Queen Of This Realm

by Виктория Холт

  All my anger against him melted. He truly loved me. He would never pretend; he could not speak with such heartfelt devotion unless what he said was true.

  I softened toward him. If he were brash, it was in my service. Why should I complain of that?

  I took a ring from my finger then. It held a ruby in a cluster of diamonds. I had chosen it because the unusual setting made it unique.

  Then I took his hand and slipped the ring on his little finger.

  “This is a bond between us,” I said. “If you are ever in trouble and need my help, send me this ring. I will remember this moment and how in it you assured me of your affection for me. Mine is in this ring. I shall always remember and come to your aid when I see it.”

  He took my hand and kissed it; and later that day I signed Lopez's death warrant.

  He was taken to Tyburn on a hurdle and before he was hanged and quartered he made a speech to the watching crowd in which he said that he had never thought to harm me and that he loved me as he loved Jesus Christ.

  Someone in the crowd shouted: “Jew! You never loved Jesus Christ.”

  And all the people there believed that in saying what he did he had admitted his guilt.

  His death continued to worry me, because I still was not entirely convinced that he would ever have attempted to poison me. If it were really true that he would, then I knew nothing of human nature. I was sunk in depression as I always was after I had signed a death warrant for someone of whose guilt I was unsure.

  I knew he had a wife, Sara, and five children. I gave orders that they were to retain his property, and later on his son was given a parsonage and a living.

  The Traitor

  RALEIGH WAS STILL IN THE TOWER AND I HAD NO DESIRE to release him. I was still very annoyed with him and he must be an example to them all. Essex was delighted. He had erred in the same way yet had not been treated so harshly and was now in higher favor than he had ever been. I was sure that rankled very much with Raleigh.

  Robert Cecil did ask me if I thought he had been punished enough.

  “It was not exactly a political sin, Your Majesty,” he went on.

  “I will not have immorality in my Court, little man,” I said, “and that is an end of the matter.”

  Of course Raleigh had stood with the Cecils against Essex. He was an able man and I believed that they missed him. That might be but I was not in the mood to release him, though I heard rumors that he was pining away in the Tower.

  “Because he misses his playmate Bessie Throckmorton?” I asked.

  “He says it is because he is denied Your Majesty's presence.”

  “Fine words. Raleigh was always good at them.”

  He clearly had his friends who were anxious to help and they brought these accounts to me.

  I had passed along the river in my barge, I was told, and through his barred window Raleigh had caught sight of me. He had been overcome with frustration. He said he knew how Tantalus had felt, and he had made a futile attempt to dash out of his prison and escape. He had, of course, been caught by his guards.

  “They will doubtless keep a closer guard on him in future,” was my comment.

  It was not long after that when Robert Cecil mentioned that he had received a letter from Raleigh. “He mentions Your Majesty,” said Cecil.

  “Is that so?” I asked with indifference.

  “In fact, Your Majesty,” was the answer, “he talks and writes of nothing else.”

  “Perhaps he is a little more thoughtful of my wishes in prison than he was in prosperity.”

  “He is a man, Your Majesty,” persisted Cecil,” and men fall into these temptations.”

  Of course he was right. I had understood in the case of Robert and Essex. What infuriated me was that these men were telling me that they lived only to serve me while they behaved shamefully in corners with my voluptuous maids of honor.

  Seeing me softening a little Cecil said: “I should like permission to show you his letter, Your Majesty.”

  I held out my hand.

  “How can I live alone in prison while she is afar off—I, who was wont to behold her, riding like Alexander, hunting like Diana, walking like Venus—the gentle wind blowing her fair hair about her pure cheeks, like a nymph. Sometimes sitting in the shade like a goddess, sometimes playing on the lute like Orpheus. But once amiss, hath bereaved me of all. All those times are past, the loves, the sighs, the sorrows, the desires, can they not weigh down one frail misfortune?”

  I liked what I read. Raleigh had always had a fluent pen and flowery words at his disposal. I knew of course that the letter had been written for my eyes to see. He had known his good friend Cecil was hoping to get him released from the Tower in order to help to put a stop to Essex's increasing rise to fortune. Raleigh had been his only serious rival. I saw through it all. But I did like the tone of the letter, and to know how much he was longing to come back to Court.

  I handed the letter back to Cecil in silence.

  “Would Your Majesty consider …” he began timidly.

  “Yes, yes,” I said. “I promise nothing, but I will consider.”

  But I let two months pass before I gave the order for his release. Even then I would not receive him at Court.

  I heard that he had married Bess Throckmorton. “And about time too,” I said.

  They went down to Sherborne but I knew that he was longing to come back to Court, and I supposed I would allow him to…in due course.

  * * *

  ESSEX WAS CONSTANTLY worrying me to receive his mother at Court. I was set against it. I might in time forgive Frances Walsingham and Bessie Throckmorton, but one I would never forgive was Lettice Knollys. Seeing her would be too painful for me. I knew that she was very beautiful… even now; she had a young husband whom she had married as soon as possible after Robert's death, and there had been unpleasant rumors about her relationship with Christopher Blount before she married him. To me she would always be the she-wolf.

