The Last Howard Girl (Tudor Chronicles Book 3)

by Lesley Jepson

  ***

  Madam

  I have Crown business in Berkshire and I will break my journey with my cousin at Cumnor Place. I will be there the day after tomorrow. We shall discuss matters then.

  Robert, Lord Dudley

  ‘Tom, Tom Sadler,’ Robert looked out of the door of his apartment into the long gallery.

  ‘Yes, my Lord.’ Tom came running up, hat in hand and bowed to Robert. Cat had made sure that all the pages who served on the long gallery outside the royal apartments were the sons of families unquestionably loyal to Elizabeth. Tom beamed at Robert, looking remarkably like his mother; he had Meg’s soft light brown curls and smiling hazel eyes.

  ‘Take this message to Thomas Blount, lad. Tell him to remain where he takes it and I shall join him in a few days. Can you remember that?’ Tom nodded enthusiastically.

  ‘Can you also remember to tell him that if my cousin cannot accommodate him, there is enough coin for a bed at an inn while he waits for me.’ Robert handed the sealed letter to Tom, along with a leather pouch of money. ‘Put that inside your doublet, Tom, and speak to no-one on your way to find Thomas. Nobody must see the note.’

  Robert tossed Tom a silver coin and Tom grinned, hid the letter and the purse carefully then scampered off on his errand.

  ***

  Elizabeth gazed calmly round the Council chamber, compressing her lips to save them from the unconscious tug of her teeth and focussing on keeping her hands still, knuckles white while clasping the arms of the enormous brocade chair on the dais. She blew out her breath, then stood and looked out at the sea of faces, all clad in richly appointed robes. Elizabeth breathed in.

  ‘My Lords.’ The noise level subsided slightly, so Elizabeth raised her voice a little more, ‘My Lords.’

  Silence slowly fell over the chamber as the Lords looked towards the slender young Queen, standing still and straight in front of the throne which her father, then her brother and sister, had occupied. Elizabeth was clad in the magnificent cloth of gold gown she had worn for her coronation, and on her hand gleamed the coronation ring.

  Elizabeth breathed in again and began her speech in a firm voice.

  ‘My Lords, I come to you today as your Queen, to ask you to pass the Act of Uniformity. To show the English people that they should follow the English religion.’ An irritated murmur went round the hall, and Elizabeth swallowed hard before she continued.

  ‘You all well remember my father, my Lords, and my brother. They both worked vigorously to promote the understanding of the Bible by the people.’ Again a buzz of conversation threatened to overwhelm Elizabeth but she ignored it and paced the dais, pounding one small fist into the other. Her voice rose again as she turned towards them.

  ‘My Lords, my sister gifted England to Spain, and to Rome. I would deliver the English people from that fate. I would work tirelessly to promote the understanding of the word of God in every corner of my realm and …’

  ‘And when you marry? What about your husband?’ a comment was shouted from the back of the hall, but Elizabeth couldn’t see who had made it.

  ‘My Lords, you know well I have yet to marry,’ Elizabeth deliberately softened her expression and beamed round at the faces she could see, ‘Many Princes now seek my hand in marriage, and,’ she held her hand adorned with the coronation ring aloft , ‘my Privy Council are giving their careful consideration to their suit to the benefit of England. And of course, my Lords, when I do marry, I will be guided by my husband, as every married woman should be.’

  Elizabeth’s voice rose, and hardened again, ‘But I shall not offer this realm as my dowry. England will not be as a set of silver spoons or a jewelled cup, to be laid at the feet of my husband as a marriage portion. My father made sure this country was strong, and he led good Englishmen to vanquish all that threatened her sovereignty, be it the Scots,’ a grumble went round the room, ‘or the French,’ the grumbling got louder, with boos and hisses from every corner.

  Elizabeth took another deep breath and raised her voice even louder, ‘But until the time comes that a suitable husband for England is found, I must follow my own conscience, as you all must follow yours. I have no wish to put windows into men’s souls and we all agree there is only one God.’

  ‘I want my people, the people of England, towards whom I feel as a mother, there to guide and encourage them, to be able to worship God and be able to understand his teachings. I must ask you, my Lords, to vote for England, not Rome. For England, not France, or Spain. But for England.’

