A William and Mary Timeline: For Want Of An Heir

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 1: Manchester​

April, 1692​

It was cold, even though there was a fire blazing in the hearth. It shouldn’t be this cold. Nowhere should be this cold. London would most definitely not be this cold at this time of year, and yet, Brussels was not London, and so it was terrifyingly cold.



Charles Montagu, Earl of Manchester and Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard, thought that he should be used to it by now, after all, he’d accompanied the King on his sojourns here since the war had started. Yet, he was not used to it, and he was not sure if he would ever become used to it.



He huffed out a breath and glanced at the man sat to his right. Sir William Ratcliffe was a tall man, with a mop of auburn hair and fiercely bright blue eyes. The man claimed descent from one of Richard III’s closest advisors, how true that descent was, Charles was not sure, but the man was loyal and a friend and that was what mattered.



They had both insisted that the Yeomen accompany the King to Brussels, or at least half of them accompanied the King. They were the oldest guard that the English monarch had, and it was their right. Whatever the 1st Regiment of Foot or Coldstream Guards might say, it was their right to protect the monarch and they would do it. Charles had inherited that tradition and that sense of honour from his predecessors.



The King had agreed, reluctantly, and that too only after a conversation with the Queen. The man preferred the Dutch Guards that he had known since his youth, clearly thinking that they were the most reliable. And yet Charles had made sure that the Yeomen were all loyal to the King and Queen. Anyone with any suspected loyalties to the old Catholic King had been removed.



There was a knock on the door which prompted Charles to glance at Sir William. Who could it be that wanted to talk to the King at this hour? Yes, Portland was in the King’s study, but Portland was always there.



Charles gestured to Sir William and the man got up and opened the door. He stepped to one side, allowing a page to step into the room. The page’s face was flushed and he was breathing heavily.



“What is it?” Charles demanded.



The page bowed and replied. “Two letters have arrived for His Majesty’s viewing, my lord.”



Charles didn’t look at Sir William. There was only one place that these letters could’ve come from. London. Charles knew that the King wanted any letter that the Queen sent to him, handed over immediately, regardless of the day or time. Therefore he held out his hand and the page walked to him and handed over the letters.



“Dismissed.” Charles barked. The page bowed once more before walking out.



Charles glanced at Sir William, the man had taken his seat again. Charles nodded, then turned and walked to the door that led to the King’s study. He knocked thrice to let the King know that it was he who wanted to see him.



“Enter!” Came the command.



Charles waited, and the door was opened, revealing a member of the Yeomen of the Guard. Charles nodded to the man and stepped passed him. He entered the study properly and found the King sat at his table, papers scattered everywhere. Portland, the sly little snake, was sat opposite the King, lounging in his chair.



Charles bowed. “Two letters have arrived, Sire.”



“Hand them over.” The King commanded.



Charles did as he was commanded, he straightened and walked over to the table, he placed them on the solid surface, bowed then stepped away. As Captain of the Yeomen, he could not leave the room until specifically dismissed by the King. His subordinates in the Guard stood in the corners of the room, ever alert.



He watched as the King opened one letter and read through it, something shifted in his face. It was as if some great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Indeed, it seemed as if he was torn between wanting to smile and wanting to cry. That was unnerving.



The King finished reading that letter and placed it to one side, and then opened the second letter.



This time there was no uncertainty in his emotion. The King closed his eyes and took two deep breaths. It was as if he was trying to calm himself. As though he had been exposed to some great horror and was trying to learn how to process it.



When he had calmed down, he put that second letter on the table and looked up.



Nobody said anything for a moment, Charles wanted to ask what the King had read, but he knew that doing so was in poor form and so he waited. Portland also seemed uncertain of how to proceed, which was in of itself notable. Usually, Portland was always in tune with what the King wanted and needed.



The King broke the silence.



He looked from Charles to Portland and back. “Word from Saint Germain. It seems that my father in law has suffered some sort of stroke, he passed away in the early hours two weeks ago.”



Charles nodded, taking the news in, the death of the old King was good, it meant that the real threat of another invasion had been greatly reduced.



“King Louis has not yet declared for the man’s child.” The King continued.



That was also good news, though Charles could not help but ask. “What of the fleet that the French had gathered, Sire?” They had known about that fleet for a few months now and about the invasion plans that the French had as well.



“No word on that matter, but it does seem as though Louis intends to use that fleet for another purpose.” The King said.



Charles nodded, accepting what the King said. If there was a chance in circumstance, they could always adapt to it.



“The second letter came from the Queen.” The King said.



That prompted Charles to straighten, well, more the tone in which the King had mentioned the Queen.



“Our nephew, the Duke of Gloucester has died.” The King said softly.



Charles blinked, that news was…it was not good. The Duke of Gloucester had carried the hopes of the Kingdom on his small shoulders, especially as the King and Queen as of yet had no children. With him dead, all depended on Princess Anne having more children, which given how things had progressed for her recently, was not positive.



“I am so sorry for your loss, Your Majesty.” Portland said then, which prompted Charles to speak.



“I too am very sorry for your loss, Your Majesty.”



The King nodded. “Thank you, now, unless there was anything else, you may go, Charles.”



“Sire.” Charles replied. He bowed once, then walked away, facing the King. Once the door was open and he was back with Sir William, he sat down and exhaled.



Things were going to get a lot more interesting, was that a good thing?

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 2: The Queen​

April, 1692​

Mary blinked, the candle light was starting to fade. The hour was late, and she desperately wanted to sleep, but she knew she could do no such thing until she had finished reading through the notes that had come from Parliament.



With William, away on the continent, it was her duty to read through the notes that the government ministers made on how things were being discussed in both chambers of Parliament. It made for very dry reading, but it was a necessity, and Mary had never been one to shirk her duty.



The note before her was from the Marquess of Carmarthen, the titular head of the ministry. He was not a man that Mary liked, but he was skilled, of that there could be no doubt. She took a breath and read through what he had written.



The debate of the Place Bill continues.



There is some support from men such as Halifax and Devonshire, as they feel that it could keep members of the Tory party out of the Commons, which would always benefit them.



However, moderates such as Shrewsbury and Pembroke feel that the Place Bill will do nothing but distance Your Majesties and Your Majesties’ ministers from the mood of the Commons and as such, the overwhelming feeling is that should the Place Bill pass in the Commons (not a guarantee!) that it would be in Your Majesties best interest to frustrate the bill in the Lords.



Mary placed her hand in front of her mouth and stifled a yawn. She truly was tired! Carmarthen was right in what he said. She knew that. This Place Bill that had been introduced by the member for Cambridgeshire, was something that she had long suspected they would try and introduce. After all, she remembered the arguments over ministers being in the Commons that had dominated the chaotic years of her uncle’s reign.



She would not allow her ministers to be removed from the Commons. Not so long as she was alive and retained an understanding of the constitution.



She scribbled a note down on Carmarthen’s note.



Instruct Carmarthen to get the Tories to speak against this bill with full force!



Perhaps it was wrong of her to be partial, but the Tories were defending the Crown’s prerogative, and Mary remembered very well the lessons that she had been taught as a girl. When Parliament was allowed unfettered power, it would always try and strip the monarchy of power-as they had done to her grandfather-and that was not something that could be allowed. Not now.



There was more to Carmarthen’s note, which prompted Mary to take a deep breath.



There are murmurs within the Lords about the Succession. The death of His Royal Highness the Duke of Gloucester is worrying. Some argue that a new Succession Act must be passed, clearly stating that Sophia of the Palatinate is next in line after Her Royal Highness Princess Anne and any children she might have.



I would advise against this course of action. The Kingdom will not tolerate such a move when Her Royal Highness is still so young, and of course, when Your Majesties are young as you are.



Mary felt as though she had been kicked in the stomach.



She did not think she and William would be able to have children. Something had gone wrong when she had had her pregnancy fourteen years ago, and she had remained without a child ever since.



The thought that she might have a child or could have, always taunted her in her darkest moments. That Anne, her ungrateful sister had had a son, hurt more than anything.



It seemed that Carmarthen had thought of that as well, for his note finished with one final suggestion:



There is one alternative, if I might be so bold to suggest it, Your Majesty.



With the death of King James, the cause of the Jacobites is laying low and buried. There arises an opportunity to perhaps bring about a reconciliation which will only be good for the future of the Kingdoms.



There exists in Saint Germain, a child called the Prince of Wales by your late father’s supporters. He is young and can be moulded to suit the needs of the Kingdom. Should Princess Anne, God forbid pass on before continuing the succession, it would not be wrong to consider bringing him across the water.



It is a suggestion.



Mary closed her eyes and exhaled.



She had harboured doubts from the very beginning regarding the claims about the child her father and step-mother had had. Anne claimed the child was some changeling, smuggled in to replace the child who had died. But the witnesses she had spoken to, including Godolphin and her own uncles, had said the child was most definitely legitimate. Which had provoked a crisis in her.



She had displaced her father and brother from the throne, under what cause? William would tell her it was to protect the Church and the freedoms of her subjects. But deep down, she knew why it had been done. Because William wanted England’s army for his war against Louis of France.



So, whilst she should be outraged by what Carmarthen had suggested, she found herself not truly angered by it, but rather riddled with uncertainty and guilt.



There was so much she wanted to say, to ask, to do. But she could not. Largely because her father was now dead, and her step-mother would never want to speak to her. Not now, not after everything.



She exhaled. With God’s grace, they would never need to consider this. Anne would have children, lots of children and things would be fine. Surely they would be?



There was a knock on the door, she looked up and nodded at the Countess of Nottingham, who rose and opened the door.



One of the Grooms of the Chamber, Christopher Jeffreys, appeared. He looked grim.



Mary immediately rose. Christopher had been sent to Syon House, to witness Anne’s delivery, if he was here, she must have given birth.



“Well?” Mary demanded, her heart hammering.



Jeffreys bowed and said. “I…I… Her Royal Highness was delivered of a son, who was born dead, Your Majesty.”



Mary wanted to sink into her chair, Oh God!



“And our sister?” Mary asked.



Jeffrey’s voice softened. “She suffered major blood loss, Your Majesty. The Doctors were doing everything they could to aid her when I departed.”



Mary felt as though she’d been struck. “I will go to her.” It did not matter that she and Anne had not spoken for some time. Anne was her sister, and she would not let her be alone in this time.



Just as Jeffreys was about to say something, one of the guards outside announced. “His Royal Highness Prince George of Denmark.”



Mary blinked. George? Why was George here, he should be with Anne!



George entered the room, his face was white as a sheet. He bowed once.



“How is she?” Mary demanded, not wanting to wait for formalities.


George took a shuddering breath, then said. “They could not save her, Your Majesty. Anne is dead.”



Mary did sink back into her chair then. Tears formed in her eyes. Her sister was dead. Her sister….

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 3: The Sun​

May, 1692

​

His teeth ached, painfully so. The doctors were not sure what it was that was the cause of the incessant tooth ache that he’d recently started experiencing, and they wanted to have a look at his mouth. Louis knew that he should let them look. After all there was a large possibility that the problem could fester, and with the war raging, he did not want that. But at the same time, the war was raging and he did not want to have to spend weeks or however long it took them to figure out the problem, doing nothing. He hated doing nothing.

Grimacing, he pushed that thought to one side, and looked at Edouard Colbert de Villacerf, the Minister for the Maison du Roi. “You have important information for us.” It was meant as a question, but because of the pain in his mouth, it came out as a command.

Villacerf was a man who had been long in the Royal service though and understood what was being said. His tone was suitably compliant. “I do, Your Most Christian Majesty.”

“Speak it.” Louis commanded, the pain in his mouth was getting worse.

“Since His Majesty King James’ death a few weeks ago, matters in Saint Germain have grown heated.” Villacerf said. Louis gestured for the man to continue, he had feared that this might happen. The people around the court of his departed cousin were far too prone to infighting to be useful.

“Two factions have formed, Sire.” Villacerf said. “One around the Earl of Melfort which wishes to push ahead with plans for an invasion regardless of His Majesty’s death, and wishes to send an emissary to Your Most Christian Majesty to request immediate recognition of His Majesty’s son to the thrones of England, Scotland and Ireland.”

Louis nodded, he had considered issuing a statement declaring that his cousin’s son was the recognised King of England, Scotland and Ireland, as under God’s will, the child was. However, matters of politics had prevented him from issuing an immediate declaration. After all, he was very aware that the Kingdom’s finances were not as they should be, the harvest had not been as it should have been last year, and trade was slowing down.

