However, though my heart wanted it, I could not find the words. I could not fathom explaining it all.
Feeling desperate, I tried to think of a way out. I looked at him and he stared right back, watching every mood pass over my face, listening to every huff of frustration I let out. I decided I would have to deceive him. I did not want to, but my mind would not allow words of explanation to form. Looking at the fire, I quickly said the first thing that came to me.
“I am only allowed to tell one person—my husband—and only when I can no longer hide it from him.”
Why had I said that? It might make him think I intended to marry.
I touched his arm before continuing. “Do you remember that conversation we had where you told me of Catherine Howard’s death for treason against my father?”
He looked at my hand on his arm and then at the fire, his forehead scrunched up. A moment later he said, “I do not recall every aspect of the conversation, but I do recall you being highly upset by the information.”
I pulled on his arm so that he was facing me, and bent my head to catch his downcast eyes before I continued. “I am determined to honor what I said to you then. I have no wish to marry. I will never have a husband, I will not do it if I can help it.”
“You will tell no one?” Then his face flushed. “But I thought—” His gloriously vulnerable eyes flashed, and then looked away from me. “You would not even marry me?”
I knew that he was the only person in the world who could tempt me to forsake my resolution, but I did not want to forsake it, and I could not give him hope that I would someday change my mind. Better to deal with this situation now rather than later. In two short years, Robert would be old enough to marry and his father had already singled me out as the young lady for the job. My being reinstated in the succession was only a hiccup in his plan, for all John Dudley needed to do was distinguish himself a bit more to the king. Then his son, eldest or not, would be enough of a match for a princess third in line to the throne.
Yes, better now than later. I made my voice as loving as I could, but also firm. “I will not marry even you, Robert. Not if I have my way.” I quickly went on. “I love you as a brother, but if you ever did want me for a wife, you will change your mind after you hear this.” I waited until he looked up at me. “I do not want to have children. I will not bear a single soul out of this body, Robert Dudley. I will not do it, even if I have to die a virgin.” And I added regretfully to myself, “Though I do not think I will like celibacy very much.”
My body had been changing since I began my courses, inside as well as out. I was now thirteen and felt a strong urge for physical gratification. It was a constant struggle not to give in and touch that raging river of pleasure.
Even as I thought of it and looked at Robert in all his young beauty, I longed for him. I wanted to kiss him, and touch him, and mostly to have him touch me. Imagined scenes of us together bombarded me and I cursed myself for not having more control over my thoughts.
Instantly, my heart began to race, and I felt the beast of desire deep down inside me raise its lusty head. I involuntarily took half a step toward Robert, who seemed to sense what was happening inside me for he went suddenly rigid and I saw in his eyes what he probably saw in mine. Hunger. Young, vibrant, erotic hunger. I heard him start to breathe heavily. His eyes looked uncertain, but something in my face must have consoled him for he stepped even closer and his hand touched my waist, his eyes moving slowly over my face and stopping on my lips. I suddenly did not want him to be a novice like me; I wanted him to be like Thomas Seymour, to throw me onto a table and have his way with me. I wanted it so badly, my body ached, and it took every shred of my control not to attack him.
However, I wanted what could never be. Even as he slowly leaned toward me, I found strength somewhere and turned my head, taking him in a tight hug instead. I held onto him, tightly pressing myself against every part of him, noticing how he felt different, and closing my eyes to block out the thought. I would not do this. Not to Robert. As much as I wanted it, as much as my body craved it, nothing could happen between us. I had to gain control. It was what God required of me and it was what I had chosen for myself.
I surrounded myself with the power, and wisdom instantly told me that once I started down this path there could be but two endings: marriage or heartbreak. In the sane part of my mind, I knew I wanted neither.
Then I realized I had unknowingly tricked my way out of telling Robert anything, and though I knew he could see me for what I was now, hopefully once he left this room, the words would never have to be spoken. Pressing my advantage, I turned and whispered in his ear, “Robert, will you be a gentleman and leave me before…before things become…”
I purposely left it hanging as I gently pushed myself away from his embrace.
Being true to who he was, he looked at me a moment longer, breathed deeply as he took my hands in his, brought them to his lips then turned to leave. There was a fair amount of regret on his face.
When he reached the door, he turned around and said, “You know, it would not have mattered, Elizabeth. None of it. I see you, and that is all I will ever see.” There was a deep, quiet anger in his voice, an anger and a hurt that I knew was completely my fault. Then a strange softness touched the anger and his eyes grew watery. His hands tightened into fists and he concluded, “By the way, I have never seen you look more beautiful than you do right this minute, surrounded by light. You are as glorious as an angel.” With those words he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.
I sat with the morning sunbeams warming me through my window. Kat sat with me, but we did not talk. I was still feeling frustrated about all that had happened the night before. Frustrated that I had to fall into the silly pond and use my power right in front of Robert. Frustrated that, yet again, I had discovered another facet of my gift that I had no idea about. Questions plagued me. Why could Robert see my light now? Is this what had happened to my mother? Perhaps Father had seen her light and then she was never able to manipulate him again.
