall wait on her, Saskia,’ Mistress Henrietta had said. ‘She has had no personal maid herself, simply because her disagreeable stepmother was so miserly with her. It is right that she should have someone as young as herself in attendance. I happen to know of an experienced lady’s maid in need of employment, who has been highly recommended and she will do me very nicely.’

‘But, madam,’ Saskia had protested, ‘I could wait on you both.’

‘No, that would never work.’ Mistress Henrietta made a dismissive gesture. ‘So often both Elizabeth and I would need you at the same time.’

The new personal maid moved in next morning. She had served a minor member of the Royal family and had given herself airs ever since. Her name was Martha Cooper, her age forty and her attitude condescending towards Saskia, whose youth and beauty she immediately resented.

‘I suggest that we start as we mean to go on, Saskia,’ she announced. ‘You shall not borrow or otherwise interfere with any of my beauty powders, creams and so forth while I shall treat yours with the same respect. Neither shall you voice any criticism of my methods if they differ from yours, and I will keep equally silent for the same reason. We shall always keep to the realms of our ladies’ individual boudoirs unless there is a crisis when we might need each other’s help. Do you agree?’

‘Wholeheartedly,’ Saskia replied, wary of this woman’s attitude, but wanting to keep on agreeable terms. Remembering how Amalia had welcomed her on her first day she made the same offer. ‘Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?’

Martha gave a gracious nod that a certain duchess, whom she had once served, might have envied. She was satisfied that she had put this girl in her place. ‘Yes, you may make me one, but I’ll drink it in my own room.’

Saskia raised an eyebrow as she turned away and went down to the kitchen for hot water. She hoped that the new young mistress, whom she awaited, would not have such airs and graces when she came.

Six

C
hristmas was over and the holly and other greenery had been taken down on Twelfth Night when Elizabeth arrived. As a last spiteful act her stepmother had denied her the joy of the merry time she would have had at Rushmere House. All the servants immediately lined up in the hall as soon as the Rushmere coach, which had been sent to collect her, was seen coming through the gates. A few flakes of snow had begun to fall.

Saskia was wearing her Nordland lace cap, which she was allowed to do on special occasions or in her free time. She tried to peer forward to see the new arrival as Mistress Henrietta swept out on to the steps to embrace her guest, but it was not until the girl entered the hall that Saskia had a full view of her.

Elizabeth was fair-haired and of average height with a hand-span waist comparable to Saskia’s own. She was not pretty in the conventional sense, for her face was narrow with high cheekbones and her nose, although well formed with delicate nostrils, was long, but she had an impish look about her and her eyes were a hazelnut brown, thickly lashed under fine brows. Saskia knew already that the new arrival was her own age, their natal days only two months apart.

‘So you are to wait on me,’ Elizabeth said happily when Saskia was presented to her. ‘You are as pretty as your unusual Christian name. I’m sure I shall be very content in your care.’

It was a good beginning. Saskia gave a silent sigh of relief as she bobbed a curtsy in acknowledgement.

While Elizabeth took tea with Mistress Henrietta in the green drawing room Saskia unpacked the single travelling box that had been taken up to the guest’s boudoir. She was surprised at how little the young woman had brought with her. Carefully packed on top of the garments were two little Chelsea figurines of a shepherd and a shepherdess, which Saskia placed on the polished rosewood surface of a clothes press. A small jewel box went on the dressing table and a satin handkerchief sachet showed that it contained a slim packet of letters tied with a pink ribbon. Saskia smiled as she put the sachet beside the silver-backed hairbrush, comb and hand-mirror. It seemed as if Elizabeth had a sweetheart.

She turned to face the door as she heard Elizabeth approaching and bobbed the customary curtsy as the girl entered.

‘You’ve put everything away already,’ the girl said with pleasure, glancing about the room.

‘There was only one travelling box. Have you more to be delivered?’

Elizabeth shook her head. ‘No. In any case, I didn’t have very much in my wardrobe to bring with me.’ She wandered across to the clothes closet. ‘These figurines were a gift to me from my late mother and my stepmother thought them worthless, which was why she allowed me to keep them. Everything else that belonged to Mama was tossed out by her long ago, except valuable things, which she sold for her own benefit.’ She adjusted very slightly the position of the shepherdess. ‘I like them to look directly at each other, because I believe that they are in love.’

‘I’m sure you are right,’ Saskia agreed, liking the little fantasy.

Elizabeth looked around again with a little sigh of satisfaction. ‘I stayed in this room when I was here a year ago. I had no idea then that within such a short time this dear house would become my home. In my early childhood I used to come with my mother on visits. We always had such a happy time. Now Godmother Henrietta wants me to make my arrival here today into the beginning of a new life for me.’

‘I’m sure it will be,’ Saskia said, smiling.

Elizabeth clasped her hands together excitedly. ‘It is already arranged that tomorrow a seamstress will come with patterns and fashion-dolls for me to choose a whole new wardrobe! So I want you to advise me on what you think would suit me best.’

Saskia raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘But surely Mistress Henrietta, who is a lady of fashion, would wish to help you choose?’