The Queen's Favourite

by Laura Dowers

  Robert grinned, leant over the railing and took her handkerchief from her lap. He wiped his forehead.

  Norfolk’s red face turned people at his impudence. ‘You knave,’ he roared, quieting all the voices around. ‘How dare you take such a liberty?’

  Robert stared at him, open-mouthed. He could not believe Norfolk was serious, but the duke was trembling all over with rage. Robert shook his head, laughing.

  Norfolk lunged at Robert and grabbed his shirt. ‘You bastard,’ he hissed, spittle dabbling Robert’s chin. ‘I’ll teach you.’

  ‘Enough.’ Elizabeth’s voice rang out loud. ‘How dare you presume so much, Norfolk?’

  Norfolk lowered his arm. ‘I was thinking of your honour, Your Majesty.’

  ‘Indeed? Is my honour so fragile that it cannot stand some honest fellow’s handling?’

  ‘Honest fellow?’ Norfolk scoffed, his bluster returning. ‘Hardly a label I would credit a Dudley with.’

  ‘Kiss my feet, you miserable dog,’ Robert snarled and the two men squared up again, but Elizabeth had had enough. ‘Will you brawl in my presence? Two of my nobles making such a spectacle of themselves! You, my lord,’ she pointed at Norfolk, ‘learn to contain your spleen or I will have you sent from Court. And you, Lord Leicester, show due courtesy in future. Ladies, away.’

  Mary followed her brother back to his rooms. He had persuaded her to attend court for a few weeks, but he had not managed to persuade her to remove her veil. ‘Honestly, Rob, you should be careful.’

  He threw open the door to his bedchamber and strode inside. ‘Careful?’ he scoffed. ‘I have nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Not from the queen. I mean, you should be careful of the duke. The Howard’s are a crafty lot, they always have been. Are you going to change?’

  ‘In a minute,’ he said, pouring himself a large cup of beer. He gulped it down, wiping his sleeve across his mouth. ‘By Christ, I needed that.’

  ‘Thirsty work?’

  Both he and Mary turned. Elizabeth was in the doorway, smiling.

  ‘Damned thirsty,’ he replied. ‘Are you coming in or are you planning to linger there?’

  She stepped inside, one of her Ladies, Lettice Devereux, the Countess of Essex, close at her heels. ‘Lettice, you may go. Lady Sidney is here to attend me.’

  Lettice glanced at Robert as she dropped a curtsey, gave him a quick flutter of her eyelashes and retreated, closing the door as she left. Elizabeth sat down on the bed.

  ‘Mary was just saying I should be careful of the Howards.’ Robert poured water from a jug into a large bowl. ‘She doesn’t like the duke.’

  ‘Not many people do,’ Elizabeth said. ‘He’s not an easy man to like.’

  ‘He’s a pompous ass,’ Robert said, leaning against the cabinet.

  Elizabeth looked him over, her gaze taking in his long legs, his chest, where a thin long triangle of skin and dark curly hair peeped through his open shirt. She looked away as heat flooded up her neck.

  Robert, recognising the signs of desire, looked at Mary and flicked his eyes at the door. Mary understood and frowned, but his eyes were insistent.

  ‘Madam,’ she said huffily, ‘would you give me leave to fetch something from my room?’

  ‘Of course, Mary,’ Elizabeth answered quickly, a quiver in her voice.

  Mary exited.

  Robert turned back to the bowl of water and pulled his shirt over his head. With his back to her, Elizabeth could look at him all she pleased; the smoothness of his skin, the curves of it as it stretched over bone and muscle. She watched as he splashed water on his face, over the back of his neck and chest. Water trickled down his spine. He turned, grabbed a linen cloth and slowly, deliberately, rubbed his chest dry. Elizabeth met his eye and a tremor ran through her.

  Robert moved to the door and locked it, turning the key slowly, giving her a chance to protest. But Elizabeth said nothing.

  She stood up to meet him, tilting her head back, ready for his kiss. His lips pushed against her, his tongue lapping at her teeth to open. She gave in and he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. Her hands ran over his naked back, grabbing and scratching at the wonderful feel of his skin. Robert pushed her back onto the bed and made a grab at her skirts.

