by Jean Plaidy
“I command you to keep your nose out of my affairs.”
“And I insist that your marriage is my affair—mine as much as yours.”
“So you think I will marry you, do you?”
“You have led me to believe that it is not an impossibility.”
“Then you are a fool to hold such hopes. You … a Dudley … to marry with a Queen! Do you think I could so far forget my royal rank as to marry such as you!”
“Does Your Majesty mean that?”
“We do mean it.”
“Then have I Your Majesty’s permission to leave Court? I wish to go abroad.”
“Go! Go by all means. Nothing could please us more. It is with the greatest pleasure that we give you leave to go.”
He was silent. She watched him covertly. There, Master Robert, she thought, what now? That will show you who is in command.
He performed his duty with great care and detached perfection during the hunt. She was almost restored to good humor by the time they returned to the palace; but she waited in vain for him to ask her pardon.
For a whole day he absented himself from Court, since there was no particular duty to keep him there. The Queen’s ministers were alert. They had heard of the quarrel. Was this the beginning of a coolness between them?
The following day Cecil said to her: “Since Your Majesty has decided on a match with the King of Sweden, it would be as well to invite him here without delay.”
She was furious suddenly: “I decide on a match with the King of Sweden! I have heard he is nothing more than an imbecile!”
“Your Majesty, he is a King and would make a worthy husband.”
“I am the best judge of who shall be my husband.”
“Then Your Majesty has no intention of proceeding with this match?”
“I have no such intention.”
Cecil retired exasperated. So her statement, during the hunt, which had been reported to him by those who worked for him, had been made with no other purpose than to anger Robert.
She waited for Robert to hear of her remarks. He would, she felt, return humbly and she would meet him halfway; there would be one of those reconciliations which delighted her. She needed such consolation after a whole day without him, for other men seemed stupid and witless when compared with him.
But he did not come; and at length, when she commanded his presence, diffidently he came.
“Why is it that you have absented yourself from Court?” she demanded.
“Because I have been making preparations to leave the country, and I thought by so doing I was obeying Your Majesty’s orders.”
She became woeful and helpless. Her eyes pleaded: So you would desert me! You would leave me to the mercy of my stern ministers. Is that all your love is worth! Do all your protestations mean nothing?
“My lord,” she said despondently, “is it your wish to leave the country? If that is what you desire, so great is our wish for your contentment that we will grant you the permission to go, even though it is against our wishes to do so.”
He was smiling as he kissed her hand with ardor. “How could I ever find contentment but in the service of Your Majesty?”
“Then all is well,” she said gaily.
“And the King of Sweden?”
She “pupped” with her lips, which was a habit of hers; then she began to laugh, and he laughed with her.
“Come,” she said, “sit beside me and give me the benefit of your conversation. I declare the Court has been a dull place these last hours.”
And when the French and Spanish ambassadors were with her, and one expressed his surprise that Robert Dudley was still at Court, as he had heard his lordship had Her Majesty’s permission to go abroad, she laughed lightly.
“I cannot live if I do not see him every day,” she said.
Then, because she fancied Robert’s smile was too complacent, she added quickly: “He is as my lap-dog.”
That brought an angry look to his face and she put out a hand to him with a very tender smile. “Nay,” she went on, “’tis true that I will not be without him, and where this Dudley is, there you may be sure to find Elizabeth.”
Then the whole Court knew that she was as much in love with him as she had ever been; and they did not believe—nor did Robert—that their marriage would be long delayed.
Time passed pleasantly at Windsor. Elizabeth walked often on the terrace which had been built for her before the castle on the north side. She was fond of walking and was often seen at the head of a little procession of ladies and gentlemen, with Lord Robert beside her, holding an umbrella over her if it rained.
Often she hunted in the park or the forest, for she was as fond of the hunt as her father had been. Bull-baiting and cock-fighting delighted her. She had a stage put in the castle that she might indulge her taste for the drama, and many strolling players had come to Court in the hope of pleasing her and making their fortunes. There were places too for musicians; and in the Windsor Castle orchestra were players of many instruments including lutes and bagpipes, flutes and rebecks.
But she did not forget that it was a Queen’s duty to show herself to her people, and so she set out on a progress through Essex and Suffolk, staying at various houses which belonged to those ladies and gentlemen who were wealthy enough and worthy enough to entertain her.
While they were staying at Ipswich, Lady Catharine Grey attracted the Queen’s attention.
It was during the robing—always an important ceremony, for there were so many dresses from which to choose, so many jewels which must be tried on only to be discarded. Eventually Elizabeth decided on a gown of black velvet and a caul that went with it set with pearls and emeralds; there was a black velvet hat spangled with gold and adorned with a drooping feather which hung over the shoulder.
While the Lady Catharine was adjusting the jeweled girdle she fell into a faint at her mistress’s feet.
For a few seconds Elizabeth stood still, looking down at the girl, who was very beautiful and in that moment astonishingly like her sister, the tragic Lady Jane.
“See to the girl,” said Elizabeth.
It was Kat who came forward and unlaced Lady Catharine’s gown.
“It is but a faint, Your Majesty.”
