“And my heart, Louise,” he said, in admiration. “Back to the King! Do nothing rash. We will banish thy rival, dear hostess.”
He did not add, save in thought, that Nell’s banishment, if left to him, would be to his own country estate.
There was almost a touch of affection in the Duchess’s voice as she prepared to join the King.
“Leave all to me, my lord,” she said, then courtesied low.
“Yea, all but Nell!” reflected his lordship, as he watched her depart. “With this ring, I’ll keep thee wedded to jealous interest, and so enrich my purse and power. Thou art a great woman, fair France; I half love thee myself. But thou knowest only a moiety of my purpose. The other half is Nell!”
He stood absorbed in his own thoughts.
The draperies at the further doorway, on which was worked in Gobelin tapestry a forest with its grand, imposing oaks, were pushed nervously aside. Jack Hart entered, mask in hand, and scanned the room with skeptic eye.
“A happy meeting,” mused Buckingham, reflecting upon Hart’s one-time ardour for Mistress Nell and upon the possibility that that ardour, if directed by himself, might yet compromise Nell in the King’s eyes and lead to the realization of his own fond dreams of greater wealth and power and, still more sweet, to the possession of his choice among all the beauties of the realm.
“It is a sad hour,” thought Hart, glancing at the merry dancers through the arch, “when all the world, like players, wear masks.”