‘I take up my residence here from this moment, Thomas. Ensure all my things are moved. You can find me with my sister should you need anything further.’
‘My Lord.’ Thomas nodded again and then strode away to find the squires to help, sword slapping the top of his boots as he moved swiftly down the gallery.
Robert went to seek out Kit.
***
‘Now I know how a mistress feels, Kit, when she is cast off.’ Robert took a long swallow of the wine Kit had poured for him and she gazed at him solemnly then burst into gales of laughter.
‘Oh, Rob. Do stop feeling sorry for yourself,’ she laughed, ‘the Queen still wants you by her side, does she not?’ He nodded and took another drink. ‘She hasn’t ‘cast you off’ as you so dramatically put it. She is just trying to think ahead, to put herself beyond reproach. The Scottish Lairds seem to have taken against their Queen because of her behaviour. Elizabeth will fear the English Lords might feel the same, Rob. And if, God forbid, the French or the Spanish get a sense of any weakness in the throne of England, they may smell easy victory should they mount an attack.’
Robert looked at his sister in surprise. ‘What, Rob? You didn’t think I was capable of understanding foreign policy? I am our father’s daughter, remember. You weren’t the only one to inherit his perspicacity, you know.’
‘I don’t feel as if I have any of his wisdom left, Kit. I feel ….. adrift.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Kit stood and poured him another drink, thrusting it at him impatiently. ‘You are one of the richest noblemen in the land, you have property, you have income, a Queen that loves you, a mistress that loves you even more than the Queen ….,’ she stopped and looked at her brother’s incredulous face. ‘What, Rob? You think I didn’t know? Lettice is my best friend and you are my brother. How could I possibly not know? You told me yourself that you and she had …. while Walter was alive you were …. involved.’
‘That was a flirtation, Kit. But now? Now, we are …..? Have we been so obvious, Kit? We have endeavoured to behave discreetly when we are in public.’ Robert’s voice had lowered to a whisper. Kit snorted derisively.
‘In public, Rob, you are the grand Earl of Leicester, companion to the Queen, and she is the poor, widowed Countess, quietly mourning her heroic husband. You are friendly, mildly flirtatious as you are with most of the ladies of the court, gallant,’ she snorted a laugh, ‘you are courtly.’ Her shoulders continued to shake with mirth.
‘You make me sound a hundred years old, Kit.’
‘I know you’re not that, Rob. Lettice tells me …… a great deal ….. about your …. youth and …. your vitality.’ She collapsed into the chair, curling up with laughter at his embarrassment.
‘Oh, God.’ He closed his eyes briefly and put a hand to his forehead.
‘No, Rob, no,’ flapping her hands at him, Kit did her best to suppress her giggles and she took a deep breath, ‘Lettice is my friend, and she has no-one else to talk to about you. I’m positive she doesn’t tell me …. everything. But she does tell me how much she adores you, how you are her world, even as much as she knows you belong to Elizabeth.’ Robert sucked a deep breath in through his nose and blew it out.
‘And I adore her, Kit. She is so sweet, and loving, and kind. She has a lightness and generosity of spirit about her that I admire tremendously. When I see her with her children, she is so astonishing, it makes me want ……,’ he shook his head, ‘and when we are together,’ he looked at his sister and a flush crept up his throat, ‘she makes me feel as if my whole world begins and ends with her.’ His breath shuddered out and he gave Kit a wry smile and shrugged. ‘I think I’ve just told you I’m in love.’
‘And when your feelings are less bruised, Rob, you will realise that the apartments you now occupy are a damned sight nearer to Lettice’s suite than you were before.’ Kit smiled at her brother conspiratorially, ‘Every cloud, brother, every cloud.’
Chapter 49
elaxing into a chair in Meg’s nursery, Cat surreptitiously slid her feet out of her shoes and then sighed in relief as she helped herself to a sweetmeat.
‘Oh, Meg. I am so glad to sit down.’ Meg finished pouring the ale and brought the cup to the table by Cat’s elbow. She smiled at her friend and sat opposite, pushing over a footstool for Cat to use.
