***
Elizabeth woke suddenly in the unfamiliar room and gazed through the narrow window as the first streaks of dawn stretched pink and grey fingers across the dark sky. Her eyes slid from the window and looked round the chamber as she stretched her arms out in the wide bed and remembered where she was. Her nostrils twitched as she smelled the scratchy scent of new fabric combined with newly sawn wood. The brand new hangings on the walls were pattered with scrolls of burgundy and gold, and the glisten of gold thread caught the first rays of the sun peering through the wisps of cloud. The same pattern had been used for the curtains and coverlet on the brand new bed, which was the source of the tangy smell of new wood. Elizabeth smothered a sneeze so her attendants wouldn’t realise quite yet that she was awake and come in to get her dressed for the coronation.
Pulling a thick cream brocade robe over her lawn night gown, Elizabeth slid icy cold feet in her slippers and padded softly to the window to look out over the river at the city as it awoke. She smiled to herself as she remembered the fuss she had caused by refusing to spend her night in the Royal Apartments. There were plenty of apartments in the Tower, and she had insisted that a different apartment was prepared for her, hence the new bed and hangings. Elizabeth had no wish to spend even one night in the room where she had been held prisoner by Mary, and the thought of spending the night before her coronation in the room where her mother had waited for her death, and to descend the same stair, was more than she could bear. She had insisted on a suite of rooms in a different wing of the Tower, lower down so Cat didn’t have to climb hundreds of stone stairs to reach her room.
Elizabeth could hear her ladies in the outer chamber whispering, speaking to the guards Robbie had insisted on placing outside the door to her bedchamber in addition to those guarding the outer door to the suite. She smiled to herself at the surprise she had prepared for Robbie that night; her steward was under instructions to pack up and move the entire contents of Robbie’s apartment as soon as the parade began, and take them to the Consort’s suite adjoining hers. She would tell him at the feast after her coronation. Elizabeth finally gave in to a relentless sneeze and suddenly a brisk rap came on the door and Cat entered, with many of her ladies following, all carrying an item she must wear today.
‘You are already awake, Princess.’ Cat moved further into her room and Elizabeth saw someone in bronze velvet behind Cat’s broad figure sink to the floor in a curtsey.
Elizabeth moved forward with a delighted smile, ‘Meg! Lady Sadler. How wonderful to see you on this day.’ Elizabeth raised Meg from her curtsey and kissed her cheek.
‘Princess, I mean Majesty,’ stammered Meg, overwhelmed with being kissed by the Queen.
‘Princess,’ said Elizabeth, smiling and pressing Meg’s fingers firmly. Meg nodded.
‘So, my lovely. Let’s get you ready,’ Cat’s brisk voice from the seat by the window galvanised the ladies in waiting and Elizabeth submitted herself to their ministrations, being dressed in her finely embroidered shift and petticoats, then her cloth of gold gown and her train attached to the shoulders. She would also have a mantle to wear over all that, and would wear her hair loose round her shoulders, held back by a golden filet before it was replaced by the crown in Westminster Abbey.
Elizabeth asked Meg to brush out her hair, and Cat placed the filet on her head.
‘I did not expect you to be able to persuade Meg to be here, Cat,’ said Elizabeth quietly.
‘I have asked her to take my place when I leave to have my child, Princess. I thought in my absence you would need someone else you could trust with your key.’
Elizabeth’s eyes met Meg’s through the looking glass and Meg nodded slightly.
‘This child is not due until April, Princess.’ Meg indicated her own belly, only slightly showing under the velvet of her gown. ‘I am sure Cat will have returned by then.’ Cat snorted a laugh.
‘I will be back by the end of February, Princess. Or the first week of March at the latest.’ Cat rubbed her enormous belly and smiled. ‘But I am grateful for the litter today, and the lack of stairs. I would not want the delivery of a babe to interrupt your coronation.’
Elizabeth looked stricken until she saw that both Cat and Meg were suppressing their giggles. She smiled at them both, relief apparent on her face, and stood. Her ladies hastened forward to lift the heavy train and mantle so that Elizabeth could walk forwards to the staircase that would lead to the forecourt of the Tower where the parade would begin.
