The Loves of Charles II by Jean Plaidy Read Free Book Online

“I am Minette, Charles’ Minette.”
    He kissed her and let her pull his long dark curly hair.
    “I wondered when I should see you again, Minette,” he told her. “I thought mayhap I never should.”
    “You are so big to be a brother,” she said.
    “That’s because I’m the eldest of the family. I was fourteen years old when you were born.”
    She did not fully understand, so she laughed and clasped his arm to her little body to show how much she loved him.
    He held her tightly. It was wonderful to be with one of his own flesh and blood. He wondered whether all his family would ever be together again. He was only a boy but he had been with his father in battle, and he knew that events were moving against his family. He was quiet and shy; he enjoyed the company of women, but they must not be haughty ladies like his cousin Mademoiselle de Montpensier; he liked humbler girls, girls who liked him because he was young and, although not handsome, had a way with him. He was particularly shy here in France because he knew that they laughed at his French accent; and although he himself was ready to laugh at it—for he knew it to be atrocious, and he never tried to see himself other than the way he was—he was too young, too unsure of himself, to be able to endure the ironic laughter of others. He remembered continually that he was a Prince whose future was in jeopardy, and that made him cautious.
    So it was wonderful to be with this affectionate little sister; she was so frail but pretty, and she had the Stuart eyes and the promise of Stuart gaiety. It was good, Charles decided, to have a family.
    He had escaped from his companion, his cousin Prince Rupert, who spoke French perfectly and was considered to be a fine soldier in spite of his defeat at Marston Moor. He had escaped from his mother and her continual prodding, her many instructions as to how he must set about wooing his cousin, Mademoiselle of France.
    “I love you, little sister,” he whispered, “oh, so much more than haughty Mademoiselle.”
    “Charles,” murmured the little girl, as she pulled his black hair and watched the curls spring back into place, “will you stay with me, Charles?”
    “I shall have to go away soon, Minette.”
    “No! Minette says no!”
    He touched her cheek. “And Minette’s commands should be obeyed.”
    Lady Dalkeith left them together; she was very fond of the Prince andrejoiced to see the signs of affection between the brother and sister. She thought: Perhaps I could speak to him about her religious instruction. He knows the wish of his father. But how could I go against the Queen? How could I carry tales of his mother to the Prince? The child is too young to absorb very much at this stage. I will wait. Who knows what will happen?
    “Were you little once?” Henriette asked her brother when they were alone.
    “Yes, I was little, and so ugly that our mother was ashamed of me; I was very solemn, so they thought that I was wise. Dear sister, when in ignorance remain silent and look wise. You will then be judged profound.”
    Henriette could not understand what he meant, but she laughed with him; her laughter came of contentment.
    He talked to her as he could not talk to others. He talked wistfully of his youth. He talked of England, where he had once been the most important of little boys; he told of playing in the gardens of palaces with his brother James and his sister Mary; they had played hide-and-seek on wet days through the great rooms of Hampton Court and Whitehall, and on fine days in the gardens, hiding among the trees, stalking each other through alleys of neatly trimmed yews. Best of all he loved to watch the ships on the river; so he told her how he used to lie in the grass for hours at Greenwich, watching the ships pass by.
    “But, Minette, you do not know of these things, and I am a fool to talk to you, for in talking to you I am really talking to myself, and that is a foolhardy thing to do when such talk