  Her heart was pounding as she felt his hand on her thigh. Panic gripped at her stomach and she couldn’t breathe. Wrenching her mouth from his, she pushed him away and scrambled to the other side of the bed.

  ‘Unlock the door,’ she cried. ‘UNLOCK IT.’

  Robert hurried to the door and turned the key. ‘Bess,’ he asked quietly, ‘what have I done?’

  ‘It’s not your fault.’

  ‘I wouldn’t hurt you.’

  ‘I know. I just...I can’t, Robin, I can’t.’

  She rose on shaky legs from the bed and smoothed down her skirts. She pressed her fingers to her lips, tentatively, as if they were bruised. ‘You should get dressed. And then....then we will play a game of cards. I’ll wait for you. In there.’ She strode into the adjacent chamber, closing the door behind her.

  ‘You took your time,’ he heard her say and he realised Mary had returned. He pulled on a clean shirt and doublet. Taking a deep breath and fixing a smile upon his face, he joined the women.

  36

  Hampton Court Palace, Surrey, November 1564

  Elizabeth was experimenting, trying to see if she could bear to live without Robert by her side. Thomas Heneage was handsome and very attentive. She liked him and his company did make a change. Yes, perhaps Heneage would do. For a while at least.

  Heneage suggested a walk. Elizabeth agreed, taking his arm as he led her out into the gardens. She caught Robert’s eye as they passed his card table but she wasn’t able to read the expression on his face.

  ‘Your turn, Rob,’ Henry Sidney prompted. ‘Is something wrong?’

  Robert selected a card and laid it down. ‘No.’

  Henry cast a look at the retreating queen and her companion. Her Ladies trailed a discreet distance behind. ‘Has the queen upset you?’

  ‘Why would she have upset me?’

  ‘Well, she seems to be spending a great deal of time with Thomas Heneage.’

  ‘She can spend time with whomever she likes,’ Robert said carelessly, winning the game and taking his money. A ripple of laughter filtered through the window from the group outside. ‘Heneage has taken her fancy, that’s all. You know how she is, Hal. She’s like a butterfly, flitting from one flower to the next. She gets bored and moves on to another.’

  ‘The queen’s bored with you? I can’t believe that.’

  Robert shrugged.

  ‘I’m surprised you’re taking it so calmly. It can’t mean good for you if you’re no longer in favour.’

  ‘What harm can it do me? I have my earldom, I have my estates and if the plan holds, I’ll soon have a royal wife as well.’

  Henry’s mouth dropped open. ‘You mean you are going to marry –’

  ‘Not Elizabeth. Mary Stuart. Maybe. Thomas Heneage is obviously my replacement.’

  ‘The queen would send you to Scotland?’

  ‘That’s why I was given my earldom, to make me more suitable for a queen.’

  ‘You want to marry Mary Stuart?’

  Robert leant back in his chair, and blew out a puff of air. It was hot and he could feel his shirt sticking to his skin. ‘The idea is growing on me. Especially now I see how Elizabeth treats me. She toys with me, Hal, and I am getting mightily tired of it.’

  ‘So, seek a diversion. There must be plenty of willing women at court.’

  ‘Oh, they’re willing enough. But if Elizabeth found out…. You know how possessive she is. Then again, now she has Heneage, she may not be watching me too closely.’

  ‘Well, then. Let’s pick one for you.’

  ‘Henry,’ Robert scolded, almost embarrassed as Henry twisted in his seat to peruse the company.

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Lettice Devereux. Now, she, Rob, is a beauty
.’

  ‘A beauty with a husband.’

  ‘Who is in Ireland, I believe, and none too sorry that he is there, I should say. What do you think of her?’

  Robert glanced over Henry’s shoulder, out of the window to where Lettice stood, looking bored and glancing longingly back to the chamber. He had noticed Lettice often, for her auburn hair, thicker and more lustrous than her cousin the queen, made her stand out. She had perfect soft, creamy skin, a comely figure and inviting eyes that often looked his way. They were doing so now. He met them with his own and inclined his head towards her. Lettice returned a surprised, happy smile.

  Robert said, ‘I think she will do very well.’

  37

  Hampton Court Palace, Surrey, December 1564

  Robert hadn’t planned to approach Lettice in the corridor, but he had been on his way to the stables to inspect the horses when he bumped into Lettice.