“And the other faction?” Louis asked.

“The other faction has formed around the former Lord Chamberlain to the late King James, and is arguing that they should first get recognition of the late King’s son from you, Sire, before anything else is done.” Villacerf said. “Admittedly, this faction is being led rather reluctantly by the Lord Chamberlain.”

Louis nodded, he knew his cousin’s former Lord Chamberlain reasonably well, the man was honourable, principled and intelligent. Something that could not be said for the Earl of Melfort, who was a bull-headed fool.

“Has Her Majesty Queen Mary attached herself to any faction?” Louis asked, though he suspected not, his cousin’s wife was smarter by half than her husband and was far too cautious to do such a thing.

“Her Majesty has not, Sire.” Villacerf said. “Her confinement has kept her occupied, and I believe the Countess of Perth has done all she can to spare Her Majesty from such schemes as they exist.”

Louis nodded, just as he had expected. “We shall make no move for the foreseeable future as concerns England. With our cousin dead and his son barely a child, there will not be much we can gain.” He certainly did not want to install a child monarch on the thrones of England, Scotland and Ireland. Such a child would be seen as nothing more than a puppet, which was not his desire. He wanted a monarch with at least a veneer of independence, such as his cousin Charles had had.

“Sire.” Villacerf replied, bowing his head.

“Write to the Lord Chamberlain and tell him that we wish to meet with him before we depart for the front.” Louis commanded, he wanted to get a measure of the man, or rather, he wanted to know that if he moved forward by backing the man, that he was backing the right horse.

“Yes, Sire.” Villacerf said.

That had turned his attention to the war as it stood, and so he turned to his Secretary of War and asked the man. “You have had word from the front?”

There were three fronts being fought simultaneously, one consisted of an army under his son, the Dauphin. That was the front that was doing reasonably well, but, it was the front being fought in the Spanish Netherlands that most concerned him.

“I do, Sire.” The Secretary replied. “The Irish contingent have successfully joined His Royal Highness’ army on the Rhine.”

Lord Mountcashel was not wrong when he said he could get the Irish army to the Rhine before anyone even knew. Louis had thought Mountcashel had been jesting, but he had clearly been serious.

“Good.” Louis said. “We will hopefully receive more positive news within a few weeks.” With luck they could strike a decisive blow on the Rhine.

“In regards to the Spanish Netherlands, I have received a report from Marshal Luxembourg. The attempt by the Dutch and their allies to retake Mons failed quite concisely, even if the force was a small one. Secondly, he has received word that the Dutch and English are going to attempt to reinforce Namur.” The Secretary said.

Louis nodded, Namur, that was the key. It was a strategically important fortress and taking it could prove useful. “How many men does he have ready to march on Namur?” Louis had already intended to take the fortress, Boufflers and Vauban had their men prepared to march on his command, but Luxembourg being there beforehand could prove useful.

“Thirty thousand men, Sire.” The Secretary replied. “Marshal Vauban and Boufflers both have thirty thousand men with them.”

“Send word to Luxembourg, he is to march for Namur at once. If he draws the English and Dutch, so much the better.” Louis was sure that Luxembourg could defeat the English and Dutch if need be.

“Yes, Sire.” The Secretary replied.

Satisfied, Louis added. “We shall be riding out with Vauban and Boufflers, we shall see Namur fall ourselves.” And then he could bait William of Orange with that.

He was unsure of whether William of Orange would seek to negotiate should Namur fall, but he was confident that the man would know there was no escaping defeat, if Namur fell. That was reassurance enough.

“Your Most Christian Majesty?” A voice asked, breaking into Louis’ thoughts.

Louis looked around and saw the marquis de Pomponne, the Foreign Secretary looking at him, or rather near him. He also saw a servant stepping back into the shadows.

“Yes?”

“My apologies, Sire, but I have received word from Denmark.” Pomponne said.

Denmark? What interest is that little isle to me?

Louis gestured for the man to continue.

“It seems that Crown Prince Frederik has married the daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburg-Gustrow.”

Louis frowned, the Crown Prince of a state such as Denmark marrying a woman from a minor state was surprising, but then the Danes did do things rather differently from everyone else. “Send our heartiest congratulations and good wishes.” Louis commanded. Denmark was staying out of the war for now, and Louis would like that to continue, thus keeping the Danish King happy was not a bad thing. Even if it was a simple message. Pomponne nodded and made a note.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 4: The Other Queen​

May, 1692

​

Mary huffed. Pregnancy was a strain on one’s system, and one’s mind. It was a strain that had to be born to deliver something so beautiful and healthy. She hoped that the child she carried was a boy, a spare for her son, the new King of England, Scotland and Ireland. She wished that her husband, James, her kind-hearted and devoted, husband, was still alive. That he could be here to share with her the burdens and the fears. But he was not. God had seen fit to lead him to heaven and now she must bear the burden alone.

She took a deep breath and looked at her ladies.

Her Mistress of the Robes, Frances, Duchess of Tyrconnell was reading some book or the other, no doubt concealed within it was a letter from her sister. The Countess of Almond was sewing and chattering away with Lady Sophia Bulkeley. The others were all doing something similar, the only woman who wasn’t, was the one woman who Mary actually quite liked.

“Isabella.” She said, speaking in the English that she had learned as a young woman. It was important that she continued to speak it, so that her son may know it as well.

Isabella, a sister to the late Lord Waldegrave, whose husband had died fighting for her husband in Ireland, turned and faced her. “Your Majesty?” The woman replied lowering her head in acknowledgement.

Mary hesitated, unsure of what it was exactly she wanted from the other woman. She knew that perhaps she should ask Frances for news outside of the rooms where she was confined, but, she also knew that Isabella, rather than Frances, got on well with the woman who was her son’s governess. And so, she asked. “What news have you of His Majesty the King?”

Isabella’s face lit up, as it always did when she spoke of the King. The King was only three, but he was a delightful child, a quiet child, but one who brought immense joy. Mary was proud of her son.

“He is getting on well, Your Majesty. He is taking to his lessons as studiously as can be, helped by the Countess of Erroll’s firm hand and guidance. He has now started learning some of his numbers.” Isabella said.

Mary nodded, she still thought it too early for her son to learn such things, but her husband had insisted on it, and so, she would stick with what he had wanted.

“He no longer seems quite so afraid of some of the other boys either, Your Majesty.” Isabella added, smiling encouragingly.

Mary smiled as well, she knew who her friend meant. The King, her son, had been scared of boys like James Waldegrave (his nephew), and Edward Drummond, who were taller and bigger than he, and older. He had hidden behind her skirts the first time they had been introduced, but if he was more confident with them, then that was all for the good.

“His Majesty will be a bold young man, Your Majesty.” Frances said then, Mary looked away from Isabella and shifted her focus to Frances. The woman looking at her intently. Frances was a woman who Mary had never felt truly comfortable around. There was something about her that just oozed contempt or was it slitheriness? She was not sure. And yet, Frances remained.

“I am happy to hear that.” Mary replied, keeping the smile on her face, though she would much rather her son be a happy young man, rather than a bold one. Bold men tended to meet death early, whereas happy young men tended to know when to stop.

At that, a reminder came to Mary and she asked Frances. “Did you give the Lord Chamberlain the letters I had given you?”

The Lord Chamberlain, William Herbert Earl of Powis, was a good man, honourable and steadfast. He always did whatever was asked uncomplainingly.

“I did, Your Majesty.” Frances replied. “He informed me that he is going to meet with King Louis as well, before King Louis departs for the Spanish Netherlands.”

“Will King Louis finally give recognition to His Majesty?” The Countess of Almond asked.

Mary frowned at the Countess, the woman was one of her oldest friends, but sometimes she asked questions that were very much out of turn, this was one such question. The Countess did at least have the grace to blush when she realised what she had asked.

“It is for King Louis to decide what he wishes to do in the interests of France.” Mary said simply. She had hoped that he might give formal recognition, but so far there had been nothing. Given the war, she could not blame him.

“If he has heard the news that has come from London, he may well do so.” Frances said.

Mary turned her frown on Frances. “What do you mean?”

Frances took a breath then answered. “I received a letter from my sister in London, Your Majesty.”

Mary leaned forward, she had known Frances’ sister-the woman had been a maid of honour for a time-she was never sure what to make of the woman. “And?” She asked.

“Princess Anne gave birth to a short-lived son.” Frances said.

Mary closed her eyes and said a prayer. Anne may have sided with William of Orange against her husband, but she had always been kind to Mary, and Mary had cared for her as if she was her own daughter. She could imagine the pain her daughter was going through, so soon after losing another child as well.

“She died herself a few hours later.” Frances continued.

Mary opened her eyes and stared at Frances, not quite sure she had heard correctly. “You mean to say that Anne died?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Frances said simply. “Sarah was there when the Princess passed.”

Mary closed her eyes and said a prayer for her daughter, for the girl Anne had been, and for the woman she was. She hoped that Anne found peace with the Lord.

She opened her eyes once more and said. “We must pray.” She would think of the wider consequences later, but for now she would mourn. That the baby within her kicked at that thought was neither here nor there.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 5: Orange​

May, 1692

​

William put the letter down. It was not the first time he had done that, nor, as he rubbed his eyes, was it the first time he had done that. Things seemed to be going from bad to worse back in London.

First there had been the death of his nephew, his beloved nephew, and the issues that brought with it. Now there was this. This piece of news that threatened to turn everything upside down and inside out.

His sister in law, Princess Anne was dead. The child she had given birth to was dead as well. The succession was in jeopardy. William was a pragmatic man. He knew and had known for some time that he and his wife, his beloved Mary, would never have any children. Something had gone terribly wrong during Mary’s first pregnancy and now she was unable to bear children. No matter how many times they slept together, nothing changed.

William wanted to scream. He looked at the letter in disgust. Everything, everything had been for naught with Anne dead, now the Protestant Succession established in 1689 was finished. Parliament would try and sort things out, as they were wont to do, but he and Mary would need to hold firm. They could not allow Parliament to dictate the succession from here. Not now.

He exhaled, there was nothing to it, he would need to get through this. He looked up at the men gathered in the room with him. The Earl of Portland, his ever faithful advisor, the Earl of Manchester who was entitled to be here as Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard, Henry Sydney, his main general and the Earl of Devonshire, another advisor.

“I will not flower my words, gentlemen, the news from England is not good. The death of Her Royal Highness Princess Anne has thrown many things into chaos and doubt.” He examined the reactions of the men before him.

Portland did not care a whit for England, William knew that, but he did care for William and therefore he exhaled. Manchester looked stunned. The man had thrown everything he had into 1688, and now for it to be finished like this, was not something he could stomach. Sydney looked shocked, as he should, given his key role in 1688. Devonshire’s expression was neutral.

“Parliament is already discussing a new Succession Act, one which would place the succession in the hands of Sophia of the Palatinate, the Duchess of Brunswick-Luneburg.” William said. He knew Sophia, he had liked her niece quite well, and he found Sophia an amenable woman, and a formidable one.

“We would however, seek your views on this matter, being as you are our regular companions on campaign.” William continued. That and he wanted to know whether anyone had the sense to see the chaos that would come from having Sophia chosen as heiress.

There was a brief pause as everyone digested what he had said, then, the Earl of Devonshire spoke.

“It is my view, Your Majesty that we cannot allow for the succession to move to someone so distant and removed from the throne.” William looked at Devonshire, surprised that the man had said what he had. If anyone would have been for Sophia, he would have thought that that man would be Devonshire. But evidently not.

“Whilst the Duchess is Protestant and has many great qualities, she is not an Englishwoman. She is tied to a land that many of Your Majesty’s subjects have never heard of. Her connection to England is from her late Mother, a woman who many do not remember.” Devonshire finished.

William took in what Devonshire had said, the man spoke truly. Sophia was a foreigner, but so too was he, and his subjects had welcomed him. Though he had the benefit of being a liberator. What would Sophia liberate England from?

“She is a Protestant though.” Henry Sydney said. His voice firm. “And that is what matters.”

“Legitimacy also matters.” Devonshire replied.

Sydney scoffed. “Legitimacy? Legitimacy comes from Parliament, the Revolution of 1688 confirmed that. The succession laid out in the Bill of Rights further confirmed it. If Parliament decides that the Duchess Sophia is the heiress, then she is the heiress.”

William frowned. Sydney was right in a very theoretical sense. Parliament had invited William and his wife to take the throne. And they could theoretically invite someone else to take the throne, once he and Mary were dead, now that Anne was dead. However, that did not sit right with him for two reasons. One of which he gave voice to.

