Queen Of This Realm

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Queen Of This Realm Page 19

by Виктория Холт


  “He was very sure of himself even then, so they tell me,” said Mary. “They always said he should have been the eldest. He looked after the family. The death of my father and brother…”

  “I forbid you to speak of such things. I know Robert looks out for those he loves.”

  “And he loves none as he loves Your Majesty.”

  “I believe that to be true. I call him My Eyes, because he is always looking out for what is good for me.”

  “It is so comforting for a woman to have a man to care for her … even if she is a queen.”

  I gave her a slap across the hand—playful but there was a touch of irritation in it. “There are some women, Mary Sidney,” I said, “who are capable of managing their own affairs, even if it be ruling a kingdom.”

  “I know that full well. Your Majesty is an example of such.”

  “Well, tell me about the Midsummer party.”

  It turned out to be an interesting occasion. It was a glorious day as was fitting for Midsummer and the sun shone on the pageant Robert had devised. He was an expert with such arrangements. He had several boats, all decorated with roses and other summer flowers, and it seemed as though the whole Court had turned out to witness the pageant.

  There was stirring music coming from one of the barges and children's voices singing the sweetest songs, all in praise of me.

  I was sumptuously gowned in white damask with a greenish pattern on it. Green was becoming to my coloring and brought out the red in my hair. My puffed slashed sleeves fell back to show my hands which were adorned with jewels. My hair was carefully dressed with a few false pieces to give it body and I always looked well with it piled high because of my high forehead. I tried to look as much like my father as possible. People still talked of him affectionately; moreover it reminded them that I was his undoubted daughter and the true inheritor of the throne.

  Robert was magnificent as always in blue satin. The sleeves of his jerkin were slit from wrist to shoulder to show the doublet beneath which was decorated with pearls and embroidery. His breeches—a fashion borrowed from the French—were full at the top and narrowed at the knee, slashed and puffed looking like latticed windows with bars across which sparkled with jewels. He had the most perfectly shaped legs I have ever seen and had no need for garters. His stockings, with gold and silver thread woven into them, fitted perfectly. In his hat was a curling blue feather.

  I listened for the cheers of the people. They were not quite so wholehearted as they had been before the scandal but they were affectionate enough for me. Less so perhaps when Robert appeared with me, and I knew that I must still act with the utmost caution.

  Lettice Knollys was in the same satin-padded, flower-decorated barge as I was and although she was much less elaborately dressed, she managed to look strikingly handsome. I felt a sudden qualm because I caught Robert watching her. She herself was gazing at the shore, but a certain smile played about her lips which could have implied something. What?

  He is looking at that woman, I thought. And what was it I saw in his eyes. Lust! How dared he, when I was there.

  Then I thought: Robert is a man. I would not have him otherwise. I have held myself aloof. Must I be surprised if he sometimes turns his eyes on other women? I blamed her. Was she playing some game with my Robert?

  I would have to watch Madam Lettice. Robert too, perhaps.

  I was faintly uneasy. I did not want the situation to change. Marry Robert I could not. I saw that clearly. What if I told him definitely that there could never be marriage between us? He was a free man now—no longer shackled to his little country wife.

  Nothing stands still. Life changes. Was Robert growing restive? That was a matter of some concern, especially with a minx like Lettice Knollys close by.

  Robert was beside me and I said to him curtly: “So you are admiring the view?”

  Whether he knew I had been aware of his interest in Lettice or not, I was not sure. But he immediately turned to me. “I cannot see anything but Your Majesty when you are near.”

  “It did appear that you found other objects of interest.”

  “I was lost in thought,” he said glibly, “wondering what I could devise for your pleasure.”

  The Spanish Ambassador de Quadra was standing near. “I trust my lord,” said Robert, “that you do not find our little entertainment too boring.”

  “On the contrary,” said de Quadra, in his rather halting English, “I found it most interesting.”

  He was looking from me to Robert speculatively.

  “Did you hear the people cheering the Queen?” asked Robert.

  “I did. They love her well.”

  “We all love the Queen,” went on Robert. “It is our bounden duty to do so, but there are some of us who love her with such intensity that we think of nothing else night and day.”

  “And you are one of these, Lord Robert?”

  He looked at me fervently and I forgot momentarily what I had thought to be his interest in Lettice Knollys.

  “I, more than all the Queen's subjects, love her with an undying love. In fact, my lord, you are a Bishop. Why should you not marry us here and now?”

  I looked sharply at the Spanish Ambassador. He did not seem in the least surprised at such a request and looked at Robert almost as though there was some secret pact between them.

  I said: “I doubt the Bishop would have enough English to carry him through the ceremony.”

  De Quadra was watching me steadily and his next words amazed me. “If you will rid yourself of William Cecil and the band of heretics who surround you, I would willingly perform the ceremony.”

  He bowed and turned away.

  I said to Robert: “Why did he say that? It is almost as though he had considered the request before.”

  “Oh,” replied Robert, “you know these Spaniards. It would have been a delightful way of marrying, don't you think? On a barge…on Midsummer's Day, unexpectedly…”

  I felt uneasy. I said rather sharply: “It is not the way in which the people expect their Queen to marry.”

