‘And the baby? Robin, I cannot leave him behind.’ Lettice’s voice began to crack and he hurried to her side to reassure her.
‘Lily, our son will be with us. And your ladies, and Thomas, and anyone else you wish to take. I have organised the Royal Progress for years; I cannot think taking my household to the Low Countries will be more complicated than that.’ He sipped his ale and took a piece of bread from the tray, chewing slowly. Then he began to chuckle in amusement and fixed Lettice with a conspiratorial look.
‘You might want to arrange for Ursula to marry Tom before we go, my love. I would want no scandal to touch my household while abroad.’ Lettice dimpled at him and nodded eagerly.
‘That will be lovely, Robin. Shall there be time?’ As he nodded his assent she carried on, ‘But Jane and Dickon are too young to marry yet, although they shall come with us, but Nell couldn’t leave her husband. Oh, Robin, shall I miss Nell’s confinement?’
He shook his head smilingly, ‘I doubt it, my love. She only has a little time left, I think. We shall have at least eight weeks before the troops are anywhere near ready to depart. And after her babe is born, I would imagine Lady Meg will help her as much as she needs.’ Lettice nodded happily.
‘Give notice to your dressmaker, Lily. They have eight weeks to make your new gowns before we leave, and in that time they need to deliver an outfit for you to wear to a wedding. I shall arrange for the banns and the chapel for Tom, and let Sir Ralph know the details. We shall both be busy.’
‘Ursula has had her trousseau stitched for weeks, so that is one thing we can cross off the list.’ Robert smiled as Lettice rose and came to him, sliding her hands beneath his doublet onto the silk of his shirt as she held him close. ‘Oh, Robin. To be going abroad with just you and our family will be like a dream come true.’ She placed her head in the middle of his chest and he dropped a kiss on her hair.
‘Just our family, my love, and a few thousand of the Queen’s troops. Hardly anyone at all,’ and Lettice held him tightly as his laughter boomed in his chest.
***
Three weeks later Ursula stood nervously waiting for Jane and Lettice and Meg to arrange her gown in the side room at St. George’s Chapel at Windsor.
She had chosen a pale peach silk gown, embroidered in a darker apricot shade with tiny blossoms and leaves silhouetted in silver thread. From the modestly scooped neckline of her bodice sprang her ruff, arching round the back of her elegantly coiffed hair, made of gossamer-thin embroidered lawn and edged with guipure lace. Her sleeves were edged with matching swathes of lace that fell elegantly over her hands.
‘Ursula, you look beautiful, my dear.’ Meg smiled at the girl who would soon become her daughter-in-law. ‘Your father will be proud to escort you.’
Ursula held Meg’s hand and smiled, nerves making her fingers tremble and her lips unable to form words.
‘I hope my dress is as lovely when I marry Dickon,’ whispered Jane as she tucked tiny peach-coloured silk rosebuds into Ursula’s upswept hair, and Ursula’s bottom lip began to tremble and tears fill her eyes.
‘No, no crying, poppet,’ scolded Lettice, bringing a loosely tied posy of roses for Ursula to hold. ‘Tears make a dreadful mess on silk, and we won’t have time to lace you into another gown.’ Ursula’s threat of tears disappeared as she giggled at Lettice’s pragmatic words and took the flowers. She let out a huge breath and nodded at Jane to open the door so she could take her father’s arm and walk down the aisle to Tom.
Sir John Sherrington took his daughter’s hand and kissed her fingers before placing her hand on his arm.
‘You look lovely, my dear. Now come, everyone is waiting.’ Ursula gazed up at her father with huge eyes as Lettice, Meg and Jane slipped out of the room and down to their own seats in the body of the chapel.
‘Robin, the poor girl is petrified with nerves,’ whispered Lettice as she reached Lord Robert at the front of the church. He nodded to the groom, stood in front of the priest with his hand on the hilt of his sword.
‘So is he.’
Tom stood in his best doublet of the softest Italian buckskin, vertically striped with bands of gleaming black braided leather alternating with reversed plain strips. The sleeves were slashed with black silk and he wore it over a white cotton lawn shirt with a small ruffled collar.