  ‘I must ask you all, good Englishmen as you are, to give England and the English people your vote. For my father King Henry, for my brother King Edward, for me, your Queen and for England’s Saint George, I ask for your vote.’

  Elizabeth sank back into the huge chair, smiling graciously round the chamber as the Lords banged with their fists on the table and called for England and Saint George. She caught the gleam of approval in Cecil’s eye as he nodded to her, and she brought her breathing back under control.

  ***

  Robert stood at the fireplace in the parlour at Cumnor Place and took a drink of his wine, looking across at Amy as she sat by the table in the window. His cousin had greeted him cordially, then allowed him privacy to speak to his wife. Robert knew Thomas was in the hall, just outside the door to ensure he wouldn’t be interrupted.

  ‘You have shamed me, my Lord.’ Amy’s voice was surprisingly strong.

  ‘I have? I married you to spare you shame, Amy.’ Robert suppressed a sigh at the direction the conversation had taken already.

  ‘You shame me still. Do you think I don’t know? Do you think I don’t hear the gossip from the maid servants?’ Amy’s voice had turned into a spiteful hiss. ‘I know what you do, my Lord. What you are.’

  Robert raised his brows and took a breath to ask what his wife meant, but her venomous hiss continued, ‘I know you are swiveing that Tudor whore. That you are her pet. Her mother was killed for being a whore and the daughter is no better. We have a protestant whore on the throne, and you’d rather swive her than be a proper husband to me.’

  ‘Amy, you must not speak of the Queen like that.’ Robert turned and placed his goblet on the corner of the mantelpiece and suddenly heard a crash and a scream behind him.

  As he turned back, Amy stood from the wreckage she had made of the wine tray and the overturned table, and launched herself at him screaming, hands outstretched, fingers clawed towards his eyes. She caught Robert’s cheek a glancing blow with her fingernails before he caught both her hands in his and Thomas burst into the room with his dagger drawn.

  Amy collapsed onto the floor, sobbing, as Robert kept hold of her hands and Thomas went to fetch Nell Pincto to help Amy. Nell came swiftly, and crouched down by Amy’s side on the floor, grey woollen gown spreading around her like the wings of a bird.

  ‘My Lady, my Lady,’ Nell’s soothing voice tried to penetrate Amy’s hysteria. ‘Calm yourself, my Lady. My Lord Robert has come to see you, and he wouldn’t want to see you so upset.’ Nell took Amy’s hands away from Robert’s firm grasp, and her eyes widened to see the blood under Amy’s long fingernails. She raised her eyes to Robert’s face and gasped to see the bloody scratch marks down his cheek, from the corner of his left eye to the start of his short beard.

  At Nell’s sharp breath, Robert took his kerchief and dabbed his burning cheek, nostrils flaring at the bloodstains on the cloth. Amy began to struggle in Nell’s grip and Robert took her wrists again in his own large hands, then looking at Nell, he asked, ‘Can you calm her, Nell? I can’t leave her while she is like this.’

  ‘I will bring her medicine, my Lord. That will settle her. But can you …..?’ Robert nodded at the maid, indicating that h
e was quite strong enough to hold Amy still while her medicine was brought. Thomas was by his side, and although he had sheathed his dagger, he still looked quite capable of protecting his master should Amy shake off Robert’s grip.

  Robert held both of Amy’s wrists in one hand, while he banded his other arm about her waist and carried her to the settle, where he sat down with Amy held firmly by his side. Her frantic screaming had subsided into wracking sobs, and she hid her face in Robert’s doublet although he did not relinquish his hold on her wrists.

  Thomas opened the door to allow Nell to enter, carrying a small pewter cup with Amy’s sleeping draught contained inside. Robert whispered Amy’s name and she raised her head, then Nell held the cup to her lips and she drank dutifully until it was all gone. Robert’s eyes met those of Nell, who nodded silently, and Robert felt the tension slowly ebb away from Amy’s body.

  ‘Thomas.’

  ‘My Lord,’ the manservant was by Robert’s side in an instant.