“You are both right. But, as long as James Francis Edward is alive, there will be those who claim that he, not the Duchess is the rightful heir.” William said. Judging by the letter that Mary had sent him, using the coded script they had learnt together, she was one of those people.

“But Sire…. the boy is not legitimate!” Sydney spluttered.

William stared at the man. Did Sydney truly believe that? William had never claimed that the boy who had been born to his uncle and father in law was illegitimate or some sort of warming pan baby. He had carefully avoided any suggestion of that being included in any proclamation.

Sydney continued to sputter about the Revolution and various other things, but William had stopped paying attention to him. Clearly the man had no sense. Instead, he focused on Manchester. The man had remained silent, but as Captain of the Yeomen he had influence.

“Lord Captain Manchester.” William said.

Manchester blinked and exhaled before answering. “Your Majesty is right. The Duchess Sophia would never be recognised as long as James Francis is alive. A significant proportion of those who supported Your Majesty would think it nonsensical not to name him as Your Majesties heir, especially with his father dead.”

“You cannot think that the boy’s mother would be willing to let her son be named heir and allow him to travel to London?!” Sydney exclaimed.

William looked at Sydney then and the man seemed to pale under his gaze. “We will not know unless we make the offer. Furthermore, the woman will do what Louis of France asks of her. And it is within his interest to see the boy returned to England.”

“Majesty?” Sydney asked sounding shocked.

William bit back a sigh, there was too much of this feeling amongst his subjects that King Louis was a man who did things purely because of his religion. William did not think so, he knew Louis harboured territorial ambitions and that was why he was fighting this war, to stop Louis from getting those ambitions met. But if there was a chance to get Louis away from causing trouble using the boy, then he would seize it.

“We all know how fractured Saint Germain is. King Louis is paying for that, for all that drama that produces no result. He has moved the fleet he was gathering away from the Channel and has sent 12,000 Irishmen to the Rhine, because he knows that there will be no united Jacobite cause until the boy is an adult. That is far away. Right now, he has other concerns.” William said.

William saw the men take in what he had said and decided to drive the point home. “Why would he wait for that time, why pay all that money, when he can be rid of the problem there and then. He hands over the boy, the boy becomes our heir, he has achieved in a manner, what King James wanted, and he has also ridden himself of the courtiers of Saint Germain.” William did not know whether all those courtiers would return, some definitely would, but others he was not so sure.

There was a long silence as the others took in what he had said. He could tell that Devonshire-ever the pragmatist-was happy to go for what had been proposed. Manchester also seemed willing. Portland would go for whatever William wanted. Sydney however was still not convinced.

“He will demand something to go along with returning the boy. Something that will make everything we are doing here look foolish.” Sydney said.

William took a breath. “Perhaps, but we can always force him to change his mind on that matter. That is why we must negotiate. If we do not, we set the stage for future fights.” And those were fights he was sure he would be blamed for.

Sydney opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get a word out, the Earl of Manchester spoke. “You are right, Your Majesty. The safety of the Kingdom must come before all else, and if this is the best way to ensure that, then that is what must be done.”

“I agree with the Lord Captain, Your Majesty.” Devonshire said. “The Kingdom must be kept at peace.”

“Yes, peace above all else.” Portland said, speaking for the first time.

William nodded, then looked at Sydney. The man looked shocked, his mouth opened and closed several times before he finally spoke, and when he did so, it sounded as if he were speaking with great reluctance. “If that is Your Majesty’s wish, then it must be so.”

Satisfied, William smiled and said. “Good, then we shall plan for what happens when we meet the French at Namur.”

“Namur, Sire?” Sydney asked then.

“Oh yes.” William said. “The French are heading for Namur, and we are going to be there to meet them.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 6: Bolded​

May, 1692

​

“We cannot allow someone so far removed from the throne to become heir. It is simply inconceivable.” Thundered the Earl of Nottingham.

“The other claimants are all Catholic, and if my lord has forgotten, we removed the last King because he was a Catholic.” Richard Hampden, Chancellor of the Exchequer said, his voice grating.

“That was different, King James was threatening the liberties and the consciousness of England.” Nottingham thundered, his face turning red.

“And you think these other Catholics won’t?” Hampden asked, an eyebrow quirked. “If you think they won’t you are a fool.”

Before Nottingham could bellow out that he was not a fool-that seemed all the man was good for-Mary spoke. “Gentlemen, please, enough. We would hear other views.” Views that weren’t likely to give her a headache and make her think of the hypocrisy of these men.

She focused on the Lord President of the Council the Marquess of Carmarthen, and asked. “What do you believe, my Lord Carmarthen? Shall we allow the proposal to name Sophia of the Palatinate as heir to myself and my husband to stand, or shall we remove it completely?”

That was what this whole meeting was about after all. Since Anne had died, the succession had been thrown into chaos. Some member of the Commons had introduced a Bill that would place the succession clearly into the hands of Sophia of the Palatinate, Duchess of Brunswick Luneburg. Mary had never met the woman, nor had she met the woman’s son-who Anne had hated so passionately. She was not sure what to make of the Bill, other than it was a vast over-stepping of Parliament’s powers. Yes, they had outlined the succession in 1689, but that succession was dead and now things had to revert to some normalcy.

Mary was convinced that the tragedies that had befallen her and William, including their nephew’s death were because the true path had not been followed. Now they had to right it as quickly as possible. Especially now that her father was dead.

Carmarthen, one of the main instigators of the plot that had deposed her father, took a deep breath. The man looked visibly aged by his time in government.

“I believe, Your Majesty, that every effort must be made to frustrate this Bill. If it were allowed to pass both houses, then it would cause an uncertainty the like of which we have not seen.”

Hampden snorted. “The succession has been decided by Parliament before, it can be done so again. Indeed, I would argue that it must be!”

Mary stopped herself from snapping at Hampden-truly, she did not understand why he was a member of the ministry, when William returned, they would have words about this man-instead she waited for Carmarthen to respond, which he did.

“That was a special occasion, nothing was clear at the time. And nothing is clear now, but a clear solution is there if Your Majesties are willing to grasp it.”

“Saint Germain.” Mary said. She had prayed on the matter and even spoken about her worries with her former governor and the Dean of the Chapel Royal, Henry Compton Bishop of London. The Bishop had told her that her doubts were perfectly normal, and that she must pray and reflect and discuss with her husband.

She had written a letter, in the code that she and William had created a long time ago, expressing her thoughts. She just hoped he shared her view, otherwise things would be very awkward.

Carmarthen spoke and broke into her thoughts. “Yes, Your Majesty. I believe Saint Germain provides a realistic solution to the issue of succession. The boy who resides there is considered by many to be the true heir to Your Majesty’s father, his supporters are numerous in the church and across the three Kingdoms. Naming him heir would reconcile these supporters to Your Majesties and prevent a future threat. Especially if he is raised here in London.”

Mary nodded, she agreed with that assessment. She thought that if only she could write to Saint Germain and to her step-mother she could get things to be as they should be.

“That would be the most foolish course to pursue, Your Majesty.” Hampden said, his voice full of contempt. “King Louis will never agree to that, let alone the former Queen.”

Mary was starting to get very annoyed with Hampden, he seemed deliberately to be frustrating every effort. “So, what would you propose?” She asked, fixing him with a firm gaze.

Hampden took a breath before answering. “I would allow things to play their natural course. Should the bill pass, then it will be up to Your Majesties to decide whether to veto it or not. Any action taken before then would be premature.”

Mary could see the sense in what Hampden was saying, at the same time, she also knew that vetoing anything it had passed both houses would cause concern. Especially given how the veto had been used in the past. Still, perhaps it was not all bad.

She would write another letter to William and get his view on the matter before taking any decisive action. They worked best as a team after all.

“Very well, let us leave that for the moment.” She said. “What of this Place Bill?” The Place Bill that sought to ensure no member of the government could sit in the Commons, and thus prevent the Crown from manipulating the Commons. A bill that had been floated during her uncle’s time before being removed. She wanted this bill removed as well.

Here, it seemed that there was good news and surprisingly it was delivered by Richard Hampden.

“I have the pleasure of informing Your Majesty that the Place Bill will be defeated in the next reading in the Commons. I have shown my colleagues in the Commons the error of their ways.” Hampden said.

Mary was under no illusion as to how Hampden as Chancellor of the Exchequer had done that, but if it meant such a foolish Bill was removed, then so be it. “Good, and the member who introduced the bill?”

“He has agreed to recant in a speech before the House tomorrow, Your Majesty.” Hampden said. “He admits that he was far too enthusiastic.”

Mary smiled at Hampden, perhaps he was good for something after all. “Very good, thank you, Richard.”

Hampden smiled a wide smile at her, as if he was some sort of child who had been praised. It was endearing in its own way.

“Now, is there aught else?” She asked. Military matters would be sent onto William she knew, but if there was anything to do with home, she wanted to know now.

Carmarthen looked around the room as did she, and when nobody spoke, he said. “Nothing more, Your Majesty.”

Mary rose then, prompting the others to do so also. “Very well, thank you all, gentlemen. We shall reconvene next week.” With that she turned and walked out of the room. She would need to write that letter to William and perhaps also meet with Sarah Churchill. Maybe the time for reconciliation was approaching.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 7: Sarah​

June, 1692
​

Sarah Churchill, Countess of Marlborough, resisted the urge to tug at her dress as she stood outside waiting. The Queen had summoned her to Whitehall for unknown reasons, and she was nervous. Very, very nervous.

Given that the Queen had never liked her, she felt she had every reason to be nervous. The last time she had spoken to the Queen, she had said things that no decent person should say. Sarah didn’t think the Queen would have forgotten that.

The guard knocked on the door, and opened it. “The Countess of Marlborough, Your Majesty.” A moment passed, then the guard stepped to one side, allowing Sarah to enter.

Trying not to shake, she entered the room, the Queen’s study, there was a painting of the King and Queen, done at their coronation, hanging on the wall behind her. Sarah sunk low into a curtsey.

“Your Majesty.”

She was relieved that her voice didn’t quiver.

“Lady Marlborough.” The Queen said. “Rise.”

Sarah rose.

“Be seated.” The Queen commanded.

A servant appeared with a chair which he placed just behind her, Sarah sat down, and shifted slightly to get more comfortable.

The Queen did not offer her tea or any other drink, and Sarah noted that she had no such drink herself. That was odd, but she did not comment on it. Indeed, she tried to make herself the picture of deference.

“You are well?” The Queen asked, breaking the silence.

“As well as can be, Your Majesty.” Sarah replied. As well as one could be having lost a child. Charles, her youngest son, had fallen ill with a fever, and had been buried in the old family vault in Devon three days’ ago.

“My sincere condolences for the loss of your son.” The Queen said. “I cannot imagine the pain you are going through.”

The Queen had never had a child, Sarah knew this, it was one of the few things that her old friend, Princess Anne, had ever felt sorry for her sister about.

“I…thank you, Your Majesty.” Sarah said.

The Queen took a breath as if preparing herself for something difficult. Sarah wondered what it could be.

“We wished to speak to you today because of what happened with our sister, Princess Anne.” The Queen said.

Sarah swallowed. This would be…she was not sure. Things had not ended well between the Queen and the Princess, and the Princess was dead now.

The Princess’ funeral had been two weeks ago, in a solemn ceremony held in Windsor Castle. Sarah had not been allowed to attend, well she couldn’t attend either, Charles had needed her support. But now, well here they were.

“We wished to thank you for being a comfort and support for our sister when she needed you the most.” The Queen said.

Sarah was surprised by that, she had expected something, but not this. “I…” She trailed off as the Queen continued.

“We appreciate that things were not always easy between us, but that you remained a constant and firm friend to the Princess, our sister, means something to us. We appreciate that even when times were hard, she had you to rely on.” The Queen said.

There was something like a wistfulness about the Queen as she said that, and Sarah was reminded of something Anne had told her once. The Queen had had quite the correspondence with a Frances Apsley many years ago, that had stopped when the Queen had gotten married. Anne had never said what the correspondence had included, only that the tears her sister had shed when she had married the King, had not been because of the marriage.

She pushed that thought to one side as the Queen continued.

“We wished to ask you a few questions about our sister’s final days.”

Sarah suppressed a frown. Why did the Queen want to know about that? What good would that do? Anne was dead.

“Of course, Your Majesty, how might I be able to help?” Sarah replied, knowing the words she had to say.