He gazed in wonder as Ursula walked towards him on the arm of her father. She reached him and he smiled and they both turned to the priest who began to intone the marriage service.
‘Who gives this woman to be married to this man?’ Ursula’s father placed her hand on Tom’s, quietly saying ‘I do,’ before retreating hastily to the side of his wife. Ursula smiled shyly as the priest continued speaking.
‘If there is anyone here present that knows of a reason why this man and this woman may not be joined in Holy Matrimony, then let him speak now or forever hold his peace,’ the priest paused briefly as was usual in the service, then took a breath to continue.
‘I have a reason,’ a voice boomed like the shot from a cannon at the back of the church, and everyone gasped and turned their heads in unison. In the dim light from the high windows, dust motes swirling in the thin beams of sunshine, the shadow of a man could be seen. Tall, richly garbed in a velvet cloak and matching jewel-encrusted cap, the figure stood with his hands on his hips and his legs planted wide apart.
‘I was not damned well invited,’ the voice boomed again, and Tom, eyes wide with first shock, and then exasperation, shook his head.
‘Ed Knollys! Sit down, man, for goodness sake. You’ve frightened Ursula almost to death.’ The loud, booming laughter of Ed could be heard reverberating around the vaulted ceiling as he took a seat at the rear of the church and a collective sigh went through the gathering as the priest resumed the service. Tom rolled his eyes at Ursula, who let out a trembling breath before giving her attention to the priest.
***
‘God’s blood, Ed. You frightened us all out of our wits.’ Lettice swatted her brother as hard as she was able and he rubbed his arm ruefully as he laughed.
‘I’m sorry, sis. I rode as hard as I could from Plymouth, and I thought I would be here before the service began, but those blessed wagons were so heavy with all that gold, we kept getting the wheels trapped in the mud.’ Ed’s loud voice carried across the room where the wedding guests had gathered for refreshments.
‘Then why not creep in and sit down quietly, like a reasonable person would? Instead of nearly making poor Ursula faint away at her own wedding?’ Lettice’s furious whisper was getting louder and Ed’s mirth at the trick he had successfully achieved was increasing her anger and irritation.
‘Because it amused me to tease Tom, sis. And I couldn’t not attend the wedding of my best friend to the woman who could have had me, had she more sense.’ Ed burst into more paroxysms of laughter and Lettice swatted him again feebly and shook her head in frustration at her brother’s idea of a jest. Robert brought them some wine and handed goblets to his wife and his brother-in-law.
‘Spanish gold in the wagons, my Lord?’ asked Robert, and Ed sipped his wine and nodded, smiling grimly.
‘Indeed, and much of it, my Lord. Drake sent a note to her Majesty telling her how much he had sto….., er…, how much he had liberated from the clutches of the Spanish, and she bade him bring it to London with all haste.’ Ed grinned at Robert in satisfaction.
‘And that gold, my love, is what will send us abroad.’ Robert held his ale cup to Lettice and she dimpled at him and dipped a mocking curtsey.
‘Abroad, sis? Where abroad?’ Ed’s brows rose, and Lettice told him all about Robert’s acceptance of the Governorship and their plans to move to the Low Countries for a time.
‘Ah,
that would explain the haste of this wedding then,’ Ed indicated the large gathering, ‘and not the bride’s condition.’ Lettice gasped in horror and Ed exploded in mirth again, shaking his head in apology. ‘Forgive me, Letty. I still think I am in the company of rough men. I will go and congratulate the happy couple, and I promise I will be good.’ He bowed briefly to them both and sauntered over to Tom and Ursula, deep in conversation with both sets of parents. Lettice sighed and shook her head as she watched her brother’s broad back.
‘Is that why we have been waiting, Robin? For Spanish gold?’ Lettice turned huge eyes on her husband, who stroked her cheek gently and smiled at her.
‘In the main, my love. I must have enough funds to equip the troops, but I must also take enough with me to pay them. I would not have them wait for Burleigh or Walsingham to decide they deserve their coin. I have been a soldier, my love, and I know what poor treatment does to the morale of fighting men. I would not have the situation that faced poor Philip apply to me.’