  ‘Good morning, Lady Essex.’ Robert made a deep bow, which she returned with a low curtsey, the fingers of her right hand playing with the low neck of her bodice. He noticed the round swell of her breasts beneath the green silk and felt the first stirring of lust. He sighed dramatically. ‘What a very lucky man your husband is, Lady Essex.’

  ‘To be serving in Ireland?’

  ‘To be married to you.’

  She gave a little laugh, smooth and low. ‘Much good it does him, being so far away.’

  ‘Do you mind so very much?’

  ‘I find I can bear it well.’

  ‘You’re not lonely, then?’ Robert moved closer.

  She lowered her eyes. ‘I sometimes yearn for company.’

  ‘But you have the constant company of the queen’s Ladies.’

  Lettice shook her head. ‘The company of women can become very tedious. I find the company of men more agreeable.’

  She looked at him and he knew they need not play the game any longer. They both wanted the same thing.

  ‘Dine with me, Lettice,’ he said, lowering his voice.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Tonight.’

  ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘Lady Essex!’ Elizabeth’s strident voice made them both jump. ‘What do you do here?’ She strode up to them and glared.

  ‘Nothing, Your Majesty,’ Lettice said, her voice trembling.

  ‘And you, my lord?’

  ‘I was on my way to the stables,’ Robert said, damned if he was going to show fear of Elizabeth.

  ‘Indeed. Are my horses to be found in the corridors of my palace?’

  Robert looked away, irritated by her sarcasm.

  ‘The Earl of Leicester was kind enough to enquire of my health, Your Majesty,’ Lettice said.

  ‘Your health is no concern of his,’ Elizabeth snorted derisively. ‘And from the look of you two, I doubt very much that was his concern. Or is enquiring of your health a euphemism for intending to cuckold your husband, madam?’

  Lettice let out a gasp of shock and surprise, her cheeks flushing red as the other Ladies giggled.

  ‘That remark is not worthy of you, Your Majesty,’ Robert growled feelingly.

  ‘Get out of my sight,’ Elizabeth hissed, the tendons on her neck sticking out. ‘Before my temper gets the better of me. By Christ, if my father were alive, he would have had your head for what you just said to me.’

  ‘That being the case, perhaps you wish me to leave the Court,’ Robert suggested, his chin rising defiantly.

  ‘Oh, no, sir. You have duties, do you not? And besides, it suits me to have you here. For when people see you trotting around Court like the dog you are, they know I am here. And damn you, sir, you will be brought to heel.’

  38

  Hampton Court Palace, Surrey, November 1564

  Elizabeth adjusted her bonnet and made her way across the lawn. She stood back a little as Robert drew the bow and watched as the arrow thudded into the edge of the butt. She clapped the poor shot to make her presence known.

  Robert glanced over his shoulder. At first, the spectator appeared to be a dairy maid and he thought it impertinent of her to stop and watch him, let alone applaud. But then he looked a little harder beneath the flapping cloth cap.

  ‘Elizabeth?’

  She folded the fabric back. ‘Yes, it’s me.’

  ‘What the devil are you doing dressed like that?’

  ‘It was the only way I could escape the prying eyes of my ladies. Kat got the dress for me.’ She held out the loose skirts and twirled round. ‘Do you like it?’

  He lied and said yes. In truth, the dowdy garb did little to flatter her thin, boyish body. Elizabeth needed the sparkle of jewels and fine fabrics to make her beautiful.

  ‘Why did you need to escape?’ he asked.

  ‘I wanted to see you alone.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’

  ‘I wanted to say sorry.’

  ‘Well, that can’t be easy for you.’

  Elizabeth held her tongue. ‘Your aim’s off,’ she said, pointing to the butt.

  ‘You called me a dog.’

  ‘I know, I’m sorry. But you did provoke me.’

  ‘By talking to Lettice Devereux?

  ‘She’s a wanton.’

  ‘She’s your cousin. And did she deserve to be banished from Court?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about Lettice,’ Elizabeth sighed. ‘Robin, say you forgive me.’

  ‘Get rid of Heneage and I’ll forgive you.’

  ‘I will,’ she said gratefully.