  I called Lettice to my side. I wanted to know whether I had imagined what I thought I had seen. She came demurely. Robert scarcely spoke to her. The poor girl must have felt completely snubbed. She did not appear to mind though and Walter Devereux joined us. He was Viscount Hereford, just about Lettice's age—quite a presentable young man but rather dull as I supposed every young man must be when compared with Robert. He seemed quite taken with Lettice and she was turning those startlingly beautiful eyes of hers on him in such a way that was inviting, promising—just as I had imagined she had looked at Robert a short while ago. It was her way with any man—not to be taken seriously.

  What I was really thinking about was the strange words of the Spanish Ambassador.

  They remained in my mind during the whole of that magnificent pageant.

  * * *

  MARY SIDNEY WAS NOT the sort of girl who could keep a secret and I very quickly discovered that something was on her mind. She was preoccupied, anxious and uncertain. I reproved her several times for her clumsiness; she did not even seem to hear me, which was strange because generally she was so sensitive and could be upset for hours after a reprimand.

  I contrived to be alone with her after my toilette had been completed and I said: “Mary, you had better tell me what is on your mind.”

  She looked startled and then fell on her knees and buried her face in my gown.

  “You should be careful,” I said tartly. “Those aglets on the skirt can be very sharp if they catch your skin. I am always complaining about them.”

  She lifted her face to mine and there was no mistaking her woebegone expression.

  I said: “Take the stool. Now confess.”

  “It is because we all love Your Majesty so dearly…”

  “Yes, yes,” I interrupted impatiently. “That is the opening when people are going to admit to have done me some wrong. Get on with it.”

  “We hav
e done you no wrong, Your Majesty. Indeed not. There is not one of us who would not die for you.”

  “So many have offered me their lives,” I retorted, “that the offer does lose its impact after a while—particularly as these offers are frequently given lightly, so that to offer a life to a queen has become almost a figure of speech. Don't try my patience further, Mary. Admit. Confess, whatever it is.”

  “Robert loves you dearly. You are his life. If you could have seen his pride, his joy when you referred to him as your Eyes…He cannot live in this suspense, Your Majesty.”

  “And what does he propose to do about that?”

  “It was a plan.”

  “Do you mean a plot?”

  “I mean that Henry and I and Robert thought…if we could get the help of Spain to your marriage, you would agree to it.”

  “And how do you think you could get the consent of Spain?”

  “Your Majesty, Philip is no longer your suitor, but there is one thing that Spain desires above all else—perhaps more than an alliance through marriage. That England returns to Rome.”

  “What!” I cried, almost jumping out of my chair.

  “Well, we thought—Henry, Robert and I—that if Spain had the promise that England should be returned to Rome in exchange for their support in the marriage…”

  “Indeed!” I cried. “And I suppose King Robert would have arranged this after the marriage?”

  Mary was silent. I sat very still. You are not yet King, Lord Robert, I thought. And this is what you would propose! Consent to the marriage and you will return England to Rome!

  How right I had been! He thought himself already King. What had de Quadra said: “Dismiss Cecil.” The cleverest and most unbiased counselor the Queen ever had! And all because he was what the Spaniards would call a heretic!

  I began to laugh.

  Mary looked at me wonderingly.

  “Your Majesty is not angry?” she said pleadingly. “It is only because Robert loves you so much… because he is so impatient.”

  “And because he is so ambitious, eh? Because already he feels the crown on his head?”

  “I should not have told you.”

  “It was your duty to tell me.”

  “I was very worried to be involved in such a plan without your knowledge.”

  “And so you should be. But you did well to tell me, and know this, and tell your fellow conspirators this, that whatever they think to plot without my knowledge, they will never succeed in it. There is one ruler of this realm and I am that ruler.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Bring me my looking-glass,” I said.

  She did and I studied my face. Not beautiful…as Lettice Knollys was, but attractive with that white skin and tawny hair and large tawny eyes which had a faraway look, yet penetrating, because they were a trifle shortsighted. I touched my hair with my beautiful white hands. No one had hands quite like mine—not even Lettice Knollys.

  I said, “Get your combs. I need my hair a little higher. Hurry, and take care that you do not pull.”

  While Mary arranged my hair I was thinking: Sell my country to Rome! My dear Robert, you may be handsome, charming, much sought after by the women of my Court, but I am the Queen. I am the one who makes decisions. That is something you will have to learn.

  No man shall govern me; and I shall govern my country.

  * * *

  TO MY DISTRESS Lady Jane Seymour died. She had been ailing for some time and had never been a strong girl. I had been quite fond of her and to please her family I ordered that she should have a state funeral in Westminster Abbey.

  I missed her very much. Jane had been one of those good girls who never complained and was always willing to do what was asked of her.

  I had always believed that I should show myself to my people, and I liked to move about the country so that those who lived in remote places could feel they had some contact with me.

