aying her letters aside, and trying not to worry about the content, Lettice got to her feet and made her way down the stairs to the courtyard. From the window along the long gallery which overlooked the stable yard she could see Thomas and Robbie, together with Kytt and Tom watching the soldiers return, with Robert and Essex and a few others at their centre.
She reached the doorway to the courtyard and stopped for a moment, looking out into the yard bathed in bright sunshine and hazy with the dust from the hooves of the horses that whickered and whinnied as the soldiers dismounted. Lettice could see Thomas trying to still the excitement of Robbie as the child caught sight of his father amongst other richly clad nobles, and Kytt laughing heartily at whatever her voluble son was saying.
Realising that her silken slippers were unsuitable for crossing the stable yard, Lettice made her way warily round the wall of the house, avoiding the piles of dung that hadn’t yet been swept away. Raising her hems, she picked her way over the uneven grass verge, avoiding the sleeping kitchen cat basking in the sunshine. As she got nearer to the knot of men now dismounted and congregated around Robert, she heard the clear tones of her little son.
‘Who are you, my Lord?’ Lettice watched Robbie gaze upwards into the amused face of Essex, who snatched off his feathered hat and made a courtly bow to the child.
‘I am Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, my Lord. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?’ Essex straightened and watched as Robbie made his own bow, as courtly as a three-year old could muster.
‘Robert Dudley, Lord Denbigh at your service, sir.’ Lettice pressed her lips together tightly to contain the laugh bubbling up inside her throat, and watched silently as the other men hid their own smiles.
‘If that is the case, my Lord, then you are my brother.’ Essex replaced his hat and shrugged negligently, eyes widening at the swift retort from the small boy in front of him.
‘Are you sure? Mama says my brother serves the Queen, with my two sisters.’
The doubtful tone Robbie used almost made Lettice laugh out loud, and she put her knuckles up to her mouth to stifle her mirth. Robert, she saw, had turned away with shaking shoulders, and was fiddling with his stirrup while Thomas and Kytt watched impassively, although the corners of both their mouths were twitching. Essex let out a yelp of laughter.
‘That I do, my Lord. I serve at Court upon the pleasure of our Queen. And your Mama is also my Mama, so I am quite sure we are brothers.’
Robbie fixed him with a stare and then looked round the yard, saying doubtfully, ‘She is with you then, the Queen?’ Essex huffed a surprised laugh and Lettice made her way towards her sons, ready to intervene should Essex lose patience with the boy’s questions. She watched as he bowed again, and she slowed her pace slightly.
‘No, my Lord, the Queen is in England.’ Lettice saw Essex’s lips twitch at the immediate rejoinder from Robbie.
‘You should have brought her, my Lord. She owes Papa money to pay her soldiers.’ A gasp went up from the adults eavesdropping on the conversation, but Essex allowed his brows to rise in surprise.
‘Perhaps she fears for her safety, as we are at risk of border skirmishes here. And does she indeed owe money, my Lord?’ Robbie nodded his little head firmly, eyes wide.
‘She does, my Lord. And we could have protected her. My Papa and Thomas and Tom all have swooords, and you, my Lord, and your friend there, all have swooords. I shall have a real swooord when I am five.’ Robbie spread his fingers and gazed round as he spoke, and Lettice realised he had seen her walking quietly towards him. As she watched he took another breath, ‘So why are you here, my Lord?’
Lettice picked Robbie up in her arms, and then moved towards Essex, who allowed her to kiss his cheek. Essex met Robbie’s gaze again, and bowed slightly, smiling.
‘The Queen has sent us to bring Lord Robert some coin for the soldiers as you say, my Lord. And to help defend against the Spanish incursions into the Netherlands.’
Robbie nodded sagely at this response and Lettice began to move away from the group, taking Robbie back inside to his nurse. Kytt stepped in front of her quickly.
‘Allow me, my Lady. The boy will be heavy for you.’ Robbie gazed up at Kytt solemnly.
‘I am very heavy, my Lord, and I make Mama’s arms ache. But who are you?’
‘I am Kytt, my Lord. We met when you were a baby. You rode on my foot, quite a journey as I recall. Thomas is my uncle and I am pleased to see him.’
Robbie stretched his arms out from Lettice’s grasp into Kytt’s. ‘Take me inside, my Lord. I would show you the swooord your uncle made for me. Where do you wear your dagger, my Lord? Your uncle has told me ……..’ Robbie’s voice faded away as Kytt took him inside and Lettice turned a smiling face to see Robert by her side.
‘You are returned early from your meeting, Robin. Did the ambassadors agree to your terms?’ He brushed her cheek with his lips and whispered in her ear.
‘Essex has brought the wages for my soldiers, Lily. It is more important to pay the men than speak with ambassadors. But they left me a message that there is trouble brewing at Bergen op Zoom. Once the men are paid we may need to muster the troops towards there.’
‘A battle, Robin?’ Lettice shivered at the thought of people she loved being in danger.
‘A skirmish, my love. No more. Once the men have coin, they will fight all the harder so they might live and spend it. We won’t be gone long.’