  ‘Very well then,’ he shrugged. ‘After all, you can have him back when I’m in Scotland.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I can,’ Elizabeth said quietly, handing him another arrow.

  ‘I hear Lord Darnley wants to go to Scotland to look over his estates,’ Robert said. ‘Maybe he and I could travel up together. I’d be glad of the company.’

  ‘Darnley’s not going to Scotland.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Darnley has a claim to my throne and Mary Stuart knows it.’ Her voice grew hard. ‘If she laid her greedy eyes on him, she would probably marry him to strengthen her own claim and annoy me. Mind you, I could wish her joy of him. Do you know, his mother thinks he’s an angel? She has no idea of what he gets up to when he’s out of her sight.’

  ‘He’s a great frequenter of the Southwark stews, I hear.’

  ‘So Cecil tells me. His mother spoils and indulges him, and he thinks himself the loveliest creature alive.’

  ‘Well, if you won’t let him go, I’ll have to go on my own then.’

  Elizabeth was silent for a long moment. Then she asked ‘Dine with me?’

  ‘If you want me to.’

  ‘I’ll expect you.’ She walked away. She was hoping he would say something, call her back, apologise for sulking, but Elizabeth made it back to the palace without Robert saying a word.

  Elizabeth couldn’t sleep. What Robert had said, about taking Heneage back when he was in Scotland, troubled her. As if Thomas Heneage could take his place! She had thought that perhaps she could once. But the past week when she and Robert hadn’t been talking had been unbearable. She couldn’t live the rest of her life like that. No, Robert must not, could not go. She couldn’t let Mary Stuart have him.

  But what to do about Mary? Resolved on the matter of Robert, her mind began to clear. She knew Darnley’s parents had ideas of marrying him to Mary Stuart, hence the sudden plan to inspect his Scottish estates. Did they think she was a fool? How she loathed Darnley; there was something about him that made her skin crawl. To think that he had Tudor blood!

  No doubt Mary would think he was wonderful. Elizabeth felt almost sure of that. It was strange. Although they had never met, Elizabeth felt she understood her cousin, in spite of their differences. The thought of Mary being wedded to that poor excuse for a man! What a jolly dance Darnley would lead her. She pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes. Seconds later, they snapped open. Yes, she thought with pleasure, what a jolly dance! Maybe Darnley should be allowed to go
to Scotland after all.

  39

  Greenwich Palace, London, August 1565

  They were listening to the boy singing. Robert reached for another grape and popped it in his mouth. With juice squirting over his tongue, he asked ‘So when am I going to Scotland?’

  Elizabeth slid him a sideways glance. ‘You’re not going. You know you’re not going. Don’t pretend to be ignorant.’

  Robert smiled smugly. ‘So, Mary Stuart has definitely married Lord Darnley.’

  ‘Well and truly wed,’ Elizabeth confirmed, biting down on a walnut. ‘The stupid woman.’

  ‘You really don’t like her, do you?’

  Elizabeth curled her lip. ‘She rules with her heart, not her head. A woman like that is not fit to be a queen. And she wants my throne.’

  ‘Might she not get it, with Darnley as her husband?’

  ‘It’s a risk, I know,’ she acknowledged. ‘But Cecil has heard that Darnley is already causing Mary problems and my hope is he will cause her more. She has had the sense not to make him king and he resents that. I suppose you take his part on that issue?’

  Robert ignored her remark. ‘Has Cecil heard anything about the little Italian, the Pope’s spy - oh, sorry, the queen’s musician?’

  Elizabeth laughed at his wit. ‘He seems to be befriending Darnley.’

  ‘Befriending? I know Darnley is game for anything, but is Rizzio a catamite?’

  Elizabeth shrugged. ‘He’s a filthy little Italian, who can say what he gets up to?’

  ‘They’re very cunning, Italians.’

  ‘They’re not the only ones.’ Elizabeth said pointedly. ‘I thought you might tell me what you’ve been up to, Robin. With Norfolk, your new-found friend.’

  Robert shifted uneasily. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Oh, yes you do, you little toad. I know you and him, and others on my council are trying to get rid of Cecil. Don’t deny it,’ she held up a hand to halt his protestations, ‘I know all about it.’