  But she was Essex's mother. That always seemed ironical to me. With the two men whom I had most deeply loved, Lettice had been on the most intimate terms—the wife of one; the mother of the other. I could forgive her for the latter, but never for the former. Robert would always be supreme in my life and much of the savor of it had gone with his death; and she had been his wife. He had married her in spite of the fact that he knew how I would feel about the marriage. He could have ruined his career at Court and that he had done for her sake. Perhaps he had been sure of my unswerving love for him. But he had taken a mighty risk… and for her… that worthless she-wolf, who, some said, had been trifling with Blount while Robert was yet alive—and even worse that she had hastened Robert's end.

  Receive that she-wolf! Give her the satisfaction of coming to Court! At least I had been able to deny her that.

  She had tried to live like a queen. She had tried to rival me… not only with him, but in outward show. Oh, the impudence of that woman! Receive her at Court! No, I said firmly. But Essex never knew when to stop.

  I would silence him and he would be sullen. Sometimes he dared stay away from Court, pretending to be sick. I believed he used that method as Robert used it, and as I myself had in the days of danger. But I was never sure—as I had not been with Robert—and I would be very upset wondering if he really was ill.

  One day, during one of these bouts of illness—he really did look rather pale lying in his bed—he told me that he was upset about his mother who was most unhappy because I had shut her out.

  He looked so mournful that I wanted to please him so I said: “I shall be passing from my chamber to the Presence room the day after tomorrow. I shall have to see those who are in the Privy Gallery.”

  “Dearest Majesty.” His smile was brilliant and I suffered a twinge of jealousy. He loved his mother. There was no doubt of that.

  “And you will speak to her? Oh, if you did, that would mean so much. She would be able to come to Court again.”

  I said: “I
have to speak to one or two as I pass through, you know.”

  He kissed my hand rapturously.

  After I had left him, I scolded myself. See Lettice Knollys! I hated the woman. Every time I thought of her I saw her and Robert together. How much worse it would be actually to see her!

  He had wrung that promise from me. Why had I given it? Because he looked so wan. Because I had wanted to please him. What had I said? I had not really promised that I would speak to her. I had merely stated that I would be passing through the gallery, which I often did. Some people were presented to me then…or caught my eye. Then naturally I would speak to them. But I had made no promise that I would speak to her.

  The day came. I was in my chamber and my women were assisting at my dressing ceremony. All the time I was thinking: She will be out there. What will she be wearing? Something becoming. She had always known what suited her and she could look beautiful in the simplest of gowns. She would look young still. She was younger than I… but even she would be getting old.

  Why should I see her?

  “Is there a crowd in the gallery?” I asked.

  One of my ladies replied that the usual crowd was gathered there.

  I yawned. It was time for me to go. In a few moments I would be face to face with my enemy.

  I had been forced to this. What right had Essex? I must not be so indulgent toward him. He gave himself airs. He had too high an opinion of his importance! He should be taught a few lessons.

  “I do not think I will go to the Presence Chamber today,” I said. “One of you must inform the people waiting in the gallery that I shall not be passing through today.”

  They were all surprised but they knew better than to hesitate.

  My orders were carried out and the people in the Privy Gallery—Lettice Knollys among them—dispersed.

  I laughed aloud. That would show Lettice that her son did not command me absolutely. And perhaps it would show her very clearly that I had no wish to see her again.

  * * *

  WHEN ESSEX HEARD what had happened he came storming to Court. He certainly looked pale and drawn, but he had arisen from his sick-bed to register his anger.

  He really was a very rash young man and I marveled at myself for allowing him to act as he did. He would go too far one day.

  He said: “You promised me… and you did not keep your promise.”

  “My Lord Essex,” I retorted sharply, “pray remember to whom you are addressing this tirade.”

  “I am addressing it to one who has so little heed of me that she will not grant me the smallest favor.”

  “You ungrateful wretch! How many favors have you received at my hands?”

  “I want this… for my mother. I want you to be gracious to her, to let her come to Court again. I asked you, and you promised me you would speak to her.”

  “I said that if I were passing through the gallery I might exchange a word with any who caught my eye, which is my usual practice. But I did not pass through the gallery.”

  “You did not because you knew that she was there.”

  “Be careful, Essex. And leave me at once. You offend me.”

  He strode away muttering that he had no desire to be where he was not wanted. I had given too much to that knave Raleigh, but this small thing he asked was denied him.

  Let him go back to his bed. I made excuses for him. He was suffering from a fever. He was overwrought. But he was always overbearing, always rash, and spoke before he had given thought to what he was going to say.

  I had news of him. He was very ill, it was said; and my conscience smote me. I went to see him and there was no doubt about his illness. He was not shamming this time. I had a terrible fear that I was going to lose him as I had lost Walsingham, Hatton and my dearest Robert.

  I said rashly that I would receive his mother privately.

  The effect on him was miraculous. Feverishly he kissed my hands. He said I was the kindest, most beautiful lady in the world and that he loved me as he never could love anyone else. He wished that he could die for me … this very moment. Nothing would give him greater pleasure.