  ‘Carry my wife to her chamber, so Mistress Pincto may put her to bed.’ Robert let Amy’s wrists go, and she slumped against him. Thomas swept her up into his strong grasp and followed Nell as she led the way to Amy’s chamber. Robert sighed and dabbed at his cheek as he waited for his manservant to return. He turned over in his mind various explanations for his appearance that he might tell Elizabeth. He certainly wouldn’t be able to tell her the truth.

  ***

  ‘God’s blood, Robbie. What happened to your face?’ Elizabeth looked at Robert’s cheek, aghast at the marks there. Robert stepped forward and took Elizabeth’s hands in his own, brushing her knuckles with his lips.

  ‘Come over here, Bess. Where we might be more private.’ He led her to the window embrasure in her solar. Her ladies watched with wide eyes until Meg cleared her throat and nodded towards their embroidery. They bent their heads industriously, but Meg knew their ears were tuned to the conversation by the window.

  ‘Play us some music, maestro, if you please. Something lively.’ Meg’s gentle voice carried to the leader of the musicians in the corner, and they struck up their instruments and began to play music they had composed for dancing. Meg smothered a smile as she saw the ladies’ shoulders sag; they couldn’t hear anything from the window over the musical notes, so they began to tap their slippers in time instead. Elizabeth caught Meg’s eye and nodded her thanks, and Meg smiled.

  ‘Bess, you must not get angry or upset. Promise me.’ Robert kept his voice low, and Elizabeth immediately began to chew her lower lip in agitation.

  ‘What has happened, Robbie, which might anger or upset me?’ Her teeth tore harder at the skin on her lip, and Robert extended his finger to stop her.

  ‘No need for that Bess. But I want to tell you the truth, and I don’t want you to worry.’

  Robert had spent two days, while he inspected and bargained for horses, trying to think of a suitable lie to explain his scratched face; being thrown from a horse into brambles, entering a stable and startling a cat on a hay bale. Anything but the truth, but then he thought Elizabeth might appreciate his honesty, and he would retain his self-respect. He was an honourable man, he thought.

  ‘I have been to Berkshire to look at horses. I have brought several back with me, and will take delivery of a few more at the end of the week.’ Elizabeth nodded, knowing he had been on Crown business.

  ‘But I had to interrupt my journey at the home of my cousin, and I saw Amy.’ Elizabeth’s spine straightened as she heard his wife’s name. He tightened his grip on her fingers and brought them again to his lips, breathing on her knuckles and kissing her fingers until he heard her release the sharp breath she had taken. He looked up and met her eyes.

  ‘Amy attacked me, Bess. She is not in her right mind very often these days, her maid tells me. She was having a bad day, and my presence made her upset herself even more than usual.’ Robert could feel Elizabeth trembling under his fingers, and again her lip was between her teeth.

  ‘I left some money for more medication, and for her to stay with my cousin while she is so unwell.’ Elizabeth took another sharp breath and tried to stand, but Robert pulled her hands and made her stay seated.

  ‘You swore to me that you wouldn’t see her,’ hissed Elizabeth. ‘You swore.’

  ‘You asked me to swear that I wouldn’t tell you if I saw her, Bess,’ he responded patiently, ‘and had she not done this,’ he indicated the scratches on his face, ‘then you wouldn’t have known. I don’t see her, Bess, not at all. God knows, I am with you every day and night. If I am not by your side, then I am serving you elsewhere in whichever palace we find ourselves. You well know I am only a summons away.’

  He smoothed her lip with his fingertip, loosening it from her teeth, then looking at the blood on the tip. He put his finger in his mouth and sucked her blood away. Elizabeth’s eyes widened and she gasped at the open eroticism of the gesture. She looked at the knot of ladies busily stitching under Meg’s supervision and angled her body so they could not see what he did.

  ‘Oh Robbie,’ she breathed. ‘I have missed you so.’

  ‘And I have missed you, my love. This makes no difference to us. I pay for her to live elsewhere so I can live with you here. That is how it shall continue. I will not let her come between us. You know my love and loyalty belong to you alone.’