The young Queen descended the stair and passed through the doorway into the bright winter sunshine, where Robert waited holding the bridle of the caparisoned white palfrey.
‘You look stunning, Your Majesty,’ he said, bowing as far as he could whilst still holding the horse. He passed the reins to a squire and stepped forward, taking Elizabeth’s hands in his own and kissing her knuckles gently.
‘You are beautiful, Bess,’ he whispered.
‘Beautiful for you, Robbie,’ Elizabeth replied softly. Then she raised her head and looked round the courtyard. ‘I shall ride the horse, Lord Robert. I want the people to see me on the way to the Abbey. I shall return in the litter afterwards, as I may be tired and the crown will be heavy.’ She squeezed his fingers firmly then allowed him to help her mount the palfrey. Cat moved forward and arranged her skirt as Meg laid the mantle across the horse’s rear and made sure Elizabeth’s hair was comfortable under the filet.
Robert assisted Cat into the litter, with Meg at her side then mounted his own horse and took the reins from Elizabeth to lead her slowly out of the Tower yard towards the Abbey and her coronation.
***
As Elizabeth sat at the centre of Westminster Abbey, holding the sceptre and orb of state, and being anointed with Holy Oil by the Archbishop of Carlisle she felt the huge spiritual weight of the office of Queen on her shoulders. In her heart she knew she was doing the right thing by refusing to take a husband. She was married to her country; her people were her children, and with Robert by her side, she could weather any storm. Elizabeth lifted her chin as the Archbishop intoned the blessing and as the choir began the Te Deum, she rose from her throne and began the long walk back to the door of the Abbey, to see the assembled populace and ride in the litter back to the palace. She had been right, she thought, the crown was exceptionally heavy.
***
Meg’s eyes were huge as she looked round the great hall at all the lords and ladies seated at the enormous tables and feasting on the grand dishes coming endlessly from the kitchen. She had smiled her thanks to Cat, seated at the Royal table with Elizabeth, Robert and her husband Francis among the other nobles, who had sent a dish of roast beef for her and Ralph to share, as well as a bowl of sugared plums and a plate of marchpane animals. The other grand dishes, roast peacock with the tail reattached in a beautiful display, a swan with the wings displayed at full stretch, and a suckling pig and rack of lamb had been tasted by the Royal table, with Robert cutting slices with his own dagger and then feeding them to Elizabeth. Meg thought they looked very much in love.
‘How do you find being back at court, my Meg?’ asked Ralph as he finished eating his beef and selected a sugared plum from the bowl.
‘Bewildering, Ralph,’ she replied, gazing around the room as the servants began to clear the food from the centre in preparation for the dancing. ‘I don’t know who to trust. I have been away so long, everyone is different.’
‘You trust me, my love. And you know your way to my office, in every palace.’ His brows rose and he smiled as he remembered how they had met, when Meg brought messages to Master Cromwell. She swatted his arm with a gentle hand as he wiggled his brows at her suggestively.
‘Send young Tom with a message if you can’t come yourself. Your only job will be to k
eep the Queen safe from scandal.’ His mouth quirked slightly as he nodded towards the top table where Elizabeth was giggling at something Robert was whispering in her ear, lips almost brushing her neck in a kiss as he sat back, watching her mirth with his own dancing eyes.
‘Do as Cat has asked you, my love. Help her with her shift and petticoats, and make sure there is no visible evidence in her bed,’ he took a mouthful of wine to rinse the taste of sugar from his mouth, ‘before her other ladies enter her chamber to get her dressed. And it won’t be for long, only until Cat returns. Then you can go back to our children, and wait for our new one,’ Ralph saluted Meg’s belly with his goblet.
Meg watched the throng as the dancing began, Elizabeth and Robert at the front leading the galliard. All the young people of the court lined up behind the young Queen, including Robert’s sister Katherine and her husband Henry Hastings and Lettice Knollys and her betrothed Walter Devereaux. Meg tapped her foot in time to the music that the musicians played, but shook her head when Ralph asked if she wanted to dance. She had never learned the courtly dances of the nobility; her youth had been spent in service to the Boleyns and the only dances she knew were the country dances she had learnt during her girlhood at Blickling in Norfolk.