  I was touched and told him that the best way in which he could please me was to get well.

  Then I began to think of meeting Lettice, and I found I was quite looking forward to the encounter. I wanted to see what the years had done to her. I was over sixty, so she must be in her fifties. Was she eight years younger than I? She had always been an outstandingly beautiful woman and she would know how to preserve her looks, I had no doubt. She seemed to have kept the devotion of that new husband of hers and he was twenty years younger than she was.

  I considered what I should wear for the occasion. I wished to look my most regal so that Madame Lettice would not forget for a moment that she was in the presence of the Queen.

  I chose a gown of white brocade with a red satin lining in the hanging sleeves which fell back to disclose my hands, and these less than any other part of me showed my age. They were still very white and supple, and I had always thought them my most outstanding beauty; and consequently everything was designed to bring them into prominence. They looked very beautiful adorned with jewels. My dress was ornamented with pearls set in gold filigree and the bodice was slashed with red velvet. My waist, which was as trim as it had been when I was a young girl, was encircled by a jeweled girdle, and my ruff scintillated with diamonds.

  Thus I was ready to receive my enemy.

  She knelt before me—graceful and still youthful—in blue, and wearing a hat with a curling feather. I saw that her hair was still plentiful and of that attractive color. She probably had some recipe for keeping it so. Trust her to discover the way to stay young. She doubtless had a good apothecary who could provide her with what she needed. And her eyes were large and darkly beautiful.

  “You may rise, cousin,” I said.

  I stood up and we were close together. I put my hands on her shoulders and gave her a formal kiss. She flushed a little. I thought I caught a hint of triumph in her eyes.

  I sat down and indicated a stool. She placed herself on it, gracefully gathering her skirts about her.

  “It is long since I have seen you,” I said.

  “So long, Your Majesty,” she answered.

  “All those years since he died,” I said. It was strange that while she was with me I could only think of Robert. “You have consoled yourself,” I went on, almost angrily.

  She bowed her head.

  “You are like my aunt, Mary Boleyn. There must be men. Ah well, it is long ago, but sometimes to me it seems like yesterday. How did he die?”

  “Peacefully. In his sleep.”

  “There were rumors about his death,” I said, looking at her intently.

  “There were always rumors about him.”

  “That is true. He was different from all others. Such a man. I never knew his like… nor ever shall. I mourn him still… after all these years.”

  She nodded in sympathy.

  Then she said: “I want to thank Your Majesty for all you have done for my son. I trust he gives you satisfaction.”

  “Essex is a charming boy,” I said. “But he is rash. You should impress on him the dangers of that.”

  “I know it well, Your Majesty, and it causes me great anxiety.”

  “You have a lively brood, Lettice. Methinks they take after their mother. Certainly not after poor Walter Devereux. He was a mild man… not suited to you at all, cousin. But you soon found that out, did you not? Still he gave you some pleasant children before he passed on. That was a tragedy but then… his usefulness was over, was it not?”

  I looked at her sharply. Had Robert had a part in Devereux's death? Had she been party to it? She was a fascinating creature. I had to admit it. She had the sort of beauty which lasts as long as life. It was the contours of her face perhaps, perfectly molded, and of course, with youth, that flaming hair and those magnificent eyes she had been irresistible. One could not blame Robert. Perhaps I should have bl
amed myself. I could have had Robert at any time; but there was one question which would have haunted me all my life. Which was more attractive to Robert—myself or the crown? She had had no crown to offer him; he could lose a great deal by marrying her—yet he had done so.

  I said: “I was sorry to hear of your son's death.”

  She looked sad and I thought: She does love her children.

  She answered: “It was a great sorrow, but he wanted to go with his brother. He adored Robert. They all do.”

  “Essex has charm,” I agreed. “He could do well for himself…but he must not be so reckless.” Now I was conspiring with her; I was asking for her help for Essex. It showed how I worried about him—more than was wise and reasonable. I should say, Let him make his mistakes and pay for them. But I really loved that young man. “He speaks too freely,” I went on. “He is so careless and I fear that he could fall into very serious trouble.”

  “I know it well,” she answered, falling into the mood. We were cousins again as we had been when she had first come to Court and I had been attracted by her as I always was by beauty, no matter in which sex I found it. And the fact that there was a blood relationship between us had drawn me to her. “Oh Your Majesty,” she went on, “I worry a great deal about him.”

  “He thinks much of you,” I told her. “He is at least a devoted son. Warn him. Let him understand that he may go so far because of his charm and my affection for him… but he should watch that he does not take too many rash steps. There may come a time when even I cannot help him.”

  She rose then and kneeling, took my hand and kissed it. The face which she lifted to me was distorted a little by her anxiety; and if she became less beautiful in that moment, I liked her the better for it.

  I said: “We will do our best for this wayward boy… both of us.”

  And for a moment we were close because of our love for him.

  The moment passed and I said sharply: “You did not wait long after Leicester's death to take another to your bed.”