“Lift her up,” said the Queen. “Get her to a couch. She looks a little better now. She is too tightly laced, I doubt not.”
While the women were putting Lady Catharine on a couch, Elizabeth drew Kat aside.
“What do you think, Kat?”
Kat’s eyes were alert. When a young lady fainted, one could always suspect a certain reason.
Elizabeth’s eyes were steely. “I know what you are thinking, you evil-minded creature.”
“Your Majesty, I may be wrong, but I have wondered about the lady of late.”
“You have wondered?”
“It is a look in the eyes, Madam. I just cannot explain.”
“You said nothing to me.”
“Madam, how could I be sure, and how could I voice such suspicions unless I was sure?”
“It would seem you have learned discretion in your old age. This is a matter of some moment. She is not a mere serving wench, you must know. I have a duty toward my kinsfolk and those in my personal service. If your suspicions are justified …”
“My dearest lady, do not be harsh with her. She is young and so pretty, and Your Majesty knows how easy it is for these things to happen.”
“Easy!” cried the Queen. Had she not fought her temptations? Had she not almost succumbed? Did she not long to be in the condition which might well have overtaken Lady Catharine? “Easy for harlots it may well be!” she snapped. “But this is Lady Catharine Grey—one of three sisters of whose virtue we hear so much.”
She could not control her wrath and jealousy. She thought of the pleasure she might have enjoyed; and being Elizabeth Tudor she was whipping her indignation to fury because the sly Catharine Grey was a possible rival for the throne.
S
he strode over to the group of women who were clustered about the couch.
“Well?” she demanded. “Well? Well? What is the meaning of this? Why does the girl faint in my presence? Have you discovered yet?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
“Then why not?” She bent over the Lady Catharine, who looked at her with frightened eyes. “Your Ladyship has often absented herself from duty,” went on the Queen. “Why? Answer me, girl. Have you been meeting a lover? Why do you lie there looking so frightened? What have you to fear if your conduct has been above reproach? But has it been above reproach? Come … let us see for ourselves!” Elizabeth pulled at the gold thread which laced Catharine’s bodice; she seized Catharine’s skirts.
Catharine scrambled up and fell on her knees crying: “Your Majesty, it is true that I am to have a child.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks were scarlet, her eyes blazing. “You … you harlot! You dare tell me that!”
“Your Majesty, it is not as you think. We were married before Christmas and …”
“Married! So your crime is even greater than I thought. What right have you to marry without our consent?”
“Your Majesty, we feared that it might not be granted and we could not endure to be parted … without …”
“Stop! Who is this man?”
“It is Lord Hertford. He is in France, as Your Majesty knows; but he is my lawful husband.”
“We will bring him back from France to answer for his sins. As for you, you will go to your apartment and there you will stay … my prisoner.”
“Your Majesty …” The girl had flung her arms about the Queen’s knees. “I beg of you, have pity on me. Do not blame him. It was not our fault …”
“So you were forced to marry against your wills, I suppose?”
“We acted so, Your Majesty, because we truly loved.”
“Take her away,” said Elizabeth. “I am covered with shame that this should happen in my Court. I do not believe there was a marriage. The girl’s a slut, and she talks thus to throw dust in our eyes. Take her away at once. She offends us.”
She gave Catharine a push with her foot, and the girl fell backward. Two ladies-in-waiting came and helped her to her feet; they led her away weeping.
“See that she is well guarded,” said Elizabeth.
And as she turned away, she was smiling. The Lady Catharine Grey had put herself into the Queen’s power, and Elizabeth was too shrewd a statesman to miss the opportunity which was offered.
Lord Robert came to the apartment of the Lady Catharine Grey. He was uneasy, for there would be trouble if the Queen heard of this visit; yet he could not ignore such an appeal as he had received.
She had sent a note to him, imploring him to come and see her. Robert was ruthless; he was self-seeking; but, beneath the shell which had been made by ambition, he had a kind heart. He was generous by nature, and it was his pleasure to help those who begged favors of him. He did not wish to bring trouble to any except those people who stood in his way or had slighted him. The Lady Catharine had never done him any harm; she was a beautiful young woman and he liked beautiful young women. Therefore, at the risk of Elizabeth’s displeasure, he could not ignore Catharine’s plea.
With great secrecy he was let into her apartment where he found her melancholy in her distress.
“My lord, it is good of you to come,” she cried.
“I am distressed on account of your plight.”
“Could you not speak for my husband with the Queen? It is for that reason I begged you to come. I so fear what will happen to him when he returns.”
Robert was silent. The young fool Hertford could lose his head for marrying a lady of royal blood without the sovereign’s consent, and he should have known it.
“The Queen is incensed that you should have married in secret.”
“I know, but what harm will it do her?”
What harm indeed! thought Robert. You who have a claim to the throne, some think, and about to produce an heir! Poor foolish girl! But so charming, so helpless, and looking to the powerful Lord Robert with such appealing and most beautiful eyes.
But he had not come to talk politics with the girl.
“You may rest assured that I will speak to the Queen on your behalf.”
She seized his hand and kissed it.
