The Last Howard Girl (Tudor Chronicles Book 3)

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The Last Howard Girl (Tudor Chronicles Book 3) Page 31

by Lesley Jepson


  Robert sighed and stretched again; folding his arms behind his head and feeling pleased that his day needn’t start until just before the noon meal; while Elizabeth’s ladies dressed her as Queen he could have an hour or so to himself to gather his thoughts.

  A light tap on his chamber door brought him out of his reverie, and he heard Thomas mutter a terse, ‘My Lord,’ as he entered Robert’s room.

  ‘Thomas?’ Robert was surprised to see his manservant enter from the antechamber; he was usually in the corridor.

  ‘You have a visitor, my Lord. The Countess wishes to see you.’ Robert could see no information in the ice-blue eyes of his servant.

  ‘Ask her to give me a moment, Thomas. I am not yet dressed.’ Robert threw the sheet back and snatched up his soft leather working breeches and a clean silk shirt.

  ‘My Lord,’ Thomas bowed, then looked at Robert impassively. Robert looked up from tying the laces on his shirt and raised his brows. ‘Yes Thomas?’

  ‘The Countess is hooded, my Lord. No-one saw her arrive, everyone is still abed.’

  ‘Thank you, Thomas.’ Robert fastened his belt and made sure his dagger was in place, then strode into the ante-room where Lettice was standing with her back to the window. As Thomas had said, she was indeed hooded, shrouded in a moss-green cloak that covered her completely.

  ‘Thomas, would you go to the kitchen and ask your friend for some bread and cheese and small ale? I’m sure the Countess hasn’t yet broken her fast, and I am hungry this morning.’

  ‘My Lord.’ Thomas bowed his head to Robert and went towards the door. Lettice put out her hand and touched his arm before he left the room, smiling at him and nodding her own thanks.

  ‘Thank you, Thomas,’ she said softly, ‘you have been very kind to disturb Lord Robert for me, and to bring me some refreshment.’

  Thomas’ eyes widened in astonishment at being thanked in such a manner, and he bobbed his head in confusion. ‘My … my lady,’ he managed to croak before he left.

  Robert laughed. ‘He’ll not recover from that, Lily. He is used to being feared or disliked, but not thanked in such a gentle manner.’ He walked across to her and took her hands in his own, pressing kisses on her knuckles, then he raised his eyes.

  ‘God’s blood, Lily! What happened? Who did this?’ He raised his hands and lifted her hood away from her face. Her lip was split and swollen, and there was a bruise high on her cheekbone beside her eye. As she looked back at him, her eyes filled with tears that she did her best to blink away.

  ‘I have come to tell you I am unable to attend the celebration today, Robin. I didn’t want you to think I have avoided you on purpose, but as you see, I cannot come.’ Lettice lowered her eyes and twisted her fingers together as Robert put one finger on her face and moved her head so he could see the bruises better in the light.

  She continued ‘I have sent a note to Kit to ask her to tell my mother I am unwell and have gone to Aunt Meg’s for a few days. She will be busy with the Queen, so she won’t worry.’

  ‘But I shall worry, my love.’ Robert unfastened the clasp of Lettice’s cloak, then led her to the large chair in front of the fireplace. He sat down and brought her into his lap, cradling her in his arms and touching his forehead to hers. ‘Tell me what happened.’ He spoke gently and pushed down his anger at the damage to her face.

  ‘Walter has returned from Ireland changed, Robin. He is different. Harder, less deferential, more cruel.’ She took a shuddering breath and held it for a moment before she spoke again. ‘I have been a …. receptacle …. for him since he returned, little more than that.’ She stopped again as tears clogged her throat, and Robert pressed a kiss to her forehead and rocked her gently until she could continue.

  ‘Then last night he …. he wanted me …. a different way. I refused, so he struck me, and took me anyway.’ Lettice began to weep quietly into Robert’s shoulder and he closed his eyes against the rising tide of fury he felt.