***
Dearest Kit
Robin tells me we will be home soon. I can’t wait. I have been very happy here but I so long to see you all again, and my grandsons, that we cannot leave soon enough.
The Queen wrote to Robin to congratulate him on the success of the skirmish (I think it was rather more than that, although our losses weren’t severe) but says, or rather Burleigh says, that she cannot afford more funds for a foreign war. Now the Prince of Orange is firmly on the throne, and the English have been gifted Flushing and Brill she thinks the trade agreements will be secure. Robin says the Treaty of Joinville between Philip of Spain and the Catholic League will prove problematic eventually, but he refuses to lead unpaid men. I think he has paid some of their wages from his own funds, but he doesn’t know my thoughts about that, and the Queen will not send further remuneration. So we come home.
Robin used the opportunity of the Bergen op Zoom conflict to ennoble some of his soldiery with what he calls ‘field honours’ which he intends to register upon our return. This has had the happy outcome of making Tom Sadler and Kytt Blount into Sir Tom and Sir Kytt, about which we now tease them mercilessly.
We shall be home within the month, dearest Kit, so until I see you again, I remain with much affection
Your friend Letty
***
‘Sweetheart, it is so lovely to see you.’ Meg fluttered her hands and leaned to kiss Lettice’s cheek, then bent to enfold Robbie in a big hug.
‘Forgive us for not giving you much notice, Aunt. We arrived home yesterday afternoon and fell into our beds, but this morning Robin has had to go to the palace, so the girls and I thought we would come and see you.’
‘I thought so too, Mama.’ Robbie clung to Lettice’s hand but gazed with wide eyes at Meg, who dropped to her knees in front of him, smiling.
‘And I am pleased you did, my Lord. Your nephews will enjoy playing their games with another soldier such as yourself, who has experience of foreign conflicts.’ Robbie’s eyes became rounder and he began to bounce on his little feet.
‘My nephews, my Lady? I have nephews here?’ He gazed at Meg and then looked up quizzically at Lettice who beamed at him as she removed her gloves and cloak and handed them to Jennie.
�
�You must call me “Aunt Meg” my Lord, as your mother and nephews do,’ Meg kissed his cheek briefly and took his hand, ‘and you must escort me up these stairs so I can introduce you to the other boys.’ Robbie took her arm and Lettice and the girls followed behind, smothering smiles.
‘They are much younger than you, my Lord, and do not have your experience of the world. You must be patient with them as you teach them the soldiery you have learned,’ Meg continued to talk to Robbie in her gentle voice as they climbed the stairs, and Robbie nodded dutifully.
‘It is the large door there, my Lord. Could you run ahead and open it for me, so I might take my seat. My legs aren’t what they were.’ Robbie let Meg’s arm go and ran to open the door for her, walking into the huge high-ceilinged room that had been the nursery for generations of children.
‘Have you a problem with your legs, Mother?’ asked Jane in a concerned tone as they followed Robbie into the room. Meg’s naturally soft voice dropped even lower.
‘No, Jane, but it got him into the room without thinking if he was nervous, and see, he is pulling out a chair that I might sit.’ Meg nodded to Robbie, ‘Thank you, my Lord. I see your father has taught you his beautiful manners.’ Robbie beamed at her, and bowed.
‘Indeed he has, Aunt Meg. A genuine nobleman always has a care for the ladies in his charge.’
‘How true,’ whispered Lettice, struggling to control the giggle that threatened to burst from her. Robbie walked to the wooden fort, surrounded as it was by painted figures of soldiers.
‘Henry was playing with that until his nurse took him for a nap, Lord Robbie. I am sure he would be grateful if you would set it into battle lines for his return?’
Robbie sat down and immediately began to put the soldiers onto the fort, and Lettice and the girls sat with Meg at the table near the hearth just as Jennie brought ale and sugared fruits for them.
‘How are the boys, Aunt? And my girls?’ Lettice sipped her ale and watched her son with the soldiers.
‘Both boys are well, sweetheart. Healthy and happy. Nell seems to be well in her pregnancy, and Thea hopes to have news to announce soon.’ Lettice’s brows rose and she looked across at Ursula, who was cutting some fruit and trying to avoid anyone’s glance. Lettice nodded.
‘Thea might not be the only one, Aunt,’ and she grinned at Meg’s sharp intake of breath and Ursula’s increasing blush.
‘Oh, sweetheart,’ breathed Meg, ‘I am so pleased. More babies to care for.’ She stood and, taking Ursula by the shoulders, hugged her gently.
The nursemaid opened the door slowly, holding the hand of the small boy toddling by her side. Lettice’s face lit up and she sank into her skirts on the floor and held out her arms. Robbie gazed curiously at the child and then returned to his soldiers.
‘Henry, poppet. How big you are.’ Lettice kept her tone light as the child looked doubtfully at her and hid his face in the skirt of his nursemaid. The girl led him forward and Meg put out her hand for his.
‘Henry, say good morrow to your Grandmama, sweetheart,’ Meg spoke gently to the boy, who gnawed at the side of his thumb and gazed between them solemnly.
‘Henry, I have brought Robbie to play with your soldiers today,’ said Lettice brightly as she jumped to her feet and went over to the fort. Robbie smiled up at his mother and she winked at him.
