Bess - A Novel

by Georgina Lee

  “I trust the Chatsworth food was to your liking?” Bess teases, referring to the daily feasts she sent over to Buxton during their stay.

  “More than ample Bess, but you know we eat only a modest amount and drink very little.”

  There is more ribald laughter from the men, and Bess shakes her head in mock disapproval.

  “Then I shall have to give any surplus to the poor for I have ordered a sumptuous table to be prepared for you tonight.”

  “Lead me to it, lady, for I will do my best for you.” He takes Bess by the arm and they walk inside, leaving George to follow after the others on his own. The next week is spent entertaining the earl as lavishly as possible. Despite the pain in his leg, he insists on hunting every day, presenting a logistical problem for the servants, who have to carry him everywhere. There is plenty of prey to be found with deer and game birds in the park, the fish ponds have had extra stock added and there is always hawking as a change. Every meal consists of a wide choice of meats and fish, pasties, bread, salad herbs and sweetmeats, washed down with plentiful amounts of ale and the best claret.

  In the evening, there is entertainment in abundance with music, dancing, plays, card games and gambling. Bess has hired extra musicians as well as dancers and actors from Derby to perform each night. Her family joins the guests: daughters Frances and Mary with their respective husbands, as well as her sons Henry, William and Charles. Arbella’s mother, Elizabeth, makes a desolate appearance, her widow’s black gown doing nothing for her pale and grief stricken features. Bess excuses her after the first two days and tactfully the earl does not remark on her absence.

  Naturally the earl is keen to meet the Scottish Queen and George escorts him to her quarters the following day with much deference. Bess follows, not wishing to miss out on the encounter. Mary has been expecting him, although she feigns surprise when he appears at her door.

  “May I present His Grace, the Earl of Leicester,” George announces.

  Mary gives him a smile before extending her hand. The earl bows low and kisses her ring briefly.

  “We are pleased to meet you at last, much has been said about you, my lord.”

  “Then we have something in common already, your majesty.” Mary laughs and her shoulders relax.

  “Please sit and talk to me, I have few visitors.” She looks at George and Bess. “Still here? Do you not trust his grace?”

  “On the contrary, but we must remain in the room.” George sits himself down and looks out of the window. Bess arranges herself beside him, making sure she has a good view of the two of them.

  “I hear you have been taking the waters at Buxton.” Mary looks at his leg. “Has it helped your health?”

  “Alas no, my leg will take longer to heal but I have enjoyed my visit to Derbyshire. It is a beautiful, if sometimes bleak county.”

  “I would not know, I see little of it.”

  There is awkward silence then Mary asks sharply “How does my cousin, your queen?”

  “My beloved queen is well and send you her good wishes.”

  Mary gets up abruptly, obliging everyone else to stand. She goes to the door and tries the handle.

  “You see how it is, I am trapped like a caged animal. The good wishes of your queen mean nothing. Perhaps you would ask her how long she intends to keep me here? Or her lackey Walsingham? He seems to know everything!”

  The earl frowns. “I know nothing of your captivity or date of release. I do know that several attempts have been made to release you for dark intent against the throne of England.”

  “Lies! All lies! I have no knowledge of such attempts.”

  He exchanges a glance with the Shrewsburys and his manner softens.

  “Please your majesty, let us sit down again and talk calmly of other matters. I have not come here to cause you further misery.”

  Mary hesitates but returns to her seat. Her ladies sitting at the other end of the chamber have looked up in alarm, but reassured by his words, resume their sewing. Everyone sits once more.

  “Why have you come here then, my lord? Is it out of sheer curiosity? Or have you run out of entertainment and thought it would be fun to see a captive queen?”

  “Certainly not. My reasons for requesting to see you are so that I may reassure my queen of your well being, and convey any request you may have. Also because yes, I am curious to meet you. Who would not be?”

  She laughs softly at his reply.

  “I have been equally curious to meet the man who has had so many honours bestowed on him by his queen. Your talents must be numerous, my lord.”

  “I strive to serve my queen to the best of my ability.”

  “Then she is lucky to have you. I wish I could have been better served.”

  “It would have been my honour to serve you, had life been different for us,” he says. Mary responds with a coquettish look, which is not lost on Bess, who cannot help but glower from her seat.

  “Perhaps I can tempt you to a game of chess? My ladies grow tired of playing me all the time.”

  “I would be delighted, your majesty, but I must warn you I play well.”

  “As do I.”

  They move to the table where the chess pieces are set up and begin to play. Mary is all smiles and charm, having lowered her voice so that the earl has to lean towards her.

  “This game could carry on for hours,” George whispers to Bess after a few minutes.

  “I know. Can we not stop it?”

  “I think not. We have no reason and the earl is clearly enjoying himself.”

  “This is typical of her, she is as cunning as a fox,” she hisses back at him, her eyes glaring at them.

  “Hardly Bess! It is but a game of chess.”

  “Can you not see what she is doing?”

  “No, but I can see you wish to tell me.”

  “Flirting with him, of course! Can you imagine the anger of our queen if she could see them both now? Look, she is touching his hand as she moves a piece.”