  A tap at the door heralded Thomas returning with a tray of bread, cheese, fruit and ale, which he placed on the side table. His eyes took in how distressed Lettice was, and he simply met Robert’s eyes and nodded once. Robert nodded back and Thomas checked the bolt was across on the door to the corridor before leaving by the door to the antechamber, closing it quietly behind him. Robert heard the gentle slap of the scabbard on the other side of the door and knew that Thomas stood against it; they would not be disturbed.

  ‘He won’t get away with this, Lily. I swear it.’ Robert spoke softly, but there was a hint of rage in his voice.

  ‘He has gone, Robin. He has gone to see his mother before he returns to Ireland. I pray the war there lasts forever.’ More tears fell from Lettice’s eyes and she pressed her kerchief against her injured lips to try and still their tremble.

  ‘I shall ask Thomas to take you to Lady Sadler’s, my love. You can use one of the closed carriages in the stables. Are your things packed?’ Lettice nodded onto his shoulder, small fingers pulling one of the ties of his shirt open and sliding her hand against the soft skin of his chest. He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath of his own, pushing back the wave of desire that threatened to overwhelm him. She needed his strength today, he thought, not his passion.

  ‘Then try and eat something, soft bread perhaps, while you are here. Then we can send you to Lady Sadler. I have no doubt she will take care of you while you recover.’

  Lettice moved her lips to his ear, while she traced circles on his skin. ‘I shall try and recover quickly, Robin. For you.’ She sat up in his embrace and then stood, walking to the tray. Lettice spread some soft butter on a warm roll and broke a piece off to put in Robert’s mouth, then she poured them both a drink.

  ‘I don’t think I can eat, Robin, but you must. The magnificent crescendo of your celebration is today,’ her face fell again, ‘and I am sorry I must miss it. But I couldn’t bear to explain to anyone about ….’ The tears came again and she hid her face in her hands. Robert strode over to her and took her in his arms.

  ‘Try not to cry, my love. He is gone, and I swear to you, he will not do this again. Go to your Aunt Meg, and I will see you soon. I promise.’ He held her until she was calm, then picked up her cloak and placed it round her shoulders, fastening the clasp and raising the hood.

  ‘Go with Thomas to the stables. I will have your bag brought down and then you can go to your Aunt Meg.’ Lettice nodded at him, keeping her head down and her eyes hidden. Robert opened the door and spoke to Thomas, who nodded once and then followed Lettice down the gallery to the stairs.

  Robert closed his chamber door and poured himself a large drink of ale. Everything in him wanted to hurl the jug and goblets into the fire, then leap on his horse and chase after Walter with his sword drawn and his dagger in his hand. He sighed. He knew he would solve the problem, with the help of Thomas as always, he just had to think of a way. Robert turned the problem over in his mind for a time, then swallowed the rest of his drink and stood to get changed.

  It was the finale to three weeks of festivities, and the Queen mustn’t be kept waiting. He pushed his wrath to the back of his mind, until he could speak to Thomas and come up with a solution.

  ***

  Meg gently spread some of her chamomile salve on Lettice’s damaged lip, and dabbed a little arnica on her bruised cheek.

  ‘Does that feel better, sweetheart?’ Meg looked anxiously at Lettice, who nodded sadly and brushed another tear away with her kerchief.

  ‘I’m so sorry Aunt Meg, but I didn’t know where else to go. I couldn’t tell Mother, today of all days, and I couldn’t show my face at court, looking like this.’

  ‘You should be nowhere else, sweetheart. This is your home as well, and you know I love
you as my own daughter.’ Meg squeezed Lettice’s hand. ‘You can stay here as long as you need, to spend time with your son and your girls.’

  Lettice smiled her gratitude. ‘I shall stay a few days, Aunt. But I must go on the progress, so I will have to be back at court within the week.’ Meg nodded her understanding.

  ‘Do you want to tell me about it, sweetheart? Did Walter find out about you and ….?’

  ‘No, Aunt. He did this for his own pleasure. Nothing to do with ….anyone else.’

  ‘I did not think this of Walter, Lettice. I thought him a better man.’