‘Put your feet up then, Cat. You spend so much time standing, no wonder you ache.’ Cat snorted a laugh.
‘I’m getting old, Meg. And these,’ she held up another sweetmeat before taking a bite, ‘don’t help my size. If I was as slender as you, I probably wouldn’t get so tired.’
Laughter came from the other end of the nursery and both Cat and Meg looked through the double doors to see Lettice sat on the floor with her little girls, holding her son up so he could kick his legs and bounce on his little feet. She was surrounded by a puddle of black silk, figured all over with golden embroidery and dotted with pearls to match those at her neck and wound through her hair. She was laughing at her baby son being tickled by his two beautiful sisters and her carefree enjoyment of her children was clear for all to see.
‘She’s recovering nicely, Meg,’ Cat gestured to her daughter with her cup as she took a mouthful of ale, ‘a happier widow than she was a wife towards the end, I’d hazard.’
‘It makes my heart glad, Cat. To see her so happy with her children.’
‘It’s good to have her back at court, Meg. Along with my two big boys,’ she huffed a laugh, ‘who were magnificent in the May Day tourney, I must say. And Ed, of course, with your Tom. Oh, Meg. Where have all the years gone, my lovely?’
Meg smiled. ‘Passed in the blink of an eye, because we were busy with babies and children and the court. How is the Queen, Cat?’ Cat gazed across at Meg and turned her mouth downwards.
‘Managing without Lord Robert by her side day and night, Meg. He is always there in the day time, soothing her, seeing to her every need. As affectionate and gentle with her as always, I suppose.’ Meg nodded at her friend, aware now, that the hilarity had calmed down and Lettice could probably hear the conversation. ‘But she is sad at night, Meg. When we ready her for bed, she seems …….. bereft. And when I see her in the morning, I know she has been weeping.’ Cat shook her head sadly, then lightened her voice.
‘They have all gone hunting as part of the celebrations, which is why I have taken an hour to come and see my lovelies here,’ she looked at Meg and raised her eyebrow, ‘now I’m too old and stout to sit on a horse.’ Cat laughed and shrugged as she chose another sweetmeat.
‘But I know our Princess is worried about Scotland, Meg. We have heard that the Scots Queen has run away to be with her lover.’ Meg’s eyes widened and she took a sharp breath.
‘Francis tells me what Walsingham’s spies report, Meg. They are saying the Scots Queen is madly in love with the Earl whom everyone thinks had Henry Darnley killed, and she has run away to marry him. That is why our Princess is feeling so …… under scrutiny, I suppose.’ Cat shrugged.
‘What about her baby son, Cat? Has she taken him with her to her Earl?’ Cat snorted in disgust and shook her head.
‘No, Meg. She has not. Her brothers have taken the babe into their care to ensure his safety. Francis says they don’t trust Bothwell not to see the babe suffer the same fate as the father,’ she snorted another laugh, ‘whichever one he was. Both candidates were murdered, after all.’
‘Poor woman, being separated from her child,’ sighed Meg sadly.
‘Foolish woman, throwing her life away for a man,’ snorted Cat.
‘She must be very much in love, Mother,’ said Lettice as she came through the doors brushing her skirts down and pouring herself a cup of ale.
‘Hmph. L
ove. It seems to me that only women are brought low by love. Men have more sense.’ Lettice rolled her eyes at Meg as her mother spoke.
‘Sometimes love comes so unexpectedly, Mother, and is so overwhelming you would do anything, go anywhere, suffer any hardship or humiliation just to be with the one you love,’ Lettice took a shuddering breath and blinked sudden tears away, ‘because without them, Mother, you might die.’
‘Mama, mama, do come and see,’ Penelope ran up and grasped Lettice by the hand, pulling her towards the other end of the nursery, and Lettice swallowed the rest of her drink quickly.
‘All right, my lovely girl, I’m coming,’ Lettice allowed herself to be led towards Dorothea knelt at the doll’s house.