The Queen blinked, something passed over her face, what it was, Sarah did not know, but it had been there. The Queen’s expression was neutral when she answered. “Did she experience much discomfort?”

Sarah had to think, her mind had been preoccupied with her son and the family, trying to keep it all together with John confined in the Tower. She hadn’t really been focused on Anne, at least not once the woman had died. But, she remembered one thing.

“She had found a sense of peace, Your Majesty. She put her trust in God.” Sarah said. Those were the exact words that Anne had used when she’d gone into labour.

“And she did not feel fear?” The Queen asked.

“No, Your Majesty. No fear, only a sense that she wanted things to go as smoothly as possible.” Sarah replied, then for a reason she could not quite understand, she added. “She also wished that she had not left things as they had been with Your Majesty.”

The Queen nodded, no emotion showed on her face, though Sarah wondered if there was a sense of relief there.

“And how did she feel about her son’s passing?” The Queen asked.

Sarah wanted to repeat the question to the Queen and ask her how she could ask such a foolish question. How did she think Anne would have felt? For all her faults, Anne had loved that boy.

Still, she was well aware of who it was she was speaking to. The Queen was not Anne and she would not tolerate such a comment. Instead, Sarah took a breath and replied. “She was saddened and grieved by his passing, Your Majesty, but she accepted that it was part of God’s plan.”

That was a lie, when Anne had been told of her son’s passing, she had howled and howled. And she had called the Queen all sorts of names, terrible names. But the Queen did not need to know that. Sarah sensed an opportunity here.

The Queen nodded, then the conversation took a turn that Sarah had started hoping it would take.

“We wish to make a fresh start with you, Lady Marlborough.”

“Your Majesty?” Sarah asked, keeping her tone deferential, whilst hope began to bloom in her heart.

“You have been a loyal and devoted servant to our sister. Our sister respected and admired you, and given the troubled times we find ourselves in, we believe that those are qualities that are to be valued.” The Queen said.

Go on, Your Majesty, say it, say the words. Sarah thought to herself.

“Therefore, we wish to extend a branch for a fresh start.” The Queen said. “We will put aside our differences from the past, and make you a lady in waiting.”

Sarah wanted to jump for joy, this was perfect. At the back of her mind, she did wonder what this meant for John, but she didn’t ask. Instead, she simply said. “I am humbled by the offer and by the trust Your Majesty is showing. I promise to be the best lady in waiting I can be.”

The Queen nodded. “Good, you may go, when you leave, tell the Lord Chamberlain that your things are to be moved to rooms here. He will know what to do.”

Sarah recognised the dismissal and rose, she curtseyed again before turning and leaving the room. The moment the doors shut behind her, she exhaled. Perhaps all was not lost yet. Maybe she could get John out of the tower and back into the field of command?
The opportunities were more numerous now.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 8: Delivery​

June, 1692
​

Mary huffed and puffed, but the strain was still there. Delivery day was upon her and she was terrified. Something within her was telling her that this might not be the easy delivery that James’ had been. Something within her was telling her that she should be worried or concerned about what was to come.

Mary tried to push that thought away. She tried to focus on the things she knew were happening. The Earl of Powis had returned from Versailles and his meeting with King Louis with an offer. Or rather a demand.

With the death of Anne and her children, and with the English succession open to be played, Louis wanted her agreement to an offer he was going to make to William of Orange.

In return for a temporary ceasefire between their two Kingdoms, William would recognise James as his heir. Mary had considered the offer. It was too good an opportunity to give up but she had wanted some terms of her own met, and she had told them to Powis.

William was to recognise James as his heir, he was to be raised in London and he was to have his household from Saint Germain travel with him to London. She had deliberately left the issue of religion out of the terms. She was devout, but unlike her husband she knew that England would never accept a Catholic King.

Powis had taken her terms to Louis before he had departed and she believed the man had accepted them. She had not had any word about that, only that Powis had been asked to accompany the King of France to Namur. That had been weeks ago now and still there had been no news.

“Push a little harder, Your Majesty.” The midwife said in French.

Mary pushed and she felt like she wanted to scream. By God this was painful. This was more painful than the other deliveries she had had. Why she did not know.
“Frances!” She grunted through the pain.

Frances Talbot, Duchess of Tyrconnell, and her Mistress of the Robes, appeared at her side then. Mary pointedly ignored the gaze of the men that were there, courtiers such as Melfort and Perth, and members from the French court.

“I am here, Your Majesty.” Frances said.

Mary groaned as another wave of pain hit her. “When…child…born…name Louis….or….Louisa.” She screamed then as the wave of pain hit her. The words came out in a garble of French and English.

“Just a little more, Your Majesty, you’re nearly there.” The midwife said.

Mary wanted to yell at the woman, but then the Doctor appeared and she wanted to yell at him. He was the one who had her in this ridiculous position with her legs spread wider than was normal.

Instead she looked at Frances and said. “Promise me.” She needed the woman to confirm that if she should die before she got to hold her child, the child would be named to honour King Louis.

“I promise, Your Majesty.” Frances said, the woman looked pale.

Mary screamed and then there was a yell, then silence. She slumped against the pillows, before she heard a baby crying.

“A healthy baby girl, Your Majesty.” The Doctor said.

“Louisa.” Mary said. “She will be named Louisa.” She watched as the doctor gave the baby to one of the other women so that the baby could suckle and she felt her eyes start to close.

She felt a pain in her middle then and blinked, that was not normal. The pain got worse and something forced itself out and her legs started to feel wet.

“What is happening?” She asked, the words came out softer than she would have liked.

There was a great deal of movement, and the doctor was barking out orders.

“What….what is happening?” She asked, but nobody seemed to hear her. Something sharp was pressed against her and it made her gasp in shock. She wanted to bark out an order, but her mouth wouldn’t open.

Something was going wrong. Her vision was becoming blurry. Was she seeing things or was her husband standing before her with his hand reaching out toward her.

She lifted her hand and felt as if there was some heavy weight bearing down on her, stopping her from getting what she wanted and what she needed.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would emerge from her mouth.

Terrified she blinked and her husband remained where he was, standing before her, his hand outstretched, a smile on his face.

“It is time to go, my love.” Her husband said, his voice deeper than she remembered.

“But what about our children?” Mary asked, her voice stronger than it had been.

“They will be safe. Louis will make sure they are safe.” Her husband said confidently.

“Are you sure?” She asked. She did not want to leave their children behind.

Her husband smiled and her heart started to quicken. “I am, my love. Come, take my hand.”

Mary did just that, she lifted her hand and leaned forward, wincing in pain, she felt her hand touch her husband’s and the pain disappeared.

“Where are we going?” She asked, finding herself standing at her husband’s side.

Her husband’s smile widened. “To a world without pain.”

Mary smiled back, she would like that very much. She allowed her husband to lead her away from the pain and toward the light. Free in the knowledge that her children would be safe.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 9: Melfort​

June, 1692
​

“I do not understand why King Louis had to take that damned fool Powis with him.” John Drummond, Duke of Melfort and the Secretary of State for the rightful King of England, Scotland and Ireland, King James III, said. “Powis is nothing but an old man who will want nothing more than to retire to his estates. He is not committed.”

John had been aggrieved to learn that Powis had been invited to Versailles shortly after the King’s father’s death, anyway. The man was old and fragile and barely did anything of note. John was younger, and the Secretary of State. A position the former Queen had confirmed him in shortly after her husband’s death.

And yet King Louis had ignored him and invited Powis it made no sense.

“Perhaps it is because he is what you say he is, that is why he has been chosen, Your Grace.” Francis Stafford, a former Groom of the Bedchamber, to the former King, said.

“What do you mean?” John demanded of the man. Stafford was meant to be on his side, not with Powis and his faction.

“What I mean is that King Louis is a cautious man now, and a smart one. No doubt he knows that Powis is inoffensive, and thus less likely to draw the ire of William of Orange.” Stafford answered.

“He should want to draw William of Orange’s ire. The man has disturbed the natural order!” John exclaimed, and King Louis always insisted that he was for the natural order.
Yet despite his claims, the man had not recognised the King yet.

“Indeed, Your Grace, but King Louis no doubt has his reasons for doing as he is.” Stafford said.

“I think he has chosen Powis because he was the last man from the King’s household the Queen spoke to before she died.” John’s brother, James, Earl of Perth said.

John exhaled. The Queen. The Queen, the last chance they had of getting something done before the long years of regency truly started. She had died giving birth to a girl, a girl who had been named Louisa in honour of King Louis.

She seemed to have spent a lot of time talking with the Earl of Powis, or whoever his contact was within her household after her husband’s death. She had barely said two words to John’s own wife.

“What did they discuss?” John asked.

Somehow, James’ wife had become good friends with the Queen, and had been able to get information out of the Queen that nobody else was able to. Well, apart from the Duchess of Tyrconnell.

His brother shifted, for some reason, his brother always seemed uncomfortable when it came to passing information on. He really shouldn’t considering he was the one who had offered this service to begin with. But then when were men ever rational when it came to their women.

John knew he certainly wasn’t.

His brother took a breath before answering.

“In light of the death of Princess Anne and her children, the succession is open to manipulation. Queen Mary proposed that in exchange for recognising William of Orange and his wife, Mary, the late King’s daughter, as the monarchs for now, they recognise our King as their heir. Our King would be raised in London, and his household would venture back to London with him.”

John felt his mouth drop open. That was…that was preposterous.

“A sensible plan.” Francis Stafford said.

John glared at the man, but he did not balk. “Sensible?!” John exclaimed. “What exactly is it about that plan that is sensible?”

Before either his brother or Stafford could reply, he continued. “This would be making everything that His Majesty stood for, everything he and countless others fought for in Ireland, worthless. It would be legitimising the efforts of the usurpers and their followers. It cannot be allowed!”

Anyone who suggested otherwise was a fool and needed to be dealt with.

“It is the logical decision.” His brother said.

John whirled to face him and stared at the man. “You cannot be serious!” He exclaimed.

“I am.” His brother replied.

“Why?!” John demanded. He remembered the sacrifices that his brother had made when 1688 had happened, the same sacrifices that countless others had made. He could not believe that his brother would make that all worthless now.

“The King is an infant, John. An infant. We would need another fifteen years before he could effectively lead us into a Restoration War. Nobody will rise without him at the head of the uprising. In that time William of Orange and his wife will have time to codify their regime, and name whoever they want to succeed them. We cannot allow that.” James said.

“So, you would give up everything that we fought for, everything that we sacrificed, for this?” John demanded.

“Yes.” His brother replied. “I would do what is necessary to ensure that the King succeeds to the throne. With England, open as it is, now is the right chance to do what needs to be done. Not through war, but through diplomacy.”

“And do you think William of Orange will agree to have the son of the man he deposed succeed him?” John demanded.

“Yes. Or at least he will or is considering it. Otherwise I do not think Her Majesty would have sent her points alongside Powis.” His brother said.

John opened his mouth to protest or to counter, but then shut it, when he thought it through. His brother was right in a way. William of Orange was far too cautious a man to do anything that might imperil his position, but he was also far too cunning a man to let an opportunity like this go through.

“And will he really welcome all of us?” John asked. All the factional infighting that was there. All the rage, everything that plagued Saint Germain, would a man like William of Orange really want that?

“If that is what it takes to stop a future threat, perhaps he will.” James said.

John snorted, he wasn’t sure he agreed, but, perhaps they would have to wait and see. After all, it wasn’t as if he could leave Saint Germain now. Not with the Queen’s funeral still to occur. He sighed. So much had to be done, and that was not the half of it.

If he could find a way to get someone into King Louis’ camp to overhear the discussions, perhaps that would make things easier. Perhaps. He would need to think on it, of course.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 10: A Meeting of Kings​

June, 1692
​

It was raining. Louis felt that that was fitting. There wasn’t to be any action today, instead, there would be diplomatic manoeuvrings and all sorts of other dealings going on.
They had arrived at Namur last month, to begin a siege that Louis had hoped would present him with an opportunity and force William of Orange to the negotiating table.

Of course, as tended to happen, events hadn’t quite unfolded that way. He had arrived at Namur to find that the enemy had sent an army ahead of time. It was a small army, commanded by some no-name Englishman, and it had been defeated easily enough. But then the actual army had arrived a few days’ ago.

And with their arrival had come a message. William of Orange wanted to meet to discuss something important. Louis was not a fool; he knew exactly what it was that the man wanted to discuss. He was willing to discuss it, but he had terms. Terms he had sworn to present and he would present them.