  Since the Amy Robsart scandal I felt more than ever the need to keep my people's good will and so I was traveling often. When we made these progresses through the country, the Court went with us. We stayed at the various big houses on the route and although my rich subjects found entertaining us very costly, they regarded it as a great honor and would even be piqued if their houses were not visited.

  On this particular occasion we were in Ipswich and among my retinue was Robert, of course. As my Master of Horse he must always be with us and he would ride beside me which was all in keeping with the position he held and was one of the reasons why we had both thought it perfect for him.

  I had not reprimanded him about his secret plot with the Spanish Ambassador, but I continued to hold him off, and he remained in a state of frustration which was sufficient punishment, I thought; since he was as ardently devoted as ever, I was quite satisfied with the state of affairs.

  With us also was Lady Katharine Grey who had seemed very preoccupied of late. After Mary Sidney's confession, I wondered what Katharine was about. She was pale and there were rings about her eyes which I had not noticed before. She looked as though she was sickening for something. I was not greatly disturbed because she was after all a rival of whom I must always be conscious and my nature was not of a kind to endear me to such people.

  It was while we were in Ipswich that Lord Robert surprised me while I was at my toilette.

  It was early morning and he looked so disturbed that I dismissed my women and granted him an audience. I was looking quite attractive with my hair loose and in my petticoats, though when he appeared I immediately requested that a wrap be put about my shoulders.

  When they had gone Robert seized my hand and kissed it.

  “My dearest,” he said, “I had to come to tell you this without delay for I fear someone else should bring news of what happened last night and misconstrue…”

  “Tell me quickly,” I cried. “I am all interest.”

  “Last night Lady Katharine Grey came to my bedchamber.”

  I felt myself go cold with fury but he went on quickly: “Oh, not on my invitation. She came to plead with me for help. I dispatched her with all speed, but I feared someone might have seen her either enter or leave my bedchamber and have come to you with some garbled story.”

  “You had better tell me what happened.”

  “She was not five minutes in my chamber. She was frantic with anxiety. That is why she came.”

  “What is her problem? Does she want you to help her take the throne from me, or would she offer my country to Rome as a bait for their help?”

  He flushed a little. Then he said: “She is pregnant and in a dire state.”

  “Pregnant! She has no husband. I have never been asked to give my consent to a marriage.”

  “She has a husband.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Lord Hertford.”

  “He is in France.”

  “Exactly so, and she does not hear from him. She swears she is married, but she has no proof of this until Hertford returns. Meanwhile she wants help.”

  I was angry. She had no right to marry without my consent. She was next in line to the succession and she was pregnant, which would call attention to my barren state.

  “Help?” I said. “How dare she? To marry without my consent and that of the Council! It is feckless in the extreme. She should go to the Tower. Do you believe there was a marriage? Hertford is not in the country. There must have been witnesses.”

  “I dismissed her quickly from my chamber and know nothing but what I have told you, and that, I thought, should be imparted to you without delay.”

  “Indeed yes,” I said.

  He looked at me pleadingly. “How delightful you look so simply attired. I am not sure that you are not even more beautiful like this. I think you are. You do not need the adornments so necessary to other women. Simple, natural, beautiful, the Queen among women…in her natural state…”

  He would have embraced me but I held him off.

  “My women a
re close by,” I said. “We want no more gossip.”

  “Then let us marry and put an end to it.”

  I sighed. “I fear that would be the start of it.”

  “My dearest, you would have nothing to fear with me beside you. I would protect you.”

  “Oh never fear, Robert, I will protect myself well enough.”

  “Then…”

  “Now get out, dear Robert. I shall call my women to finish dressing me. I must see Katharine Grey at once.”

  * * *

  SHE STOOD BEFORE ME—a poor frightened girl. I could almost feel sorry for her.

  “You had better repeat that tale which Lord Robert has brought to me concerning you,” I said.

  She fell on her knees and I went on: “You are very humble today, my lady. That is unusual. Tell me everything.”

  “Your Majesty, Lord Hertford and I fell in love when I was at the Seymours' place where I went with Jane. Jane was very anxious for us to marry and helped us.”

  I nodded grimly. “So Hertford had to be pressed into it, did he?”

  She did not answer.

  “Well,” I said, “so you married. What witnesses have you? Where is the priest? Girls dally with men, I know, and then are amazed at the consequences.”

  “Madam,” she said with some dignity, remembering doubtless that she had a claim to the throne. “Lord Hertford and I are married.”

  “Well, then you should have no difficulty in proving it. Where is the priest who married you… without my consent I would like to add. I shall have a few words to say to that gentleman.”

  “I do not know his name, Your Majesty. I do not know where he is now. It was a secret ceremony in my lord's lodging.”

  “But you must have had a witness.”

  “It was Jane.”

  “Jane is dead,” I said. “So there is no witness and no priest. But there is a husband, so you tell us.”

  “I do indeed,” she said quickly.

  “Do you realize that you have committed treason? Do you know of the law?”

  “I know it, Your Majesty.”

  “You shall be taken this day to the Tower of London and there you will be held. Hertford shall be sent for and we shall hear his side of the story.”

 

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