The dances changed, as did the partners, and time passed pleasantly. Meg looked across to smile at Cat, still seated because of her bulk at the top table, and saw the shadow passing over her friend’s face. Cat began to try and lever herself up from her seat, and Meg followed Cat’s line of vision.
‘One moment, Ralph,’ Meg interrupted her husband’s tale of who was who in the great hall. ‘I need to speak to Lettice.’ Meg rose smoothly and looked across at Cat, who had seen her rise and had sat back down again.
Meg caught hold of Lettice’s hand and drew her into an alcove, away from the knot of young noblemen she had been in conversation with.
‘Lettice, sweetheart. Let me look at your wonderful gown. In all the excitement I haven’t had a chance to see you.’ Meg stretched the young girl’s hands apart and looked at the beautifully embroidery and jewels Lettice had on her apple green satin gown, a perfect complement to her copper curls.
‘Oh, Aunt Meg. Isn’t it wonderful? So exciting, with the gowns and the jewels, and all the dancing? You must have attended so many occasions like this when you were at court with my Lady Mother.’ Lettice was breathless in her excitement.
‘Your mother served four queens, Lettice, but none of them were crowned. And I stayed behind the scenes and looked after your mother and the Princess.’ Meg tried to speak kindly to the girl, but Lettice just nodded absently, her eyes roaming the room and smiling coquettishly at some of the young men whose gaze she caught. Meg sighed impatiently and took Lettice’s hand again, pulling her round so that her back was to the room.
‘Lettice,’ Meg shook the girl’s hand to emphasise the importance of her words and Lettice met her eyes, ‘I wanted to speak to you quietly, to warn you that your behaviour is being observed.’ Lettice raised a quizzical eyebrow at Meg’s words.
‘Your father almost left his conversation with Walsingham and the Archbishop to speak with you, and your mother is directing dark looks from the top table,’ Meg nodded at Lettice, who slid her eyes to look at her mother and quickly slid them away again.
‘You are betrothed to Walter Deveraux, Lettice. It is an excellent match, and one day you will be the Countess of Essex. You do like Walter, don’t you?’ Meg’s eyebrows raised in question.
‘Yes, Aunt Meg. I like him well enough. He’s tall, and good looking, and pleasant company, and kind to me,’ Lettice bounced on her toes in excitement at being betrothed to such a personable young man, and at the thought of being a Countess. Then she wrinkled her nose at Meg and lowered her voice, ‘But I wish he didn’t always tell me what his mother would think,’ she sighed.
‘Then your attentions must be with him, child. Not flirting with the other gentlemen of the court,’ Lettice’s face fell as Meg continued, ‘and never, ever with Lord Robert.’
Lettice looked at Meg directly in the eye, and raised her chin, ‘He thinks I’m pretty.’
‘You are, sweetheart. But you are also the image of the Queen. Of course he thinks you’re pretty.’
‘But I am younger, Aunt Meg,’ the girl said slyly, sliding her eyes away from Meg and back to the dancers.
Meg smothered a sigh and tried to remind herself that Lettice was only seventeen and full of the joy of being young and pretty in a youthful court.
‘Yes, Lettice. You are indeed younger. But you must grow up quickly if you are at court. You wouldn’t want to be banished for indiscreet behaviour, would you? If you upset the Queen, she could banish you.’ Lettice gasped in horror at the thought of missing all the excitement court had to offer.
‘No, Aunt. I would hate that. I promise to be good. I promise to only flirt with Walter,’ Lettice giggled, then shrugged her shoulders, ‘but could you ask my Lady Mother to bring forward my wedding, Aunt Meg? I don’t know how much longer I can be good.’
Meg blinked in astonishment at the young girl’s words as she laughed over her shoulder and danced away to catch the arm of her betrothed and lead him into another dance.