  ‘He was, Aunt Meg. Before he went to Ireland, he was better. At least, he was kinder. But there was no kindness in him last night. None. The wine allowed him to be cruel, and my cries just made him …. worse!’ Lettice began crying in earnest, small shuddering gasping sobs as she remembered. Meg wiped her own eyes surreptitiously, not wanting Lettice to see how her obvious distress upset her.

  ‘When you are calmer, sweetheart, we can go and see your boy. Thea will be in the nursery too, and when the lessons are finished, Nell, Jane and Dickon can join us for the noon meal.’ Lettice nodded and tried to push her sorrow away.

  ‘That would be lovely, Aunt. I have missed them all. The celebrations have been so busy, no-one has had chance to get away.’

  ‘You will have to tell me all about it, Lettice. I never want to actually go to court, but I do enjoy hearing about all the gowns and jewels. Ralph never notices the important things; he’ll tell me about treaties and ambassadors, but he’ll have no idea what the Countess of Derby was wearing.’ Lettice laughed, a sound that made Meg’s heart rise a little.

  ‘She should have a care to her age, Aunt Meg. You will never guess how low her gown was for the banquet on our last evening at Richmond.’ Meg smiled as Lettice took a deep breath to tell her all about the unsuitability of the poor Countess’ gown.

  ***

  Robert heard the slap of a scabbard on boots as Thomas walked across the floor of the anteroom towards his bedchamber, and he snatched the door open quickly.

  ‘Thomas, a word.’ Robert turned and continued to fasten the doublet he was wearing to the celebration, black watered silk slashed with silver and white, and on each morsel of white visible through the slashing was embroidered a tiny flag of St George. He knew Elizabeth’s silver and white gown was embroidered with the same, and she had small black accents to set off the silver. She always held to her vow never to wear black, but he didn’t feel comfortable wearing white, so this was an attractive compromise. They would both cheer for England in the mock sea battle to come and both display the flag of England’s patron saint.

  ‘My Lord,’ Thomas nodded his usual bow.

  ‘The Countess was delivered safely to Sutton House?’ Robert knew he didn’t have to ask.

  ‘Indeed, my Lord. And Lady Sadler came down to her immediately.’ Robert nodded.

  ‘Thank you, my friend. I value your loyalty, Thomas. I should probably tell you that more often.’ Robert chuckled at the incredulous look on his manservant’s face.

  ‘My Lord. You and your family lost much to the reign of the last Queen. Yet your sister-in-law took care of my mother and sister, when she could have cast them out. And when your brother was released from the Tower, he still allowed them to serve him.’

  ‘You served me whilst I was in the Tower, Thomas. I had no way to reward you then, but you still stayed.’

  ‘You have rewarded me since, my Lord. I wish to serve no other.’

  ‘Thank you Thomas. That means a great deal.’ Robert thought for a moment. ‘Did you see the Countess’ face, Thomas?’

  ‘I did, my Lord.’

  ‘I would have vengeance for that, Thomas.’

  ‘And I would help you, my Lord. Willingly.’

  ‘Her husband is on his way to Ireland, Thomas,’ sighed Robert, ‘calling upon his mother before he boards his ship.’

  ‘He could be set upon by footpads, my Lord. The roads are dangerous. He could fall overboard while on the ship. Storms are treacherous.’ Robert snorted his laughter at the suggestions.

  ‘It would be better if he died in Ireland, Thomas. Far from here, where no-one could be accused of a plot.’

  ‘Then we might have to be more subtle, my Lord. I hear the bloody flux is rife amongst the troops? Perhaps if he developed a similar illness, it could be thought the same as that which the men suffer?’

  Robert looked askance at Thomas. ‘Could that be achieved, Thomas?’

  ‘Is there something only he would use, my Lord? Something he wouldn’t share with anyone else? Something personal?’

  ‘Now you come to mention it, Thomas, there might well be something in his baggage. After he has visited his mother, he might have something very personal. That he wouldn’t share with anyone.’

  ‘Tell me, my Lord.’

  Chapter 44

  lizabeth, clad only in her shift, stretched out at Robert’s side on her huge bed and stifled a yawn.

  ‘Oh, Robbie, I have missed this. Missed you.’ She snuggled into his shoulder and yawned again. ‘I have loved every minute of your celebrations, but I am so pleased to be back here, with you like this. Today to ourselves, tomorrow the Sabbath and then a week of council meetings until the progress starts.’