Meg couldn’t mistake the look of love on Lettice’s face as she had spoken so vehemently and she slid her eyes towards Cat to see her friend’s astonished reaction.
‘She’s in love,’ nodded Cat towards her daughter. Meg pressed her lips together and gave an anguished nod.
‘Did you know, Meg?’ Meg’s expression became even more troubled. She had promised to keep Lettice’s secret, and true to her word, she hadn’t told a soul. But Cat was her mother, and as a mother herself, Meg would want to know the truth about one of her own daughters. She nodded imperceptibly, a frown creasing her forehead.
‘Lettice is a widow now, Meg, so I really only need the answer to one question,’ Cat’s voice had become lower still as she looked at her friend and her fingers tightened round the pewter ale cup still in her hand, ‘Is he free?’
Meg sighed and looked back levelly at Cat. She took a deep breath.
‘More free now than he was when she first fell in love with him.’
Cat nodded silently, looking at the cup in her hand, then at the fireplace, and then back at the cup.
‘Hell’s teeth!’
***
An insistent knocking woke Robert suddenly, and as he looked through the window, he knew by the fingers of pink creeping across the sky that it was only just after dawn. The knock came again, and then Robert heard a voice through the oak panel.
‘My Lord.’ Thomas’ toneless voice reached him.
‘A moment,’ whispered Robert, untangling himself from the sheet then snatching up his leather work breeches from the back of the chair and pulling them swiftly on. He unlatched the door and met the flat gaze of his manservant.
‘You are called to an urgent council meeting, my Lord.’
‘Now, Thomas? Dear God, are we at war then?’
‘Not war, my Lord.’
‘I shall go, Thomas. I just need a moment to dress,’ Robert turned from the door, then turned back, ‘Thomas. The Countess will need escorting back to her apartment. Discreetly, Thomas.’ Robert’s brows lifted to emphasise his words.
‘No one shall see her, my Lord. She will be quite safe.’ Thomas bowed his head briefly then stood impassively, waiting for Lettice to join him to be escorted.
Robert closed the door quietly and turned towards the bed, where Lettice had pushed herself up to a sitting position, with the linen sheet clutched to her chest.
‘Good morning, my love,’ Robert bent and kissed her gently, and she dropped the sheet and put one hand on his bare chest over his heart, tickling her other hand through his short beard and cupping his jaw.
‘Robin, what has happened?’ She kissed him briefly and then looked at him with wide eyes.
‘I know not, my love. A council meeting, but judging by the time, an important one.’ Robert laced his breeches as he moved round the room, taking a clean shirt from the armoire and grabbing his dagger and his leather jerkin. He stretched up, shrugging the shirt over his head and heard a sharp intake of breath from Lettice. He smiled and kissed her nose.
‘Keep looking at me like that, my love, and I shall be an hour late for whatever they want to tell us.’ The sight of Lettice with her lower lip pushed out in a disappointed pout made him laugh out loud and he nipped at it gently with his lips.
‘Thomas is waiting to escort you, lovely Lily. Put your gown and robe on, and he will see you safely back to your apartment.’ She smiled and nodded, then reached a slender arm out for her embroidered lawn nightgown, heaped in a shimmering pool on the floor where it had fallen the previous evening.
Robert strode from the room, leaving Thomas still statue-like in the presence chamber waiting for Lettice to appear and he hurried down the gallery towards the council chamber.
As he entered, he saw Elizabeth had also been roused from sleep. She was sat at the head of the table, completely engulfed in a huge brocade robe. She had a jewelled net catching her hair, but he could see it was still in the braid she wore for bed. He wondered absently if she had a lady in waiting to share her room, now he wasn’t with her, then he shrugged the thought away and looked across at her. Her lower lip was between her teeth and she worried at it nervously.
Robert went to the side table and poured two cups of ale, then sat in the seat at Elizabeth’s side. He took her hand and kissed the knuckles, putting the pewter cup in her grasp then he thumbed her lip from her teeth. She looked up at him with huge eyes.