***
‘Robbie, thank you for such a wonderful day today. The parade, the crowds, the soldiery. Truly wonderful.’ Elizabeth turned to Robert at the door to her privy chamber where he had escorted her after the dancing and feasting had ended.
‘Anything for you, my love.’ Robert brought Elizabeth’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them softly.
‘Everything has been perfect, Robbie,’ Elizabeth closed her eyes and caught her breath as Robert kissed the backs of her hands and then the pads of her fingers. ‘But what would make it even more perfect would be if I could spend this night with you.’ Robert looked up sharply and met Elizabeth’s excited eyes.
‘Robbie,’ she whispered, and he bent his head and put his forehead against hers so he could hear her words, ‘I have had your things moved into the adjoining apartments, my love. They connect by the enclosed passage so no-one will see you come to me, and only Cat will have the key to the main door here. We can be quite private, Robbie.’
‘Then let us be private, my love. Let us make a private end to this very public day,’ and he swept her up in her cloth of gold gown and carried her into her chamber, taking care to lock the door and pull the hanging across before he joined her on the huge bed.
Chapter 22
obert, My Lord Husband
You must come to me here. I am ill. I am ill and you must come. I need more medicine and you must bring funds. Do not send your steward. You must come.
Your wife, Amy Dudley
Robert read the note again, then handed it to Thomas who was standing impassively as always, hand on the hilt of his dagger, waiting for further instructions. Thomas scanned the few words with his ice blue eyes and wordlessly handed the parchment back to Robert.
‘The tone is changing, Thomas. Becoming imperious. Becoming difficult.’ Robert sighed as he looked down at the paper in his hand. ‘There might be problems ahead, Thomas,’ he said as he glanced at his steward.
‘Indeed, my Lord.’
Robert put the parchment in the fire and suddenly the door to his apartment burst open and Elizabeth flew into the room.
‘Oh Robbie, you have to come. You just have to see ……’ Her words trailed away as she saw Thomas waiting for orders.
‘Majesty,’ he bowed.
Elizabeth nodded and looked at the fire blazing up as the thick parchment finally caught alight.
‘A message that needs burning, Robbie?’ Elizabeth laughed softly, but had a questioning look in her eyes. Robert shrugged and gave a sho
rt laugh.
‘Nothing important, Bess. A message from a horse breeder I have been in contact with. I want some better horses for your stables, especially before the May Day joust. If I don’t go and see them soon, we won’t have time to get them trained to the lists in time for the tourney.’ He was astonished how easily the lies came to his tongue. ‘I shall be gone no more than four days, my love.’ He moved towards her and realised Thomas was still in the room.
‘Thank you, Thomas. I shall send a reply later.’
Thomas bowed again. ‘Majesty. My Lord,’ and left the room through the gallery door, his sword in its leather scabbard slapping at the top of his boots.
‘I don’t like him, Robbie. His eyes are so cold.’ Elizabeth gave a shudder.
‘He is a good servant, Bess. His loyalty to me, and therefore to you, is unquestionable.’
‘He still makes me shiver,’ she said, taking Robert’s hands. ‘You must leave soon, Robbie?’
‘Only if you can spare me, my love,’ he replied, kissing her knuckles and bringing her closer to his body. Elizabeth sighed contentedly and, reaching up, put her arms round Robert’s neck so he had to dip his head and meet her forehead with his own.
‘I will be in Council, Robbie. I intend them to pass the Acts of Uniformity and Supremacy as soon as they are able, and repeal all those heresy laws that Spaniard made Mary pass.’ Robbie hid a smile at the venom with which Elizabeth invariably referred to her sister’s husband.
‘Will Cecil has many of the council our side, so he says the vote might not be too close, but he still wants me to make a speech,’ she pulled her head back slightly so he could see her pout, ‘but I imagine I can spare you for a few days, Robbie. But not for too long.’
He kissed her pouting lower lip gently and put his hand on her cheek. She nestled her face into his hand then placed a kiss in his palm.
‘I shall return as soon as I am able, Bess. I swear I won’t be away from you for long.’
The Last Howard Girl (Tudor Chronicles Book 3) Page 14