Lettice sipped her wine thoughtfully. ‘Nell will be delivering her babe within the week, Robin, I’m sure. She is carrying so low now, I cannot think she will be above a few days. That is why she chose not to come today.’
‘Then you will meet your first grandchild before we depart, Lily. Although how I am going to manage to share a bed with someone’s grandmother, I shudder to think.’
Lettice smothered a shriek with her goblet and narrowed her eyes at Robert as he chuckled helplessly at her wrath. Taking the goblet from her fingers and clasping her hands together before she could swat him like she had her brother, he bent her backwards over his arm.
Oblivious to the surprised looks of the other wedding guests he kissed her just below her ear, whispering devilishly as he did so, ‘But it will be interesting to find out, my love,’ then captured her lips briefly before setting her on her feet and returning to the celebration.
Chapter 36
aying back on the pillows, Nell gave one last great groan and felt the child slither from her body. Feeling her nightgown clinging to her sweat-soaked frame, she closed her eyes in relief her ordeal was ended.
‘That’s the way, sweetheart,’ said Meg, wiping Nell’s hot face with a cool linen cloth, ‘rest for now.’ Nell heard her baby mewling and whimpering and Meg bent her lips to Nell’s ear, whispering, ‘You have a beautiful son.’
Nell kept her eyes closed as Meg again cooled her skin with the cloth, but spoke tiredly, ‘Who does he favour, Mother?’
‘You, poppet. He looks like you did when you were born, all round and rosy.’ Nell heard the smile in her mother’s voice and knew she was holding the child.
‘What will you name him, Nell?’ Jane’s gentle tones came from further away, as she gathered up the soiled linens strewn round the room. Nell’s eyes remained closed as she answered.
‘Riche said if it was a boy, we would name him Henry. I would have chosen the name for a daughter.’ Nell shrugged slightly, ‘His name makes no matter to me,’ then gasped a surprised breath as another contraction came. She felt Meg’s hand on her belly and a tugging up high inside, then heard Meg speak softly.
‘Once this is out, sweetheart, we can clean you and put you in a fresh nightgown. Then you can hold your son.’ Nell nodded and then felt a sudden rush of fluid between her legs and heard Meg murmur in satisfaction.
In her dark world she heard something slap wetly into a bowl, then she heard muffled voices at the door as Meg handed the soiled linens and bowls to the maid. Nell submitted to the ministrations of Jane as she washed her hot skin and then dropped a clean, sweet-smelling nightgown over her head and helped her into the sleeves without Nell having to open her eyes. She smelt her mother’s perfume by her side and she summoned the energy to whisper in a low tone.
‘And now he’s out, Mother, Riche will want to put another in me as soon as he can.’
Lettice sighed and Nell opened her eyes reluctantly. Lettice handed her a swaddled bundle gently, and as Nell looked down she saw the round face of her son, eyes closed and mouth puckered.
‘Well, poppet. You have six weeks before you are blessed. That will give you a few more weeks to recover.’ Lettice kept her tone light but gentle as she watched her daughter gaze at the baby. A tear escaped Nell’s eye and rolled down her cheek.
‘Frances will be delivered of Philip’s child soon,’ she gulped, trying not to burst into the noisy tears that threatened every time she thought about Philip. Nell swallowed hard and Jane brought her a cup of ale to soothe the lump in her throat. She sipped gratefully, ‘And Bess.’
‘Bess, pet? Bess who?’ Lettice’s tone rose slightly and Nell thought she could hear nerves in her mother’s usual calm demeanour.
‘Oh Mother, don’t tell me Papa hasn’t told you? Everyone knows she is having Raleigh’s child.’ Meg and Jane both gasped audibly, and Lettice raised her brows.
‘Everyone?’
Nell handed her son into her mother’s arms and sank gratefully back into the pillows.
‘Well, everyone but the Queen. And Essex said they were wed, but I don’t know what will happen when she finds out. As one of the Queen’s ladies, Bess should have had permission.’
Lettice’s attitude became uncharacteristically sharp, ‘Hmmph, Elizabeth only sees what she wants to see, and she will want vengeance, that is certain.’