  ‘An extra day of rest for you, my love.’

  ‘I had no idea that being happy could be so exhausting,’ she breathed, smothering another yawn. Robert’s hand swept up her leg.

  ‘Really? I must have been remiss.’

  Elizabeth snorted out a laugh and swatted his bare chest with her hand.

  ‘You know I didn’t mean this, Robbie. This has been wonderful,’ she turned her head for his kiss, ‘but every day, for three weeks I have had to be her. I’m pleased to have the chance to be Bess again.’

  He smiled at her. ‘I’m glad too. Glad your celebrations pleased you. Glad I pleased you,’ he bumped her nose with his own and kissed her lips briefly, ‘glad I’ve got a week to organise the transport and carts before the progress.’

  ‘I’m sure Cecil will have another interminable list to go through at the first meeting, Robbie. Do you want to be there, or have you too much to do?’

  ‘I shall come on Monday, my love. Hear what’s on the list at least. When Thomas returns ….’

  ‘Where has he gone? I wondered why he wasn’t his usual dour self in the corridor. I saw Tom Sadler there.’

  ‘Yes. Tom is turning out to be quite a swordsman, so while Thomas was away on an errand for me in Oxfordshire ….’

  ‘Ah, where your brother Ambrose lives.’

  ‘Indeed. Well, I offered Tom a small fee to sleep on a pallet in the corridor with his sword. The doors are locked anyway, but just to be sure, my love. I wouldn’t want to put your safety at any risk…’ he dipped his head and began to kiss her again, to distract her from asking any more about the errand Thomas had embarked on. He was hoping it would only be a few days and Thomas would be back by his side.

  ***

  ‘Scotland has a son, your Majesty,’ William Cecil, hands grasping his lapels as usual, and with all the gravity his voice could muster, addressed the council.

  ‘And I’m sure Walsingham’s spies will tell us if it cries in Italian or in English, Bess,’ Robert chuckled and Elizabeth put her hand over her mouth as she tried to smother her smile. The rest of the council pursed their lips in wry smiles.

  ‘The babe is still the son of the Scots Queen, my Lord. Still a prince, even if his sire is in doubt.’ Robert bowed his head in acknowledgement of Cecil’s point.

  ‘Have we any news about our cousi
n, Will? How is Henry after the birth of his son?’

  ‘Drunk on amazement, I’d hazard,’ said Robert into his cup of ale, and Elizabeth smiled again, then looked at Cecil for an answer.

  ‘Well, Your Grace, according to my spies,’ Walsingham took up the question, ‘he has got quite a little group of friends, with whom he gets drunk, and goes riding, and generally causes mayhem in the surrounding towns. The Queen is becoming, shall we say, disillusioned with her pretty husband.’

  Elizabeth suppressed another smile and Robert deliberately didn’t snort his disgust into his cup. He could imagine the type of ‘friends’ Henry Darnley cultivated, and he knew it was just a matter of time before they turned into his enemies.

  ‘So we shall wait then, to see what happens in Scotland.’ Elizabeth looked at Cecil and he nodded pompously. ‘What of Ireland, Will?’

  ‘The Earl Marshall has begun his journey to return there, Majesty,’ Will Cecil consulted his list and make a careful mark against another item before continuing, ‘He petitioned me for more funds and troops before he left, and I promised to consult the council on his behalf.’ Cecil looked round the assembled faces, and Robert busied himself with his wine cup.

  ‘Have we made any progress though?’ asked Elizabeth, urgency in her tone. ‘Is it worth committing men and throwing money at a campaign that seems endless and with no clear profit at the end?’ Again Robert didn’t look up from his cup, and he waited to see what response Cecil would give to the Queen’s question.

  ‘Progress has been limited, Majesty, and the troops are being decimated by disease. Those that aren’t dying of the bloody flux are deserting in droves. It is not a popular conflict with the country. No stirring battle cries to conquer Ireland, Your Grace. Not like France, when we had more volunteers than we could equip.’

 

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