‘Take a sip of drink, Bess and try not to hurt your lip. Walsingham will soon be here and we will know what he has to tell us.’
‘It must be something dreadful, Robbie. To wake us all like this.’ He stroked her hand soothingly as they looked towards the door. The latch turned and Walsingham entered, closely followed by Cecil, Throckmorton and Francis Knollys. They all bowed to the Queen and nodded a greeting towards Robert.
‘Majesty, forgive us for the ungodly hour, but we wanted you to know as soon as possible,’ Cecil boomed, as if the meeting were being held in a parade ground, thought Robert.
‘Tell us, Will. What is so urgent?’
Walsingham gave his usual serpentine smile, ‘Majesty, the Scots Queen has fled Scotland and has given herself into our keeping.’
‘We’ve taken her prisoner?’ asked Robert questioningly.
‘Not exactly, my Lord,’ Walsingham glared impatiently at Robert, ‘she isn’t our prisoner. The word ‘captive’ would perhaps be more appropriate. She is under our, er …protection.’
‘Why has she done this?’ Elizabeth’s nerves seemed to have left her, now she knew with what the meeting was concerned.
‘My spies tell me, Your Grace, that she and her new husband raised an army against her brothers, but when they were unsuccessful, Bothwell abandoned her and fled to the Low Countries. Her brothers have taken charge of her son, and have issued a warrant for her arrest. She has come south to escape them.’
‘And her escape from Scotland has put her in English hands, Your Grace,’ Cecil lowered his voice slightly.
‘So what are we to do now, Will? Keep her safe from her own people?’
‘We need to question her, Your Grace. We need to find out if there are any other plots she is a part of. Plots against you, perhaps?’ Walsingham’s oily words made Elizabeth’s fingers start to tremble and Robert took both her hands in his to still the tremor. He leant forward to whisper to her, ‘Take another sip, Bess. Cool your lip.’ Elizabeth did as he bade her and took a breath to calm herself. She turned to address Francis Knollys, who was seated some way down the table.
‘Sir Francis, could you assist us in this? I know the Scots Queen doesn’t speak any English, only French and Latin. Someone with your knowledge of those languages would be needed for the questioning. Would you be able to go?’
Francis looked back at Elizabeth and bowed in his seat, ‘Majesty, the honour would be mine. Sir Ralph would be eminently able to carry on with my work here. I will make arrangements to travel immediately to Carlisle. Then, once the Qu
een is under guard, I can take her further away from the border. Somewhere more secure, perhaps?’
Robert saw Sir Nicholas Throckmorton’s head come up from where it had been resting on his chest, giving the impression he had dozed off. Robert suppressed a smile; the man was elderly and it was very early.
‘Castle Bolton in North Yorkshire, sir. Has the highest walls of any similar castle in England. You’ll be safe enough there, sir, and if any of her supporters try and reclaim her, you’ll see them coming a good day and a half before they reach you.’ His head dropped back onto his chest suddenly and Robert felt Elizabeth’s hand tremble again in his own warm grip. He looked at her and could see the suppressed merriment in her eyes as she stifled a giggle. He pressed her hand gently and she pushed her mirth down and regained control again. Francis Knollys made a note on his parchment.
‘Thank you for that, my Lord. I shall make enquires and let them know we will need accommodations.’ His pompous response almost made Robert snort with laughter but he knew he must not.
Robert looked at Will Cecil and raised his brows. ‘Is that all, my Lord? Now we have decided to bring the Scottish Queen south, is there any further business, or can we all go and dress and break our fast?’
‘No, my Lord Robert. There is no other business. If Sir Francis makes arrangements to question the Scots Queen, and her Majesty is satisfied, then that is the business of this meeting concluded.’ Robert nodded his thanks and pressed Elizabeth’s hand again.
‘Come then, Bess. Let me take you back to your apartment and your ladies. It is still so early, they may want you to go back to sleep for a while before they attend you.’ Robert smiled as he brought Elizabeth to her feet and placed her hand in the crook of his arm.
The Last Howard Girl (Tudor Chronicles Book 3) Page 35