“But,” he went on, “this is a serious offense for a lady of your rank to have committed.”
“I ask nothing … only to live quietly with my husband and child. We will go away from the Court. We will live in the country. It is what we both wish.”
Poor innocent young woman! Would the Queen allow her to go from Court into the country where she might plot against the Crown, where she might ferment trouble? What an unfortunate family the Greys were! Would Catharine suffer as had her sister Jane?
“My dear sister,” said Robert, “I beg of you, do not hope for much leniency. I will choose a propitious moment to speak with the Queen. I will ask her not to be too harsh with your husband.”
“Robert, my dear brother, I have been so frightened. I have dreamed of late … about Jane. Poor Jane! She did not wish to make trouble. Did Guildford, I wonder? My sister and your brother. They were so young, were they not? Perhaps they only wanted to be happy, as we do. Is it our fault that we were born near to the throne?”
Robert comforted her and as soon as possible took his leave. He dared not stay long. As he went away he thought how ironical life was. The Greys had been born royal, and two of them at least wished this had not been the case. Yet he, who had been born far from royalty, longed to share it.
He did speak to Elizabeth about the Lady Catharine who, by that time, had become a prisoner in the Tower.
Kat was present at their interview, but he was accustomed to her being there and he spoke frankly before her.
“What will you do with that poor girl?” he asked.
“I am enraged,” said the Queen. “She … my own kinswoman … so to behave!”
He said boldly: “Your Majesty is envious of the child she will bear.”
“I … envious of a bastard!”
“Not a bastard. The marriage was lawful.”
“Without the Queen’s consent!”
“The marriage is lawful enough, Your Majesty. You would not be envious now if you were to bear a child.”
“How can you say such things to me!”
“Because from one who loves you as no other loves you, you must expect the truth. Elizabeth, we are wasting our time. Let us marry. Let us have children, as surely we were meant to.”
She put her hand in his and exultation leaped within him. “Would that it could be so,” she said.
“But why not?”
She shook her head but her eyes were brilliant.
“Dearest Elizabeth, do we not always see matters in the same light? We are one. We were meant for each other.”
“We see the world in the same light,” she said. “You are my eyes, dear Robin. Yes, you are right. I long for a child.”
“It is your duty. These perfections should not be allowed to pass away. They must be perpetuated.”
“I know of none who speaks to me so elegantly. What arts you have, Robert!”
“Nay! ’Tis love, not art, that puts these words into my mouth, the love inspired by the greatest lady in the world.”
She smiled and leaned against him.
Kat, watching, sighed. Why does she refuse him? wondered Kat. How can she refuse such a man? He does not lose his graces. He has murdered his wife for her. Dearest and most perverse, most strong and most frail Mistress, what more do you ask of a man?
But Elizabeth drew away from her lover. “Why should you plead for that girl? Is it because she has a fair face?”
“Is it fair? I had not noticed. I remember I have rarely seen her but in your presence.”
“She is pretty enough.”
“A pale moon compared with the blazing sun. When I plead for her, I think of you. That is why I say
deal leniently with her. It is what the people would expect.”
“Robert, there are some who would make her Queen. My father would have chosen this moment to send her to the block.”
“But you have wisdom as well as beauty.”
“Was my father not a wise man, then?”
“Not always.”
“I think that could be called treason.”
“Nay, call it love … love for you, my dearest Queen. The people would not like to see you murder your rivals as your father did his. It is unworthy of you. You are stronger than that. A lioness does not slay mice.”
“What! Should I pardon her! Should I leave her and her husband to raise a brood of children to menace the throne!”
“Not so. Keep her prisoner and keep Hertford prisoner, but do not take their lives.”
She tapped his cheek in her affectionate way. “Did you think I should take their lives? Nay! I would not have her blood upon my hands. I shall keep her prisoner in the Tower, and Hertford shall be my prisoner. There I shall know that she is harmless. I would not hurt her silly head. Let her live … my prisoner.”
He kissed her hand fervently. “You are the wisest as well as the most beautiful of women.”
“Enough of Madam Catharine. Let us talk of more interesting matters.”
“Of Madam Elizabeth perhaps?”
“And Master Robert.”
“Then let us talk of the days when they met in the Tower, and of how he in his lonely cell dreamed of the future.”
“Well, that will make pleasant talk, I doubt not. I’ll send for a musician to charm us with his lute while we talk.”
He looked reproachful; but she felt too soft toward him to trust herself alone with him.
The Queen was pleased that the Lady Catharine Grey should be her prisoner. Lord Hertford was now in the Tower on a charge of treason. They should spend the rest of their lives there, decided the Queen. None should accuse her of having their blood on her hands.
She thought continually of that other and greater menace to her peace of mind. The very mention of Mary Queen of Scots could send her into a black mood.
If she had the Queen of Scots—and the Lady Mary Grey—in prison, she would be a happier woman. But there was another who had come to her notice; this was Margaret, Countess of Lennox. This lady was not very far removed from the throne, since she was the daughter of Margaret Tudor, Henry the Eighth’s sister. The Countess needed careful watching, for she had a son, Lord Henry Darnley; and women with sons could be very ambitious.