He looked at the man then. William of Orange was the same height as him, or perhaps slightly shorter. He had an incredibly pale face, and his skin looked as though it might fall.

He was not a terrifying opponent, and Louis felt that he could get the man to agree to what he wanted. If he played his cards right.

The men he was more concerned about were the men who were sat to William’s left and right. They were the Earl of Portland, who was William’s right hand man, and then there was the Earl of Devonshire. An Englishman who led an influential party in England.

Louis had Pomponne and Powis with him.

As William had asked for the meeting, Louis let him speak first. The man spoke in flawless French.

“Your Most Christian Majesty, we welcome you and thank you for agreeing to this meeting. There is much that could be discussed, but for now there is one crucial issue that we wish to discuss.” The man stopped for breath, was he wheezing?

The man then continued. “At present you harbour a great many exiles from our Kingdoms. Exiles who have plotted against us and have thought to disturb the peace within our home. They do this in the name of the one they claimed was the King. He who abdicated the throne and his family. We wish to resolve that issue once and for all.”

The man stopped speaking and Louis waited to see if he would continue, when he did not, Louis decided to speak. “And how do you propose we do that?”

“By negotiating an agreement.” William of Orange answered.

“An agreement.” Louis said, keeping his tone neutral. He knew what agreement the man wanted, and the man knew he knew. This was the game they played.

William of Orange took a breath. “We would offer to recognise James Francis Edward Stuart, the so-called Prince of Wales of the Jacobites, as our heir. In return, we wish that you stop plotting any invasion of our Kingdoms and recognise our right to the thrones of England, Scotland and Ireland.”

And there it was, out in the open. Louis had been expecting this, but still, it was somewhat surprising that the man had gotten right to it. Still, he would give his response.

“We recognise what you are saying and yet we would ask, why should we agree to this? James Francis is the son of our beloved cousin, King James, your late father in law. He is the rightful King of England, Scotland and Ireland. You are an usurper, a man who stole what was not his to take. We should have you arrested and dealt with here and now.” Louis said.

He saw Portland and Devonshire tense, but William of Orange’s face remained expressionless.

“Why should we agree to this? It would be a denial of reality.” Louis finished.

“Because reality shows that a war for this boy is not in your interests.” William of Orange answered bluntly. “The boy is just that a boy. He has only recently turned four. No Englishman, Scotsman or Irishman is going to turn out to fight for a boy. Let alone one who would need a long and costly regency. No, they will stay at home and any expeditionary force you send will be ruined by the lack of help from the inside.”

The man was right, much as Louis was loath to admit it. He listened.

“Furthermore, the courtiers of Saint Germain are nothing more than a leech on you and your finances. They squabble and they bicker. All the while you pay for the experience of watching them tear at one another.” The man nodded at Powis. “I am sure Lord Powis has told you all of this.”

“And you wish to do me the service of removing all of that from Saint Germain?” Louis asked barely concealing his amusement.

“I believe that this is the opportunity for you to remove a headache for yourself.” William of Orange said.

“And what do you get out of this?” Louis asked. It was a simple question, the answer was obvious, but he still wanted to see what the man would say.

“A clear succession, and the removal of a potential threat in the long term.” William of Orange answered.

Louis bit back a smile. Of course, the man would say that.

“And your Parliament, they are happy with what you are doing here?”

Given the problems that Parliament had given his cousins, he doubted it. Indeed, the brief hesitation that Orange showed before answering suggested the same was happening here.

“They know that this is for the good.” Orange replied, though he sounded unconvinced.

Louis nodded then said. “Now, let us say I agree to your offer, there are some terms that I have.”

William did not seem surprised.

“Firstly, the boy will be recognised as your heir before Parliament and the Kingdoms. He will be created Prince of Wales and Duke of Cornwall.” Powis had explained how that could happen, whilst it made Louis feel somewhat uncomfortable, politics must.

“Secondly, Queen Mary shall be allowed to visit her son, whenever she chooses.”

“Thirdly the boy’s household from Saint Germain shall return with him and they will be restored in their estates and incomes.”

The boy’s mother, Queen Mary of Modena had been insistent about that.

“Fourthly and finally, any member from Saint Germain who wishes to return shall be allowed to do so and shall be restored in blood to their titles, incomes and estates.”
Louis did not think that meant that the Irish army would suddenly desert, given how things were in Ireland at least per his spies. But still, he needed to offer that.

There was a brief pause, as William of Orange conversed with Portland and Devonshire. He did not think there could be anything objectionable to what had been offered. It was the least Louis could do.

Eventually, their conversing stopped, and William of Orange turned to him and asked. “Is that your official offer?”

“Yes.” Louis said simply.

“I will need some time to think it through, but I believe for the time being these terms are acceptable.” The man said.

Louis nodded. “Very well, we shall maintain the truce for the time being.” With that he watched as William of Orange and his men got up and departed.

When they were gone, Marshal Luxembourg stepped into the tent and bowed then said. “Word from Saint Germain, Your Most Christian Majesty.”

“What is it?” Louis demanded.

“Her Majesty Queen Mary was delivered of a girl, but unfortunately died shortly after the birth.”

Louis exhaled, so, that was one clause removed from the offer.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 11: Suspicion​

July, 1692
​

William kept his expression carefully neutral, something he had perfected over the course of his life, as he examined the man before him.

William Herbert, Earl of Powis and the representative from the Court of Saint Germain, had been sent to William’s camp to inform him of a change in circumstance at Saint Germain. A change that William had learned about mere moments before Powis had arrived.

“You are certain that this news is true?” He asked. Powis seemed trustworthy, but the man that he was with, King Louis, was not.

“Yes, Sir, I received the letter myself.” Powis replied.

“Do you have the letter with you?” William asked, fully expecting Powis to reply that he did not, and being pleasantly surprised when he replied.

“I do, Sir.” The man then reached down into a bag and pulled out a neatly folded letter. Powis handed the letter over to Portland who then handed it to William.

William opened it and read through it.

Sir,

It is as we feared.

Her Majesty the Queen has died in childbirth.

Please be advised that the situation is moving.

Yours

“I believe you will recognise the handwriting, Sir.” Powis said.

William did not look up from the letter, he would not reward Powis with a look. He did recognise the handwriting; the letter had come from the spy he had placed in Saint Germain three years ago.

So, it seemed the man was double-dealing, as was the course for many.

He handed the letter to Portland and then looked up at Powis.

“What does this change?”

He did not think it would or could significantly change much, but knowing Louis of France, it was possible.

“Only the clause regarding the Queen coming to visit her son has been removed.” Powis said.

“And this child that my mother in law bore, what happened to it?” William asked. The letter had made no mention of the child, nor had the correspondence that he had received. He found himself hoping that the child was not a boy.

“A healthy girl, Sir. Named Louisa.” Powis said.

William nodded, though internally he breathed a sigh of relief. A girl would not complicate things.

“And what will become of this girl?” William asked. He did not want to leave the child in the hands of Louis. Knowing the man as he did, should something happen to the boy, the girl would be used to cause all kinds of chaos. Although the girl came behind William’s own wife in the succession, their own ascension to the throne had thrown that whole thing into chaos.

“His Most Christian Majesty King Louis wishes for the Princess to travel with her brother to England.” Powis said.

William said nothing to that, but the mention of what King Louis wanted did prompt William to bring up something else that William had heard after receiving the news of his mother in law’s death.

“Does King Louis have the authority to negotiate that?” When his mother in law had been alive, William had been content to allow Louis the mirage of authority over two members of the Royal House of England. But now that she was dead, he was not sure how comfortable he was with that.

“He does, Sir.” Powis said. The man extended a hand and one of the servants that had accompanied him put another piece of paper into it.

Powis then handed the letter over to Portland who gave it to William. William opened it and read through it.

“As you will see, Sir, the signatures and seals are those of King James and King Louis, confirming that should something happen to Their Majesties, King Louis was to assume guardianship of their children.” Powis said.

A part of William wanted to say that this was a forgery, that Louis was trying to force his hand on something. The question was what would the man try and force his hand on. He had all but admitted during their talks that William was doing him a favour.

“I see.” William replied. “And nothing else has changed in the offer?”

If Powis was exasperated by the question, he did not show it. Instead he simply said. “That is right, Sir. King Louis sees no need to change anything in regards to what was offered.”

William considered this, it was not in his nature to rush into things. Especially when they concerned something as important as the succession to the throne, or indeed, anything that meant dealing with Louis of France. The man was like a viper, always waiting to strike.

“We shall need some time to discuss this with our advisors.” William said. “You are free to stay within the confines of the camp if you wish.” He had had a tent allocated for Powis, one that would not allow him to spy.

“Thank you, that would be much appreciated, Sir.” Powis said.

William nodded. “Lord Manchester will show you to the tent.” Powis nodded, he rose, then surprisingly bowed once before following Manchester out of the tent.

When William was sure that the man was gone, he rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat. The weather truly was doing something to him here.

“Well?” He asked, sounding more irritated than he actually was.

The first person to speak was Portland. “I think that this offer is the only sensible thing that King Louis has ever done, Sire. It will resolve an issue that has been plaguing the Kingdom since the death of Princess Anne, and it gives you two people to use for diplomacy in the future.”

“Portland is right, Sire.” Devonshire said. “This is the most sensible way to resolve any lingering tension and it will ensure the Kingdom can finally come together. Furthermore, the children are exactly that. They won’t remember their own parents in time, which is exactly what is needed.”

William thought what Devonshire had said was cold, but there was a logic to it. Especially as the boy was only four, and his mind was malleable.

“What of you Sydney?” William asked.

Henry Sydney, one of William’s main advisors had been against the plan of adoption from the beginning and his silence now suggested that perhaps his mind had not changed.

“I… I believe that if this is the course Your Majesty wishes to take, then Your Majesty must take it.” Sydney answered.

“But you harbour reservations?” William asked.

“I do, Sire. Not about the children, they are children. But the courtiers who may return with them. They are those who left for a deliberate reason and that reason may cause far more toxicity than if they stayed behind.” Sydney said. “Especially if the boy’s household includes men like the Earl of Melfort.”

William bit back a sigh. That was a valid point, Melfort was someone William had never trusted. And the declaration he had written for William’s father in law a few years ago had been filled with the sort of thing that would cause any sane man to worry.

“We can always make it so that Melfort never feels comfortable to return.” William said, how they could do that he did not know, but they could find something.

“And the others?” Sydney asked. “Powis may be amenable, but there are others who won’t be. Will we be forced to welcome them?”

“If they decide to return, then yes, and they will need to accept us.” William said firmly.

Sydney bowed his head in acceptance.

When nobody else said anything, William spoke. “Send for Powis. It is time we ended this.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 12: Erroll​

July, 1692

​

Life took some decidedly odd turns, Anne Hay, Countess of Errol thought to herself as she watched her charges running about the Great Room of Saint Germain. A few years ago, she and her husband had sat at the right hand of her brothers, the Earls of Perth and Melfort, as they carried out the King’s will in Scotland.

Then the Revolution had happened and they had had to flee. Her husband had eventually gone back, and had been ignored by the new monarchs-the usurpers-whilst Anne had remained. Originally, another Countess of Erroll, Catherine, had been named governess for the Prince, but when she had died, Anne had been chosen instead. It was a duty she took seriously.

The Prince-now King-was a sweet child, a boy who listened attentively whenever spoken to, someone who did what he was asked and never carried out any trouble. These were good qualities in a young boy, but now without his father or mother around, he was the King and the head of the Royal House.

He would need to grow into that role, and Anne needed to figure out a way to make sure that that happened. How, was something she was still trying to work out. It would come to her eventually though.

“Lady Anne, Lady Anne!” The King calling to her made Anne blink.

“Yes?” Anne replied, looking to where the King was standing.

“I managed to catch Walnut, Lady Anne!” The King beamed.

Walnut, otherwise known as James Waldegrave, Lord Waldegrave was the King’s nephew, and was a tall young boy, with long brownish hair and a charming smile.

“Well done!” Anne replied smiling. She knew how often the King had tried to catch his older nephew and the thrill he would feel having done so now.

“It’s your turn!” The King said to Walnut. The boy nodded and turned around to start counting.

The King and his cousin, James Radclyffe-son of Lord Radclyffe-ran off to the corner of the room and started to hide behind one or two of the chairs.