  He kissed Elizabeth’s hands again and stood, bringing Elizabeth up with him. He raised his voice to a conversational level; it mattered not who heard now he had confessed his transgression and been forgiven. He would look forward to ensuring his forgiveness that night.

  ‘Let us ask Lady Sadler for some of her famous salve for your poor lips, and perhaps it will help these cat scratches of mine.’ He led Elizabeth to her seat with her ladies and bowed to Meg.

  ‘Of course, my Lord.’ Meg stood and curtseyed. ‘There is a pot on the Queen’s dresser in her privy chamber. I shall bring it at once,’ and Meg swept from the room towards Elizabeth’s bedchamber, leaving Robert helping Elizabeth hold a fine lawn kerchief to her injured lip and telling her all about the wonderful horses he had purchased on her behalf.

  Chapter 23

  eclining against the pillows with her baby in her arms, Meg looked at Cat gratefully. ‘Thank you for yesterday, Cat. For being with me this time.’ Meg winced slightly as her new daughter latched onto her nipple, and smiled across at her friend as she cuddled her own baby son.

  ‘Did you have the same midwife when you birthed your twins?’ asked Cat, gently rocking her child. Meg nodded and her mouth quirked downwards.

  ‘Hmmph! Useless old crone. I’m surprised you are still here,’ Cat muttered darkly, gazing at her own baby and smiling at the grunts and snuffles coming from Meg’s daughter Jane. ‘But I was glad to come, Meg. The Princess was happy for me to help you, and it means I get to see my own little ones for a while.’ Cat lifted her head and looked across at Meg, propped up in the enormous bed feeding her daughter.

  ‘You are pleased to be home, Meg? Away from court?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh yes, Cat. I didn’t mind at all, taking your place while you were away having Richard,’ Meg nodded at the baby snuffling on Cat’s shoulder as she rubbed his back. Cat had taken her son straight from the wet-nurse so she could wind him herself and enjoy holding him for a while. ‘But I am more suited to being here, looking after our children than at court with all the lies and intrigue.’ She winced again as she changed sides with little Jane and she latched once more, sucking greedily.

  ‘Will you be up and about for the wedding, Meg?’ Cat raised her brows in question. ‘I know Lettice would like you to be there, and it will give you another chance to wear that beautiful gown you had for the coronation.’

  ‘I wouldn’t miss it, Cat. Imagine, Lettice
being the Countess of Essex at seventeen.’ Meg’s eyes were wide at the thought of the little girl she had delivered being raised so high.

  ‘Hmmph!’ Cat narrowed her eyes at her friend. ‘She might be a Countess, but she’s got no sense. We brought the wedding forward to 23rd April, on the feast of Saint George and before the May Day joust, just so she might stop flirting with the men of the court, and settle with her husband.’

  ‘She is very young, Cat,’ said Meg kindly, ‘I’m sure she will grow out of it, when she is married to a handsome man of her own.’

  ‘I do hope so, Meg. One day she will flirt with the wrong man, and get herself into a great deal of trouble. And how I will handle her father if that should happen, the Lord knows.’

  ‘Francis and his piety seem to have narrowed since your return from Germany, Cat. Were those countries such an influence, then?’

  ‘He is espousing Puritanism, Meg. He is becoming decidedly …. moral in his outlook. He is still a kind father and husband, but I find his faith very strict and suspicious of the more pleasurable aspects of life. And speaking of pleasure, shall I pass you one of these delicious honeyed sweetmeats? I’m sure they’d help improve your milk to feed Jane.’ Cat burst into laughter, then swiftly smothered her giggles so she didn’t disturb the babies.

  ***

  Meg stood in the centre of the room, in front of the looking glass while Cat’s maid helped her into her gown. She looked across at Ralph, who was sat on the window seat in the corner, sipping a mug of ale and eating some bread and honey with an amused look on his face.

  They had travelled to Rotherfield Greys for Lettice’s wedding on the previous day, having had to wait until Meg had been churched following the birth of Jane. They were only staying a couple of nights, as Meg wanted to get home to her younger children. It was only because she had promised Cat she would come that she had been persuaded to leave her new-born daughter in the care of a very competent wet-nurse.