  “Hush! They will hear you.”

  “I do not care!”

  “Be silent! There is nothing we can do. Leave now and I will stay with them.”

  “But …”

  “For once in your life do as I say, Bess.” His stern expression is enough to convince her that it isn’t worth an argument, especially with Mary and the earl only a few feet away. She stands up reluctantly, curtseys, and with a final disapproving look at George, she leaves the chamber. Mary and the Earl of Leicester do not even notice she has gone.

  After the earl and his party leave, Bess begins making preparations to return Mary and her court to Sheffield Castle. Each time she is moved, which is frequently, it involves a great deal of packing and unpacking, loading and unloading of carts and logistical planning. George hates moving her anywhere because of the ever-present threat of kidnap. Bess always hates to leave Chatsworth, but she has commissioned some building work at Sheffield Manor Lodge, within the grounds of Sheffield Castle, and wants to see for herself how it is progressing. It is decided that Arbella will remain at Chatsworth with her mother Elizabeth, but that Bess will return there as soon as possible. Arbella has come to bid farewell to her godmother on the morning of the journey.

  “I hope we shall meet again soon, little one,” says Mary as she crouches down to stroke her cheek. Arbella gives a curtsey as she has been taught, before leaving with her nurse. But Bess lingers after the nurse has carried Arbella away.

  “Was there something else, countess?” Mary asks.

  “Only that I wonder if your majesty has considered that my granddaughter, the Lady Arbella, has a stronger claim to the throne than your own son, James?”

  Mary narrows her eyes and looks at Bess with pure hatred.

  “Is there no end to your ambition? Of course my son has the greater claim. It will not be your family that will provide future kings and queens, but my own Stuart blood. You are very impertinent to even think that there could be any other outcome.” She gives
an ironic laugh. “Your husband agrees with me. I pity that poor little girl with you with you as a grandmother. Arbella is an innocent, but you will ruin her life with your schemes and your plans.”

  “You should know, having ruined your own life, the truth can be painful, can it not?”

  “You would not know the truth if it stared you in the face! Your husband has said as much to me on many occasions.”

  Mary moves away to sit under her canopy and watch Bess’ reaction.

  “I think your majesty is mistaken. My husband would never discuss our private affairs with you.”

  “Are you quite sure? How well do you know your husband? What do you imagine we talk about on those long days and nights when you are at Chatsworth, with your own little court? We are very cosy here in my prison and sit together in front of the fire. Yes, we are very content in each other’s company.”

  “I know what you are doing, I know that you wish to cause strife between the earl and myself. Do not imagine that he is your friend; he is your jailor and his first duty is to our beloved Queen Elizabeth, who, unlike you, is worthy of the crown that has been placed upon her head.”

  “After what you have told me of her reputation, I do not believe she is worthy at all. Why, it is common knowledge that the Earl of Leicester shares her bed, amongst many others,” she adds.

  “I have told you nothing!” Bess replies defensively. “If you wish to believe Court gossip, that is your choice. I give no credence to such scandalous lies.”

  “Who will believe you have told me nothing? We have spent many hours together. People will assume we have talked about everything and anything, including your queen.”

  “How dare you suggest that I have been disloyal!”

  “I dare because I am a queen myself. It is not for you to speak to me of what I may or may not say.”

  “No, it is not.” Bess’ eyes glitter dangerously. “But you gave up your rights when you behaved so badly and shocked the world. You did not act as a queen did you? You behaved as a common harlot! There! I have said it and you may make of it what you will.”

  “What do I find here?” George’s voice rings out across the chamber and they both swing round to see him standing in the doorway, like a teacher who has found two fighting pupils. Neither woman responds. Bess has not taken her eyes off Mary who sits apparently at ease, looking guileless. Tight-lipped, he bows towards her.

  “It is time for you to leave. The guards will escort you to the Hall, where I shall join you shortly. Your ladies are waiting for you.”

  Mary gets up and smiles sweetly at George before leaving. No sooner has she left than George shuts the door behind her.

  “Do you realise everyone could hear you?”

  “That woman is evil. Do you know what she said …?”

  He holds up his hands impatiently.

  “We do not have time for this now; the coaches are ready and we must make haste.”

  “You will not believe what she has been saying about you.”

  “About me?”

  “Yes, husband, about you. But as you say, we do not have time.” She makes to leave, but he puts his crooked hand on her arm.

  “Tell me.”

  “Tonight, I will tell you tonight.”

  George nods reluctantly and releases her. They do not speak again for many hours.

  One month later

  The surrounding fields of Sheffield Manor Lodge shimmer in the July heat and everyone complains of the high temperature. Mud on the roads is dry and cracked, giving travellers an uncomfortable ride as they hope for a breeze to cool the stifling air in their coaches. Wheat and barley crops are already golden, but only half the size they should be, due to lack of rain. The grass has withered to a brown stubble, which crackles underfoot and the ripening wild blackberries are as small as currants, showing no promise of a healthy crop. Cattle stand motionless under the shade of trees, and the farmers look hopefully at the cloudless, azure blue sky each morning. At night, the suffocating air hangs as heavy as a blanket around restless bodies that toss and turn with heavy sighs in their beds, unable to sleep. Lying awake in the darkness of their chambers, they wait for sunrise on another unbearably hot day.