Anne smiled, it was good to see the King enjoying himself. The King was a good boy, but he was a serious child, and sometimes the activities that most boys his age were engaged in were denied to him.

She did find herself wondering whether such things would be allowed again with all the changes that were occurring. She did not know everything, but she did know that the Earl of Powis was meeting with William of Orange about something.

Whether it was to do with the payment of the former Queen’s jointure or something else she did not know. But she did have a feeling that whatever the results of that meeting, things were going to change.

Anne had spoken with her brother James, Earl of Perth, about this, but all he had said to her was that things were moving. In what direction and for whom, he would not say. She had not bothered asking their brother John. He never told her anything after all.

“Found you!” Came a cry, Anne blinked and saw that Walnut had found the King and Radclyffe.

The King huffed. Anne smiled, the King never liked being caught, which was understandable. She had never liked being caught either when she was his age.

She expected another game to begin, but instead, the King walked over to her and asked. “When can I see Mama?”

The King spoke his English with a slight accent, no doubt the result of being raised in Saint Germain, and the question, well the question was quite pertinent. She had explained to the King that his mother had passed on, that she had gone for a great sleep with his father, and the King had accepted that.

But, as with all small children, he still asked on occasion to see her, and it was Anne’s duty to gently tell him that he couldn’t not until the funeral.

“Soon, dear, soon.” She said.

“But when?” The King persisted. “I want to see my mama!”

Anne took a breath. “You will be able to see her very soon, dear, I promise.” As soon as the funeral occurred, which would be any day now. Her brother, John, was the one organising that and as with everything else he did, it was happening, slowly.

The King looked at her as if trying to find some way to say she was lying, he blinked once then asked. “When can I see my seester?”

Anne took a deep breath. As a way of explaining what had happened to his mother, the Queen, Anne had explained that the birth of the King’s sister had tired out the Queen and that was why she had gone for the long sleep. Since then the King had demanded almost regularly to see his sister.

For the past few weeks, Anne had had to say that that could not happen. Largely because the girl was too small to be of any interest or for it to be safe. But now, well, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt?

“We can go and see her today, if you would like?” She offered.

The King immediately smiled, a smile that made Anne’s heart melt to see it.

“I…I would wike that.” The King said smiling. He surprised her then by hugging her.

Anne instinctively wrapped her arms around the King and hugged him back and as she did so, she found herself thinking of her own children back in Scotland. She missed them terribly. She hoped they were being looked after and that she would be able to see them soon.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 13: A Letter​

July, 1692
​

My dearest Mary,

I write to you from Namur. It is cold, dark and grey here, despite the summer month. The army so far has maintained its good health and good standing, which is encouraging given that the French are not too far away.

As I wrote in my last letter, I have met with King Louis of France to discuss a mutually beneficial solution to the matter of our succession.

Whilst he played difficult at first, he eventually came round and the terms that he has offered are reasonable.

They are as follows:

• James Francis Edward will be recognised as our heir, declared Prince of Wales and Duke of Cornwall and Rothesay. With full rights to income and estate of the Duchy.
• The household of James Francis shall accompany him back to London, those of his household who took up arms against us are to be pardoned.
• Any member of the Court of Saint Germain who wishes to return to England, Scotland and Ireland with James Francis is to be allowed to do so, they will be allowed to return to their estates and incomes.

Those were reasonable terms, and would hopefully heal the rift that divided the Kingdoms since they had ascended the throne.

There was one other thing that her husband had written that took her by surprise.

The Dowager Queen gave birth to a daughter before departing this mortal world. The girl is named Louisa and shall be travelling with her nurses and her brother.

I know that things are difficult at the moment what with Shrewsbury and Halifax perhaps wanting to settle the succession via an Act of Parliament. Hold them off, speak with Carmarthen and if necessary Sunderland.

Yours

William

The news about the birth of a girl to her step-mother was not surprising, Mary had been informed of that. What was surprising was that her husband had decided to allow the girl to travel back to London with her brother.

She had thought that William would leave the girl behind. But she supposed it would be better to have her here, so that she could be used for a marriage alliance that would benefit England, rather than left for France.

She was about to start writing a response, when one of her grooms of the chamber appeared.

“Lord Carmarthen is here to see you, Your Majesty.”

Mary nodded, she had asked to see the man after all. “Show him in.” She commanded.

The groom bowed, left then reappeared a few moments later with Carmarthen.

“Your Majesty.” The man said, bowing low.

“Be seated.” Mary commanded. Carmarthen took the seat offered him and sat.

Carmarthen’s age was beginning to show. His face was white as a sheet, his hair looked as though it might be falling out-and that was with a wig on-and his eyes, his eyes bore the mark of a man who had spent far too long staring at papers in dim light.

“We have summoned you here today to discuss a few matters. Firstly, the issue of Parliament. We understand that a new Bill is to be introduced in the session after summer?” Mary asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Carmarthen replied. “A group of members in the Commons have decided to introduce a bill that would ensure elections are held for a new Parliament every three years.”

“Similar to the Triennial Bill passed during the reigns of my uncle and grandfather?” Mary asked. During her own studies, she had found the latter bill to be quite onerous, whilst the former bill was surprisingly fair.

“More toward the end of what was passed during the reign of King Charles I, Your Majesty. They wish for this bill to enforce the Parliament’s power over the Crown.” Carmarthen said, barely able to hide his disgust.

“Is this due to the Place Bill being defeated?” Mary asked.

She had not had to use coercion, the moment the member of the Commons who had introduced the Place Bill had recanted, the Bill had been thrown out. Disgruntled Whigs were said to be meeting in taverns across London, trying to find a new way to curb Royal Influence. What they didn’t know was that they were being watched.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Those who wish to see it pass are the same who voiced their support for the Place Bill.” Carmarthen replied.

“What would you advise?” Mary asked.

Carmarthen took a deep breath and winced as he did so.

“I would advise that the succession be cleared, Your Majesty. Those introducing these bills are doing so because they are trying to find a way to control the situation. It is imperative therefore, that Your Majesties control the situation. Clear up the issue of the succession and all other concerns shall be forgotten.”

And replaced with a whole new host of issues. Mary thought wryly, she was not naïve. She knew exactly how Parliament worked. But, perhaps she could show Carmarthen the letter that William had sent her? He had after all advised her to seek the man’s advice.

“Perhaps then, we could get your view on this matter.” She picked up William’s letter and handed it to Carmarthen.

Carmarthen read through it and when he was finished he said.

“I see that Your Majesties have been very busy.”

The comment was said with some humour, but also perhaps a touch of reproach. He was meant to be their chief minister after all.

Mary said nothing, she had learned with time that the best way to know a person’s true thoughts was to see what they said to break the silence.

Carmarthen did eventually break the silence. His tone steady. “I believe that these terms are reasonable Your Majesty. Naming James Francis Edward as Your Majesties heir will help reconcile the differing factions both within and without the Kingdoms, both politically and within the Church. The return of members of the Court of Saint Germain will be difficult to manage but given their differing desires and measures, I believe that it can be done.”

“Furthermore, in the long term, this is the perfect opportunity.” Carmarthen finished.

“Opportunity.” Mary said softly. What was it with men and constantly wanting to find opportunity in every little thing?

“He would be a child, Your Majesty. A child with no memory of his father or in time his mother. Your Majesties would be the closest thing to parents that he knows. Your Majesties can shape him to be the ideal Protestant Prince, such that Parliament would never dare raise a hackle against him.” Carmarthen answered, something like fervour entering his voice.

Mary considered that. She remembered the stories she had been told as a little girl about Prince Henry Frederick, her grandfather’s older brother, who had been raised as the ideal Protestant heir, only to die so young. Perhaps this was a way to fulfil his unfulfilled potential.

“We would need to ensure that he has the right tutors and influences.” Mary said. No Papists could be allowed anywhere near him.

“Of course, Your Majesty. Bishop Compton would be an admirable tutor.” Carmarthen said.

Mary agreed, he had tutored her and Anne when they had been girls. “The Countess of Errol is currently his governess; she should be kept in place.” Mary did not want to completely harm her brother’s development after all.

“Quite so, Your Majesty. Her husband, the Earl has remained quiet on his vast estates. It would be a reasonable reward.” Carmarthen agreed.

“What of Parliament? Now that you know of what is happening, would you advise bringing them into the circle as well?” Mary asked. She could just imagine the chaos that could emerge if they were not.

She was surprised therefore when Carmarthen said. “I believe that Parliament should not be told until the Prince and Princess are in England, Your Majesty.”
Mary raised an eyebrow and Carmarthen explained.

“If they learn beforehand, they may well try and rush something through. I know that contradicts what I said before, but Parliament is not entirely rational. Therefore, we must ensure that they are caught unawares and must adapt.”

“And how do you propose we keep them from suspecting?” Mary asked.

“Depending on how long it takes for His Majesty to return with the Prince and Princess, we could simply allow Parliament to go into its summer recess and not do anything. Or if it is still an issue when Parliament returns, we can delay legislation through various means.” Carmarthen answered.

Mary took that information in, she did not think that William would be away for too long, but one could never be too careful. “Please ensure both scenarios are planned for.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Carmarthen replied bowing low, as Mary dismissed him.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 14: Melfort’s Quandary​

July, 1692
​

“This agreement has gone through?” John asked, barely able to believe what he had just read.

“It has.” William Herbert, Earl of Powis replied. “The agreement was signed two weeks ago between King Louis and King William.”

“King William?!” John exclaimed, was Powis serious about this? Truly?!

“King William.” Powis agreed.

“You have betrayed every oath you swore to King James!” John snarled.

Powis seemed unperturbed by what John had just said. Instead, he very calmly replied. “On the contrary, I have succeeded in achieving what His Majesty asked of me.”

“How?!” John demanded.

“I have ensured that his son will in time ascend the throne. It may be behind King William and Queen Mary, but it will happen. Furthermore, His Majesty’s daughter shall be raised a Princess. They will be secure and cared for. Which is exactly what His Majesty wanted.” Powis said.

John wanted to snarl that that was not the case, that Powis had betrayed everything, but before he could, his brother, the Earl of Perth spoke.

“Lord Powis is not wrong, John. We all swore we would do what we could to protect and secure the King’s children and to ensure that they could have what is rightfully theirs. Lord Powis has done that.”

“At the cost of recognising the legitimacy of William and Mary’s usurpation!” John snarled.

“In exchange for ensuring that the rightful line is restored. Not at once, but gradually. We could not afford to wait for fifteen years for the Prince to become a grown man to lead the restoration.” Powis snapped, his patience clearly beginning to thin.

“We could have done something?!” John snapped. “We could have stirred things in England and Scotland. Ireland is still there for us. We could have done something!”

“You are a fool!” Powis said, his voice taking on a chiding tone. “The opportunity arose and we took it. That King Louis saw it as an opportunity and decided to take it, should tell you everything.”

John wanted to snap that King Louis was not the smartest man, that his toothache-despite his attempts to cover that up, word had reached Saint Germain-had left him a shadow of what he once was. But instead, all he asked was.

“What happens now?”

Powis seemed as if he was waiting for John to raise more complaints, but John had nothing more to complain about. He had lost, he could see that now.

“Now, the Prince and Princess and their household will depart for Le Havre. Those of the Court who wish to return home are invited to join them.” Powis said.

“Where will the ships go from Le Havre?” John asked.

“To Dover, where they will then meet with King William and venture to London.” Powis said.

“The man is going to meet the Prince?” John asked, a sense of fear creeping into him then. He remembered the stories he had heard about William of Orange, and about everything else. That if anything confirmed that he needed to be there. He would not allow his King’s son to meet William of Orange without him there.

“Yes, he intends to enter London with his heir.” Powis said.

“I will venture to London with the…the Prince.” John said. He would bring his family with him.

“I will also.” His brother the Earl of Perth said.

Powis nodded and made a note. “Very well, I shall make sure to inform the ships captains.”

“Who else is going?” John asked.

“The Countess of Erroll, of course, Lord Waldegrave and his mother, the Earl of Derwentwater and his family, The Duke of Albemarle, the Earl and Countess of Almond and countless others.” Powis said.

“What of the Duke of Berwick?” John asked, if the King’s greatest commander and son departed for London then perhaps everything would be as it should be.

Powis did not immediately answer, instead, he looked down at his notes, when he did reply his voice was soft. “Berwick is remaining in France for a time. Until things are completely settled.”

John nodded, that did not completely change his view, he had said he would go, and go he would.

“Now, is there anything else either of you require from me? If not, I must go.” Powis said.