They fell silent as a soft knock came at the door, and the wet-nurse Nell had asked Lettice to engage came to take the baby for his first feed. Lettice placed her grandson into the capable arms of the wet-nurse, who then slipped out of the door towards the nursery. Nell closed her eyes again and Jane put a damp cloth over them sympathetically. Nell spoke in a hushed whisper, ‘Banishment, then.’
Lettice snorted her contempt and said flatly, ‘If she feels merciful, perhaps. If she wants to make an example, then it will be worse.’
***
Elizabeth sat in her bed-chamber as patiently as she could while Beth Leighton dusted her face with the powder Nell had left before her confinement. Then Beth moistened a thin brush with vinegar and dipped it in the pot of soot combined with lanolin to darken the Queen’s sparse lashes and fair brows. Finally Beth used a clean brush to paint the Queen’s lips with the tinted salve Nell had discovered. Elizabeth gazed into the mirror on her dresser and viewed Beth’s handiwork.
‘Well done, Lady Leighton. Your niece has taught you well.’ Elizabeth nodded her dismissal and Beth curtseyed and withdrew. Elizabeth watched the rest of her ladies with narrow eyes as they moved round the chamber, hanging up discarded garments, bundling up linens to be taken to the laundry and choosing the accessories that the Queen would need before she left her chamber. As Elizabeth looked at the room behind her through the glass, she caught sight of Bess Throckmorton bend to pick up her fan, then straighten and rub her back surreptitiously.
As she bent backwards to do this, Elizabeth saw her gown cling to the front of her figure, and despite the tight lacing and the high hoop which sat just below her bosom, there was no mistaking her pregnant belly. Elizabeth was amazed that she hadn’t noticed before, but other than to make sure they were all in shades of white if they were on duty with her, Elizabeth found she took very little notice of her ladies other than expect them to serve her.
Her favourites she conversed with, Cathy Howard for instance, or one of Cat’s daughters, but mostly she spoke with the gentlemen of the court, or her ministers. She had never sought the company of other women, and after Cat’s death, had never wanted to rely on someone so completely that their death would cause her heart to break. She had experienced enough heartbreak in her life, had sacrificed more than any other woman would have done; the man she loved, the possibility of marriage and motherhood, all on the altar of England.
/> She would not be disobeyed in her own court.
Through the glass she watched as Bess walked towards her carefully. Now she had confirmed it with her own eyes, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed before how Bess moved with such care, keeping her balance cautiously and moving warily around the room. Bess reached her side and held out the fan. Abruptly Elizabeth moved and, being seated, caught Bess on the belly with her shoulder. Bess gasped audibly and pressed her hand to her distended stomach. Elizabeth allowed her eyes to widen in astonishment and she jumped to her feet, glaring at the offending belly then raising her eyes to see a terrified Bess backing away.
Elizabeth’s hand snaked out swiftly and she slapped Bess’s cheek. All her ladies gasped in dismay and Elizabeth glowered them into silence.
‘You are dishonoured, Mistress Throckmorton,’ hissed Elizabeth as Bess clutched her injured cheek and tried to blink away the tears. ‘And your dishonour reflects on me and my court.’ Elizabeth allowed her voice to rise angrily.
‘Majesty, I am not dishonoured. I humbly beg your Majesty’s pardon for not asking permission before I took a husband, but this child is not unlawful. I am married.’
‘Married? Married, you say? I have not given my permission for you to marry, so you are not lawfully wed in Our eyes.’
‘But, Majesty, my husband will tell you the priest said we were lawfully wed.’
‘Indeed he might, Mistress, but in the eyes of your Queen, you are dishonoured and he is responsible. It is fitting that you will both share the punishment.’
The ladies all gasped again, and Bess started to weep in earnest, clasping her hands together beseechingly as she dropped to her knees to plead with the intractable Queen.
‘Please, your Majesty. I beg you, please don’t banish us. We both want to serve you and we will both earn your forgiveness.’ Elizabeth stared at the sobbing girl as if she were speaking a foreign language.
On the Altar of England (Tudor Chronicles Book 4) Page 28