  Servants are slower in their work and the cook grumbles that the food is going off much more quickly than usual. The workmen that Bess has commissioned to hang new tapestries and upholster furniture in the Hall are working hard, although their fingers are made clumsy in the heat. Every so often they call out to one of the passing serving girls for a drink to quench their thirst, despite being admonished by their foreman. But their biggest worry is leaving sweat stains on the fabrics; the foreman has worked for Bess in the past and knows she will not pay if the work is not to her satisfaction.

  Mary, enclosed with her ladies and her court in the Turret House nearby, spends much of each day lying on her bed with a herbal compress pressed to her forehead. She finds the heat very oppressive and complains bitterly about everything to her ladies-in-waiting, who are kept busy swatting the flies that manage to gain entry through the narrow windows. Her gentlemen courtiers venture outside to sit in whatever shade they can find, whilst the ladies constantly fan themselves, their close fitting costumes chaffing their skin. They long to dangle their feet in the cool water of the river as a peasant would without qualm, but it is not ladylike, so they just become more irritable and lethargic. The panting dogs lie listless in the shade, and only when it is cooler in the evenings do they show any sign of activity.

  Bess sits in her study, hard at work with Joseph and William, who by now is proving a great asset to his mother. They mostly work in silence, only broken by the scratching of quills. Through the open windows, the sound of birdsong and the bleating of sheep floats in, occasionally interposed with snatches of conversation between servants going about their tasks in the courtyard and outside the kitchen.

  Suddenly the door is flung open and George is before them, his expression twisted and angry. The grip on his stick is such that his knuckles are white and shaking. The three of them look up expectantly, but before anyone can speak, he addresses himself curtly to William and Joseph.

  “Leave us!”

  William glances at his mother who gives an imperceptible nod and they hastily put down their quills and hurry out, closing the door quietly. Bess raises her eyebrows, but her manner is mild when she speaks.

  “George, whatever do you mean by bursting into my study in this manner?”

  “Have you told the workmen they may spend their nights here until the work is finished?”

  “Yes, I see no harm in it.”

  “Do you not realise that the Scots Queen is only yards away in the Turret House?”

  “Of course, but there is no danger, she …”

  “Why do you always go against me?” he shouts.

  “I never go against you, husband. You have the only keys to her apartments, the workmen do not pose a threat.”

  George’s face is damp with perspiration as he thrusts it over the desk between them. In his temper, he can hardly enunciate his words, and spittle has gathered in the corners of his mouth.

  “I am in charge here, not you! If I say the workmen cannot stay overnight then that is how it shall be. Who are you to countermand my authority?”

  “Do not raise your voice to me in that manner!”

  “I shall raise my voice to anyone I choose.”

  Bess stands up and looks him square in the face.

  “You may be in charge of the security of the Scots Queen, but I am in control of the household and it is just as well that I am, for otherwise it would all fall about our ears. If the workmen stay here, it will mean less time will be spend travelling for them, thus meaning the work will be completed more speedily and cost us less.”

  “I have already spoken to John Dickenson about this matter and it has been decided.”

  “You did this without consulting me!”

  “You did not see fit to consult me, but took it upon you
rself to give orders.”

  “Why should I not? Am I not mistress here?”

  “You may be mistress, but it is my money that pays for all your work.”

  “Do not start to complain about the cost of everything again. Your wealth can easily afford to pay for it. I have never known anyone so obsessed with money.”

  “Is that so? You display a fine show yourself of wanting more and more money to fill your coffers. What do you know of my wealth? What do you know of except your own ruthless character? I have never known a woman to be so greedy and ambitious.”

  She is stunned by his depth of feeling and her eyes widen in surprise. “It pains me to hear you say such cruel words to me. Why are you acting in this way?”

  “Because I am tired of all your interfering and constant demands for money. If it isn’t more building, it is more furniture or gowns or some luxury for Arbella. That child is thoroughly spoilt. Mark my words, she will bring nothing but trouble in the future.”

  “Do not bring my Arbella into this argument!”

  “Are you ever to stop giving me orders? It is not your place to do so. The security of the Scots Queen must come first in all matters. I would have thought you of all people would have appreciated it. But you are so wrapped up in all your business dealings …” he throws some of the desk papers in the air, “… that you forget I am your lord and master. It is I who have elevated you to the status of countess and this is the gratitude you show me. It is an outrage that I am so belittled by you. There can only be one head of the household and that is I. You would do well to remember it. I wonder that your other husbands were so badly abused by you. Perhaps it sent them to early graves, all of them.”

  Bess visibly pales at these words and when she replies her voice trembles with emotion.

  “I never forget that you are my lord and master. I have always held you in the highest esteem, but you have no right to speak of what passed between my husbands and myself. Since all of them have left me proof of their love and devotion by their bequests after death, it is clear that they at least, considered me to be a honourable wife. Your words have hurt me deeply.”