“No, nothing more.” John replied.

“No, nothing.” Perth answered.

Powis nodded. “Very well, then I shall see you all in a few days’ time for when we depart for Le Havre.” With that Powis took his leave.

When he was gone, John looked at his brother, Perth and said. “We must ensure we gain influence in Scotland.” That was important, they could not allow the Presbyterians to take anything from the Crown.

“We will need to become Protestant again if we want that.” Perth said.

John nodded, he had converted to Catholicism once for power, if converting back to Protestantism was needed to gain power once more, then he would do so. “Then we had best get started.” He replied, smiling.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 15: Louis​

August, 1692

​

Mons, the citadel that had lingered within his dreams for many years before it had eventually fallen, was quiet. The hour was early yet, and Louis knew he had to work quickly before that changed. There was much that needed to be discussed. Much that needed to be directed.

The key issues would be addressed now. Pomponne, Luxembourg and Vauban were all present in the great chamber of the citadel with him. Boufflers, he’d assigned with keeping an eye on the enemy. He ignored the ache in his teeth as he spoke.

“Our agreement with King William,” how he loathed calling that usurper King, but the agreement had stipulated it. “will last until the end of the campaign season this year. Therefore, we must plan accordingly.”

Whilst he had initially been reluctant to allow the chance to take Namur to go, he had found another benefit.

“The men are prepared and ready for any course of action, Sire.” Luxembourg said. “All Your Most Christian Majesty need do is instruct and we will follow.”

Louis glanced at Vauban and from the man’s nod, was told that the same was true of his troops. Satisfied, Louis said. “We have two choices. Either we go for Namur when the season starts once more, or we venture elsewhere.” Namur would be the expected course, and he was getting tired of that.

“If I may, Your Most Christian Majesty?” Vauban asked.

Louis gestured for the man to go ahead, and so he did.

“Namur would be difficult to take at the best of times, but now with the enemy expecting us to march on it, it will be even more trying. I would recommend we go for another more reasonable target.”

“And where would that be?” Louis asked.

“Soignies.” Vauban said.

Louis raised an eyebrow, he had not expected that place to be mentioned by Vauban. “Soignies.” He repeated.

“Yes, Sire, I feel that the town is an easier venture than Namur for the time being. It will not be expected, especially if a small force is sent to Namur as a diversion. Once Soignies is taken, we can then plan for the next attack.” Vauban said.

Louis mused on this, Soignies was not too far from Brussels, and if they took Brussels, then this war was as good as over. His dream would be realised. It sounded like a very, very good plan, but there was something lurking in the back of his mind about it.

“They may come to expect it.” He fully expected William of Orange to suspect that this was the plan when he realised that the full army was not at Namur.

“It is possible, but if we move with enough heft, we can ensure that they do not know until it is too late.” Vauban said.

Louis considered what the man said, he supposed Vauban was not wrong. There were options that they could pursue that would help ensure that their true mission was not found out until much later.

He bit back a wince as his tooth ache worsened.

“We would require you to venture to Namur then.” He said eventually, thankful that his teeth had not gotten worse.

Vauban bowed his head in acknowledgement. “Of course, Sire.”

Louis then turned to Luxembourg. “You and Boufflers shall command our army on the attack on Soignies.” Knowing them the town would fall relatively quickly.

“Yes, Sire.” Luxembourg said.

“Your two forces shall depart here at the start of the campaign season. We shall stagger your departures though to confuse the enemy.” Louis said. Let them think that something was going on, but let it not be clear what exactly was going on.

“Yes, Sire.” Both men replied.

Satisfied, Louis dismissed them. Once it was just he and Pomponne alone, he said. “You have selected who the spies within the Prince’s household shall be.” He knew that it was expected that he would have spies within the boy’s household, he’d chosen two people who would be obvious as a little surprise, and then asked Pomponne to choose those who would serve as the actual spies.

“I have, Sire.” Pomponne replied. “Members of the Prince’s domestic household, servants who would never be looked at twice.”

“Good.” He wanted to ask whether the man was sure that these servants would hold firm, but he would not insult Pomponne’s intelligence by asking that.

“If I may ask, Sire.” Pomponne said hesitantly.

“Speak.” Louis commanded.

“Is it wise to have so many fingers open within the pie, given the agreement that has been negotiated?” Pomponne asked.

Louis grimaced, his teeth had decided to take that moment to flare with pain. He pushed the pain down and answered.

“Perhaps there are other alternatives, but it is essential that we know exactly what is happening and when it is happening as regards the Prince.” Louis answered.

That was the key thing, especially with the complications that the 1688 revolution had sparked in England.

He expected Pomponne to dig a little more, but the man merely nodded, accepting his answer.

Louis took a deep breath and said. “Unless there is anything else, you may go.”

Pomponne rose, bowed and then departed. When he was gone, Louis summoned the doctor, who came and examined his teeth, when the man was done, the man’s answer to Louis’ question was not good.

“Your Most Christian Majesty will need treatment as soon as possible.” The Doctor said.

“What will happen if it is delayed?” Louis asked.

“Nothing good will come from it, Sire.” The man answered.

Louis exhaled. “Then when I return, we shall have that procedure.” Perhaps that would stop his pain. He hoped it would at least.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 16: Churchill​

August, 1692

​

Sarah watched as the Queen and the Countess of Derby spoke in hurried tones. The Queen was not a demonstrative woman-she had spent too long in the Netherlands for that-but from the way her tone sounded, Sarah got the impression she was demanding something.

The Countess of Derby being the level-headed woman that she was, was nodding in all the right places, making small comments where it seemed appropriate, and then when the Queen seemed finished, she curtseyed and hurried off to do whatever it was the Queen had tasked her with.

The Queen’s attention then turned to the Countess of Scarborough and they engaged in a conversation. Sarah had to admit that the Queen was completely different to how she had imagined she would be.

Admittedly, her interactions with the Queen before this, had all been when her former mistress, Princess Anne, had been alive, and so had been coloured by Anne’s feelings toward the Queen.

Back then, Sarah had thought the Queen highly strung, and not at all what was needed for England. Now, after nearly two months in the Queen’s service, she had to say, she had gotten it wrong. The Queen was not highly strung.

Indeed, the Queen seemed to be more at ease the longer one got to know her. When she was comfortable, she could be very charming and sweet. And Sarah had seen how she had handled the politicians of her husband, the King’s government. She had played them like a fiddle and none of them seemed to realise it.

“You are staring.” A woman said, making Sarah turn around to see Gertrude Saville, Marchioness of Halifax looking at her, an amused look on her face.

Sarah blushed. “I…”

“She is an interesting woman.” Halifax said.

“Sorry?” Sarah replied cautiously.

“Her Majesty.” Halifax replied. “She is a fascinating woman; I can understand why you would wish to observe her.”

Sarah got the sense that the other woman was trying to get her to open up, something that she had never been very good at. But given what she wanted from the Queen, perhaps it would not hurt to have the woman on side. “You are right, my lady. She is a very interesting woman.”

Sarah paused, as if considering her next words, as she had hoped Halifax was leaning forward intently.

Sarah decided to push through. “I have never met a woman so able to balance the demands of power as well as Her Majesty.” Sarah had never met a Queen before, well, unless you counted the Queen’s departed step-mother.

“Indeed, it is something that does her great credit.” Halifax replied. “Something that is needed when dealing with courtiers.”

There was something in the other woman’s tone that made Sarah curious. Was the woman implying that the fickle nature of King Charles II’s court remained? Surely not?

“What do you mean?” She asked, deciding on the blunt course.

“Well, before Her Majesty’s father died, there were many courtiers who were in communication with Saint-Germain, trying to play both sides. They were no doubt trying to ensure their safety whatever the future held. They would smile and praise Her Majesty one moment, whilst the next, they’d be begging Her Majesty’s father for pardon the next. Such a thing requires skill and patience to handle.”

The woman didn’t say it out loud, but Sarah heard the implication regarding her own husband, and she took a breath to prevent herself from saying something she would regret. John remained in the Tower, and she knew not how to get him out.

“She is a woman who knows how to get people to do what she wants without needing to resort to the sort of threats and intimidation that men and lesser women use.” Halifax continued.

“At the same time, she is someone who knows when to be forgiving and when to allow those who supplicate themselves before her, to get what they want.”

That last was said with a direct look at her. Sarah swallowed, so the woman knew what she wanted did she?

“And how would you advise someone such as that to proceed?” She asked.

“You must show the right amount of contrition and ask how high when she says to jump. You must show that you are willing to put any airs you have behind you.” Halifax said.

Sarah nodded, she could do that. She could do that.

“And you must be willing to do whatever else Her Majesty asks, implied or not. You must be ready to anticipate.” Halifax continued.

Sarah frowned, how was she meant to anticipate what the Queen wanted if the Queen herself did not know? Before she could ask that though, the Queen summoned her.

Sarah got off her chair and walked to the Queen, she curtseyed before her and waited.

“Sarah,” the Queen said, looking right at her. “You are friendly with the Duchess of Somerset are you not?”

“I am, Your Majesty.” Sarah replied, the Duchess of Somerset was one of the few women who had been part of Anne’s household that she could tolerate.

“Then we wish for you to speak with her. Tell her that she is to present herself before us before the gathering in two weeks’ time.” The Queen commanded.

Sarah blinked, the gathering, supposedly it was being held to welcome the King back from the campaign season, but Sarah suspected that there was another reason for it. Especially if the rumours were true. But if the Duchess was being asked to present herself, clearly the Queen wanted all her cards sorted. The Duchess was wealthy and her husband had influence in Parliament.

“I…of course, Your Majesty.” Sarah said.

The Queen smiled. “Thank you, Sarah.” Sarah curtseyed and was about to leave, when the Queen added. “We shall speak with our husband about Lord Marlborough when he returns.”

Sarah’s heart quickened, but she managed to keep her voice even when she replied.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 17: First Meeting​

August, 1692

​

Mary found that she was barely able to focus on the list she was supposed to be looking at. Her mind kept racing with thoughts of what was to come. Four days ago, William had sent a rider, Portland, to tell her that he would be in Kensington today and since then she had not been able to think of anything else.

To have her husband here, with her again, was something she had looked forward to for so long, and for it to be in these circumstances was both a relief and a sorrow. A relief because he was alive and well and they had managed to secure the succession without bloodshed or needing to involve Parliament. Sorrow, because it had taken the deaths of their nephew and Anne for this to happen.

She blinked and put the list to one side, she would look at it later. Right now, she needed to be ready. She straightened her dress and waited. The door opened and one of the guards stepped into the room.

“His Majesty the King, Your Majesty.”

Mary nodded and rose, the guard stepped back. Mary exhaled as her husband walked in. He stepped into the room and relief flooded her at seeing his dark hair, and his person unruffled and unhurt. It took all her will not to run into his arms.

She looked from her husband to the child who walked with him and her breath left her.

The boy holding her husband’s hand looked like the spitting image of her father and her brother, the boy who had been born a year after her who had died all those years ago. Another James. He had her father’s nose, and his mother’s mouth, and his hair, his hair was a darkish brown.

If she closed her eyes, she could imagine her other brother who shared this boy’s name, standing before her.

She blinked, William and the boy now stood before her.

She curtseyed before him. “Your Majesty.”

William inclined his head. “Your Majesty.”

The formalities out of the way, she lowered herself down to allow William to kiss her on the cheek, then she looked at the boy. The boy remained holding William’s hand, staring up at her.

“May I present His Royal Highness Prince James Francis Edward Stuart.” William said, the accent in his English still there after all these years.

Mary smiled and knelt down so that she was looking at the boy from his eye level, it might be a breach of etiquette and propriety, but she did not care. Something in her was telling her that this was the right thing to do.

“James, a pleasure to meet you.” She said. The boy bowed his head and in a high-pitched voice said.

“Your Majesty.”

Still kneeling, Mary asked. “How was your journey?” She knew that the journey was likely an intriguing and exciting event for the boy.

She was right as James’ eyes lit up. “It was fun, we saw dolphins!”

“You did?” Mary asked, she remembered being excited the first time she’d ever seen a dolphin many years ago.

“We did!” James replied excitedly. “It was very big and it came and swam near to us. They make funny noises!”

“They do don’t they.” Mary replied smiling. “How has your stay in England been so far? Do you like it?”

She expected James’ smile to lessen then but instead it widened. “I wike it very much. It so green and it smells so very nice. There are wots of trees.”

Mary nodded. “Do you have a favourite tree?” She asked.