And I was fascinated. Fascinated at how Robert could let me off the hook so easily. If I were he, there was no way possible I would have left that room without some sort of explanation. It made me wonder at the trust he had in me that he would just take my words without argument. It was amazing. It also made me wonder if Robert might know more than I thought he did, which of course sent me back from fascination to frustration again, for how was it possible that Robert could know anything about my gift? My mind went in circles about what his easy acquiescence might mean.
It was so obvious that Robert wanted me as a wife and that he would not be angry with me for letting him down easy as I did it. That was just Robert. He was a gentleman. It was all my fault if he was hurt, for we had been joking about marrying one another for years.
My thoughts were interrupted by a tap at my door. When Blanche, my new lady-in-waiting, opened it, Katherine strode in. “I am sorry, my Lady Princess, to come unannounced and so early, but I have the most wonderful news which I could not wait to tell you.”
Katherine had stayed out of sight for several weeks following my father’s death and funeral. I had not even known she was still here. Though we were close, I would not have gone to her with my troubles on any account. The poor woman had just buried her third husband. She did not need to hear my small problems.
“My Lady Queen, it is so wonderful to see you.” I walked to her and, hugging her, said, “Now come, you need never feel uninvited. I am so happy that you are still here. What is your news?” I motioned to a pair of chairs and we sat down.
“I have just finished speaking with the council and they have consented to allow you to live with me. I shall be your guardian. Your father left me many houses, but I am planning on making Chelsea my home for now.” There was a little expectant hitch on the words for now and I wondered what it could mean. “You are going to come and live there with me. What do you have to say?”
> A small squeal of excitement escaped my lips and I leapt up.
“Kat, did you hear what my dear stepmother has come to tell me? I shall not go live with an evil lord who beats me and makes me take care of his children. I shall be living with the queen!” I grabbed Katherine’s hands excitedly and jumped a bit up and down. “Oooh, I am so pleased. I was so frightened that I had done some bad thing to Edward in our youth and he was keeping it secret until he was crowned so that he might punish me by taking away my inheritance, or making me live with someone awful, or heaven forbid both! And now you see all my worry was foolishness. I am to be supremely happy. How wonderful.”
Kat stepped in and said, “Most of what you do think is foolishness, girl—I mean, my Lady Princess. Sit yourself down and act like a lady. I am sure that the queen is not thinking of taking a four-year-old into her house. She is expecting a young woman with proper manners and the air of a princess. Am I mistaken, my Queen?”
Katherine laughed deeply, “I expect her to be what she is. I know Elizabeth. She gives herself to whatever she is about. Whether that be music, riding, or excited exclamations, she puts her heart and her young enthusiasm into it. I could not love her so dearly if she was not this way.” She sniffed and smoothed her black mourning gown. “Her father and I talked of this gift she has on many occasions. She was a light to him in his old age. He said her enthusiasm kept him young.” A small tear leaked out of her eye and I knelt before her, her hands still in mine.
“Did he really feel that way about me?”
She nodded with a smile brightening her face. Then she put fingertips to my cheek and stroked my hair, “You look so much like the man himself. I see his face in yours. I think you will be a great comfort to me in the next hard months.” And she squeezed my hand.
I left for Chelsea with Katherine and the Ashleys before the week was over, because now that Edward was crowned, women were not allowed to stay at court, not even the sisters of the king.
Robert did not come to me again. Though I sent him notes begging him to see me before I left, he did not come, and the tears that I cried as our carriage departed were not for the absence of court but for the absence of my best, most dear friend. God only knew when I would see him again. But when I did, I told myself, I would not speak to him. I would stick my nose in the air and walk the other way. That was when my tears became angry and fierce, for I knew I was lying only to myself.
Episode 3
April 1547
Windsor Castle, London
In April, I went to Windsor so that my likeness could be painted. Mary was there for the same purpose. I had done my best to avoid her, and yet. Her depression seemed deep, her face grim and grey. I worried for her, but I did not enjoy her company. Edward, on the other hand, I wanted to see and had not.
Kat had come with me, but Katherine had not, stating that she had business to attend to at home. It was just a brief visit, so I thought nothing of her bowing out.
The artist, William Scrots, was not well known, but I trusted he would do me honor in his portrayal, for he was ambitious, and an ambitious man will make use of the opportunities that are afforded him. This was his opportunity. Doing the likeness of a princess as she entered womanhood was no small thing. Many people would see this painting for years to come.
Likewise, said princess needed to make a statement with said painting.
I chose the setting, and as I assessed myself in the glass that was positioned to help me remain in the same attitude whilst standing for him, I knew that I had chosen correctly.
I stood in a lush, coral-patterned silk that went almost off my shoulders. The tightly fitted bodice showed how nicely my bosom was blossoming and it tapered to show off my small waist. The neckline was exactly proper in its lowness as it accentuated the one necklace I proudly wore: my mother’s pearls. I had switched the “B” pendant for an “E,” and the pearls seemed to make the cream color of my skin look more lustrous. My red hair was pulled tightly back and shrouded in a French hood, also a tribute to my mother, for she preferred the French style. In my visible hands, I held my black leather-bound Fillos journal, and I had placed a single finger inside to signify how important the book was to me. It was a frequent read.