“Oak!” James replied.

“Well, later when you’ve settled a bit more, we can have a look at some of the oak trees in the gardens. Would you like that?” She asked.

James nodded. “Yes, I would, thank you!”

Mary smiled. James fell silent then and let go of William’s hand to wander around the room. Mary rose back to her full height.

Keeping one eye on James, she looked at William. Despite the quickness of his journey, her husband did not look tired. Indeed, he seemed invigorated.

As if reading her mind, William spoke then, in Dutch, a language she had learned to speak almost as well as she did English and French.

“The journey was reasonable; James was well behaved. The Countess of Erroll and the Duchess of Tyrconnell were good at keeping him occupied.”

Mary nodded, she would speak to him about Tyrconnell later.

“Melfort, Perth, Almond and Derwentwater made the journey back with us, as did a few others in James’ household.”

Mary raised an eyebrow, she remembered how her husband had rallied against Melfort many years ago, before the revolution. That he had been allowed back was surprising.

“Is that wise?” She asked.

“Melfort?” William asked, Mary nodded, and her husband replied. “He will be watched. His brother has promised to keep an eye on him.”

Mary nodded.

“Berwick will be allowed to return to England when the campaign season ends.” William added. Mary raised an eyebrow, she was surprised that her half-brother would want to return here, and that King Louis would allow him.

“He asked if he could return.” William explained. “I spoke with Louis about it, and he agreed.”

Mary nodded in acceptance.

“How are things here?” William asked.

“About as well as can be expected. Parliament has been tied up with a variety of bills to keep them away from the succession.” Mary replied. “They do not know that you have brought James home, only that you have returned.”

William seemed happy with that for he leaned up and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

William seemed as if he was about to ask her something, but before he could, James ran back to them and looked between them and asked, in English.

“Are you my mama and papa now?”

Mary felt something like panic and hope flit into her being then, she looked at William who looked back at her and she saw pure fear in his eyes.

With a deep breath, Mary answered, in English. “Yes, sweetheart, we are.”

She did not know what reaction she expected, certainly not for James to run up and hug her. She looked at William and then at James and felt something. She just hoped that her step-mother did not hate her.

 

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 18: Parliament​

August, 1692
​

The robes were heavy; William could feel their weight pressing on him. He hated the ceremony and the pomp that went with the role, but it was seen as a necessary thing. Even though some wanted to clip the Crown’s wings, others recognised that half the appeal was the mystical aspect of the Crown. That included these damned robes.

Thankfully, as he walked up the steps and turned around, he could see that the Lords were equally uncomfortable. It was the middle of summer after all, and it was damnably hot. William took a breath and then sat down. Mary sat next to him, on his right.

The members of both houses of Parliament took their seats, where they were available. William waited and took a deep breath. Everything had been planned down to the last detail, and the Earl of Dorset, his Lord Chamberlain, stood at the foot of the throne, staff in hand.

The man bowed low and took his seat to the right of the steps. William exhaled, glanced at Mary, then spoke.

“My lords and honourable gentlemen, we thank you all for coming on what we know is a surprising call to visit. We understand that the weather is unusually warm,” that brought some wry smiles from what he could see, he continued. “therefore, we shall get right to the point.”

“When we ascended the throne three years ago, there was a great deal of chaos and uncertainty. Many wondered whether things would stabilise.” He took a breath, he could feel a cough approaching, he just hoped that it didn’t come now. That would not be good.

“We are thankful to you all, gentlemen, for the support you have shown us, and for the good works you continue to do in our name.” He did not mention that many of those here had been in communication with his father in law, he had taken that for granted.

“Of course, a King’s duty means securing the succession.” William closed his mouth and waited for the coughing fit to disappear. Thankfully, nothing happened.

He saw some of the Lords look at one another in that silence, he wondered whether they thought he was going to keel over there and then. Whether they thought he would announce his approval of their measure to name Sophia of the Palatinate as heiress to he and Mary.

Much as he might like Sophia, he would have to disappoint her and them.

“We know that there has been much concern and worry over the succession given our beloved sister, Princess Anne’s death. We also appreciate that many of you gathered here have tried to resolve this issue through an Act of Parliament.”

He kept his voice calm, though even mentioning that made him want to shout. How dare these people think they could meddle with the succession! He knew that Mary thought the events that had befallen them recently were because of how the succession had been handled during the revolution. Whilst he might not agree with her, he did not appreciate these fools before him trying to meddle.

William looked around the room, taking in everything and everyone. He took a deep breath, allowing himself to feel calm, then he spoke once more.

“That is why we are delighted to announce that we have resolved the issue of the succession once and for all.”

William looked at Dorset, who nodded to two of the guards who stood at the far end of the chamber. They opened the doors, and William watched with some amusement as every eye in the chamber turned to see what would happen.

The Earl of Manchester dressed in the uniform of the Yeomen of the Guard entered accompanying Prince James. The boy was dressed in Stuart blue, his hair shining in the light.

There were murmurs as the boy and Manchester walked toward the throne. William could imagine exactly what people were saying to one another. They were wondering who this boy was, and why he was here.

When Manchester and the boy got to within a few feet of the steps that led to the throne, the boy smiled and exclaimed. “Mama! Papa!” He ran up the steps to the throne and stood in front of William and Mary.

William glanced at Mary who smiled, barely holding back a laugh.

William took a breath, he wasn’t used to children, but this had to be done. He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, wincing at the pain that lanced through him as he did so.
The boy looked at him and smiled, and William felt something stir, was it affection?

Those gathered before them were murmuring quite loudly now. No doubt wondering where the boy had come from and some may be wondering who he was.

William raised his free hand and the murmuring stopped.

“My lords and honourable gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you, His Royal Highness Prince James Francis Edward, our beloved heir.” William said.

That sparked even more murmuring, someone even shouted something. William ignored them and continued. “As tradition states, we have presented our heir to you, to show that the succession is secure and that there shall be no future attempts against the stability of this Kingdom.” At least if the boy was raised properly.

The boy was looking at him with wide eyes. He used the hand on the boy’s shoulder to apply a little bit of pressure and the boy turned around to face the chamber.

There was a bit of commotion when seven men stepped forward from the benches. The Earl of Shrewsbury led them as they came before the throne and knelt.

“I, Charles, Earl of Shrewsbury do pledge my life and limb before Your Majesties, and do pledge to serve His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales in whatever way I can, from this day till my last.”

Shrewsbury kept his head down as the other men pledged themselves.

“I, William, Earl of Devonshire do pledge my life and limb before Your Majesties and do pledge to serve His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales in whatever way I can, from this day to my last.”

“I, Thomas, Marquess of Carmarthen do pledge my life and limb before Your Majesties and do pledge to serve His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales in whatever way I can, from this day to my last.”

“I, Henry, Viscount Sydney do pledge myself in life and limb before Your Majesties and do promise to serve His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales from this day to my last.”

“I, Richard, Earl of Scarborough do pledge my life and limb before Your Majesties and do pledge to serve His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales in whatever way I can, from this day to my last.”

“I, Edward, Admiral of the Fleet, do pledge before Your Majesties to serve His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales in whatever way I can from this day to my last.”

William noted that Edward and Sydney had amended the oath they were to swear in a few words, he wondered whether that was deliberate. He made a note internally to keep an eye on them.

The final oath-swearer of the seven was Henry Compton, Bishop of London and when he had finished swearing the oath, he kissed the ground in front of the thrones.

The men remained kneeling, their oath swearing was symbolic. These were the men who had sent the invitation to him all those years ago, to start the war that removed his father in law. Now they had sworn to recognise the succession as he and Mary had wanted.

Their swearing prompted others to rise and do the same.

When the last man had sworn, someone shouted.

“God Save Their Majesties and His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales! May they live forever!” And the shout was taken up by a great many others.

The boy, James, looked at William and then at Mary, and Mary extended her hand and the boy took it and moved over to her. William felt the loss however brief but was happy that the future was secure.

 

[VVD0D95]

So, this is the end of the beginning, but not the end, end.

I've always been curious as to how one could ensure a smooth adoption and thanks to @King of Danes @Kellan Sullivan @Jonathan and @Valena as well as a friend who isn't on here, was able to find a way to make it work.

I hope you've enjoyed Part 1, and I've appreciated all your feedback

Stay tuned for Part 2. If any of you have any suggestions on what you'd like to see, please let me know

 

[VVD0D95]

Relief

September, 1692​

The room was painted white, there were signs that paintings were to be hung on the walls, but that the owner of the room had not yet gotten round to it. John found that odd, he would never have thought that the King would be quite so absent-minded, but then, Sarah had told him that a lot had happened since he had been arrested all those months ago.

Firstly, there had been the death of the Duke of Gloucester, a blow that had surely caused all to panic. Then there had been the deaths of Princess Anne and her child in birth. That had caused the entire Kingdom to panic, so Sarah had said. Parliament had tried to influence the King and the Queen into declaring their preferred successor to be the Duchess of Brunswick-Luneburg, but both had held out.

Then had come the surprise announcement. With the old King-someone John had once respected but had gradually grown alienated from-dead, and with the old Queen-blameless for her husband’s crimes-dead, there remained just one thing to do. Sarah had said that the King had decided on the course and the Queen had agreed. Now, the boy whose birth had prompted the King and Queen to come over from the sea, was their heir.

John had not known how to react to any of this news. It had been quite a lot to take in, and given that Sarah herself had been kept in the dark for most of it, he had asked her how she had come to know. And that had been when the greatest surprise had come. The Queen had named Sarah as one of her ladies, and so, now Sarah had access to a woman who had once hated her profusely.

How fortune changed!

John took a breath as the door opened and the owner of the room entered. The man’s hair was thinning, and his skin was pale white. He looked unhealthy, but John bowed all the same.

“Your Majesty.”

The King nodded at him. The King took his seat, but John remained standing. There was no chair for him. He did not think the King’s sense of propriety would allow it.

“Lord Marlborough.” The King said, his English sounding more accented. The King must be tired.

“We are aware that your wife, the Lady Marlborough has informed you of the changes within the Kingdom since last we met.”

John had been surprised that Sarah had been allowed to visit him. She had not been allowed to before, but seeing as she was now one of the Queen’s ladies, it had made sense.

There was a brief moment of silence where John wondered if he was meant to say something. It passed quickly though, for the King continued.

“The war is currently hovering between completion and expanding.”

John took a moment to understand. The war in Europe. The War with France, the whole reason that the King had wanted the Crown to begin with.

“The French agreed to temporary pause in hostilities in the Spanish Netherlands whilst the Prince of Wales was brought home. But now that that has been achieved they are preparing to engage in war once more.”

The King clapped his hands and two servants appeared carrying a map and a table. The table was put between John and the King, whilst the map was placed on it. There were markings on the map. John bent down and saw that the markings reflected where the French had men stationed.

“They will go for Brussels.” John said instantly when he saw the area left vacant.

The King’s face didn’t change, but his voice sounded questioning. “What makes you sure?”

John pointed to the marks on the map. “They hold strategic fortresses that make their supply lines easier to manage. But they will want to make this war end quickly.” If he had read King Louis right, with his one bit of leverage against the King gone, he’d want to end fighting quickly before the allies had time to counter. “They’ll abandon any pretensions of a siege anywhere else and thrust out straight for Brussels. If I was commanding, Your Majesty, I would fortify Brussels and try and engage the enemy in battle before they got there.”

“Steenkirk.” The King said, pointing to a fortress halfway between Mons and Brussels.

“Exactly, Sire. That would be the right place to fight. The ground is within our favour.” John said. “An aggressive strategy that forces the French to react rather than act would be what I would go for.”

The King did something John had never seen him do before, he smiled! The man looked at John and said. “I was right.”

“Sire?” John asked unsure what the King meant.

“Some members of the army board felt I was wrong to meet with you. They said your advice could not be trusted. But you have provided more sense in this conversation than they have done in the last month and a half.” The King said.
John felt something like a thrill run through him. It was rare that a King praised him. The old King certainly never had.

“That is why we want you to accompany us to the front next year.” The King said. “We shall restore you to your commission, and furthermore make you a Gentleman of our Bedchamber.”

John blinked. He was surprised. He had not expected this. He didn’t know what to say at first. The King was looking at him expectantly though, which prompted him to bow his head. “I…I am honoured, Your Majesty.”

“We shall expect you at a meeting of the Army Board tomorrow.” With that the King turned and left, leaving John standing there, unsure of what had just happened.