Behind me on a stand, I had the other book that was of greatest import: the Bible. This signified how I knew God had a work for me to do and I would not forget it or leave my Lord unrepresented in this historic portrait. Also, behind me was a bed with curtains slightly open. I wanted to allude to my womanhood.
For years, adults had told me I was wise for a girl so young and that my manners were that of an adult (they of course never saw Robert and me together). But now I felt older. I looked more like a woman and I wanted to be treated as such. It seemed that without Robert around, I was finally able to grow up.
I had another reason for wanting to seem more like a woman. In the last month, Admiral Thomas Seymour, the man himself, the man with the hands and the very wicked way about him, had begun visiting Chelsea. At first, he just stopped by chance, though I thought it was to see Katherine, since I knew that she was in love with him, but soon I was sure it was not because of Katherine. The man would go into the house and talk with Katherine for a while, then he would search me out wherever I was and spend hours talking with me. And before long, he came daily and didn’t bother to see Katherine at all.
Perhaps it was I he wanted to woo. I, a girl that was twenty-five years his junior! At first, I did not know what to do about his attentions, for it did not take many such visits for my mind to start creating wild fantasies about him. I could not understand the pull the man had on me. But pull he did, ever so strongly.
As we walked in the garden, the tiniest brush of his hand left bumps on my skin. The smell of his skin as he moved past me to fetch a flower and put it in my hair made me swoon. His voice, as he told me stories of war and the sea, had me longing to be on a ship pulling the rigging for him, like any foolish ship rat. Just to obey his every command, just to have his startlingly dark eyes on me, watching me…the thought sent my heart racing. I could not keep my thoughts in check. He was amazingly handsome, though he had a few streaks of gray in his dark hair and beard. He was so lean and strong. And the man’s hands. I had seen what he could do with those hands, and my mind was ever replaying those images, though I was the one he was—
“My Lady Princess! My Lady Princess, are you alright?” The high voice of the artist interrupted my thoughts.
I looked at him with wonder. Why was he stopping?
“What?” I demanded.
The man turned his wide eyes back toward the door and then again to me. “Are you feeling alright, Princess? Your cheeks suddenly flushed, and you seemed to be fainting. I was just wondering if the long standing was affecting you.”
My cheeks did flush an even deeper scarlet then, as I could well see them in the mirror, but I shook my head vigorously. “No, no, I am quite alright. Pray, continue.”
After an assessing look in my direction, he picked up his brush once more and I chided myself again and again for letting my fancies take me.
I sat on a stone bench in the shade of a young pine admiring the visage, a small folded paper in my hand. The note was from Katherine stating all was well, but that Robert of all people had come to visit in Chelsea and, not finding me at home, was heading toward Windsor. Robert. After everything, he was coming to see me now? I could not think of Robert. The wound of leaving me without so much as a farewell had my heart hardened toward him, but also nervous that he might demand I tell him of my power.
I looked at the neat script of my stepmother and thought of how wonderful the last few months had been with her. She was dear and sweet to me and encouraged me in my studies as well as in my hobbies. I continued to join her for prayers and sometimes scripture study.
I did wonder if she was still in love with Thomas and felt horrid knowing that he might ask for my hand at any time. I also dreaded what I might answer to that question. I was sic
kened at the thought, but I began to feel that I needed him. I needed him as I needed a drink of water after a long, hard ride, or as I needed breakfast in the morning. It was a desperate need, one that felt akin to life or death. I did not know if I even liked Thomas. He was bold and brass and a complete rogue, besides being selfish, heathenistic, and callous.
Nevertheless I knew, now that I was away from him, how badly I wanted him. I wanted him with the carnal part of myself that I tried to keep under control. When I was with him I thought I might go crazy with yearning that shot up in me like hot, liquid fire. I no longer had blood in my body, only fire coursing through my veins, giving the beast of desire within me power to smite me helpless. All I could do at these times was pray to God that he would intervene on my behalf. My thoughts were increasingly dishonorable I didn’t know how much longer God would answer my call and give me strength. Then what would become of me?
Suddenly a voice I knew almost as well as my own whispered into my ear, and a lily the size of a plate was set in my lap by a hand I recognized. Robert must have chased down the courier, for the man had just placed this note in my hands. I knew it would not be long, with how Robert loved to gallop, but I was not expecting him so soon.
He looked tired and yet more beautiful than anything I had ever seen. All I needed were those deep, clear blue eyes filled with apology, as they were now, and I was weeping and hugging him. “Oh, Robert how I have missed you. Thank you for the lily. It smells wonderful. Lilies are one of my favorites,” I said and touched my leaking eyes.
“I know. That it is why I brought it to you. As you can attest, I am not normally so thoughtful, but it was easy when there was a man selling them right at the gate.” He smiled and wrapped my hand over his arm.
Elizabeth Tudor- Ancestry of Sorcery Page 19