‘Robbie has just come back from helping his Papa in the conflict in the Netherlands. Will you let him show you some battle strategy?’ Henry nodded owlishly but continued to bite his hand as the nursemaid led him across to the fort.
‘This is the Prince of Orange, and this is my Papa, and these are the soldiers,’ Robbie kept up a commentary of everything he was doing and Henry knelt down by his side and watched him line up the wooden figures. The ladies all watched the little boys, and when Henry finally picked up a soldier, Robbie showed him where to place it. Both boys fell forward on their stomachs and started to move the battle lines, and Lettice sighed.
‘Does he not speak at all, Aunt Meg? Nell said his speech was slow, but…’
‘He whispers the odd word, sweetheart. He does not hold conversations like your young Lord there.’ Meg nodded across as they heard the voice of Robbie continue his commentary, interspersed by breathy whispers from Henry.
Lettice smiled. ‘All the soldiers at the Hague were surprised he was three. He talks so well, and often so knowledgeably.’ She shrugged and smiled again.
‘Because he has your attention, sweetheart, and you are interested in what he has to say. Henry speaks to me sometimes, and to his nurses, but Nell doesn’t seem to listen to him, so he is learning not to bother her.’
‘That makes me sad, Aunt. You shall have to bring them to Leicester House and let them play in Robbie’s nursery. A change of scenery might do the trick.’
Meg nodded towards the boys again, who were both engrossed in defeating the Spanish in the fort. ‘Having someone to play with is obviously bringing him out of his shell, sweetheart. I’m sure you will see a great deal of us all now you are home.’
Lettice beamed at the thought.
Chapter 39
ord Robert, a word if I may, sir.’ Robert stopped in the crowded gallery. Above all the other noise of gossiping courtiers and yapping lap dogs, the stertorious tones of Burleigh rose over the mayhem, the tone made effortless by countless unruly council meetings.
Robert turned and watched the elderly man walk towards him, leaning on his stick and clad as always in a floor length black gown with fur lapels. That Burleigh disliked him and never sought his company made Robert even more curious about the reason he had been hailed. He bowed politely, sweeping his hat off in a gesture of deference.
‘Lord Burleigh. It has been a long time, my Lord.’
Burleigh reached him at last, and Robert pretended not to notice that the old man was struggling to catch his breath.
‘I wanted a word with you before you reached the Audience Chamber, my Lord. Could we go this way?’ Burleigh indicated a door at the end of the gallery to the left of the huge portal to the Queen’s chamber, and a page ran quickly in front to open the door for the two men. Robert winked at the lad and tossed him a silver sixpence, which was greeted by a broad grin and a slight bow.
Robert entered the anteroom and realised it was part of the suite of rooms used by Burleigh as offices for the Crown. Seated at the large desk was Walsingham, and in the vast chair by the hearth sat the Queen, dressed in a simple gown of burgundy damask with a snowy white collar and cuffs. Robert hastened across and bowed courteously.
‘Majesty. It is a surprise.’
‘We wanted to speak privately, my Lord, as soon as you returned. My ladies have been instructed that I have a sick headache and must not be disturbed.’
Burleigh poured himself a goblet of wine and offered the carafe to Robert, who shook his head and helped himself to a cup of ale.
‘We need this to be completely private, my Lord,’ said Burleigh as he moved into the room and pulled the hangings over the doors, preventing both eyes and ears at the keyholes. Robert sipped his ale and looked at Elizabeth with raised brows.
‘We have information,’ hissed Walsingham in his customary serpentine manner, ’that the Scots Queen is in contact with Spain through a servant of hers, one Anthony Babington.’
‘That is not a name I heard in The Hague, Majesty. I sent you the intelligence I learned about Spanish plots, and none of those concerned the Scots Queen.’
Elizabeth nodded and smiled at Robert, ‘We were grateful, my Lord. And the information about an invasion was helpful, wasn’t it Burleigh?’ She looked across at her Chancellor, who pulled his lips into a thin smile and nodded grimly.
‘It has help
ed us begin to prepare, my Lord, and for that we are grateful. But this is a different plot, needing a different sort of information. A different sort of spy, if you will.’
Robert heard Burleigh’s voice take on his council tone, and he raised his eyebrow at Elizabeth, who smothered a smile.
‘And I can help, Majesty?’ Robert tried to direct his question at the Queen to save them all a lecture on foreign policy from Burleigh.
‘You have in your employ someone who can help, my Lord,’ Walsingham hissed, ‘and we wanted to ask for your recommendation before we approach him. We wouldn’t want to ask someone who couldn’t be trusted, now would we?’
‘I trust all those in my employ, my Lord. To whom do you refer?’ Robert searched his mind quickly, trying to think who they might deem suitable for such a role.
‘Sir Christopher Blount.’ Walsingham’s smooth voice gave the answer.
‘Kytt?’ Robert’s voice was louder than he intended in his surprise, and he took another sip of ale to calm his throat and give himself some time to think.
Elizabeth gazed at Robert for a moment, then began to speak. ‘My Lord Burleigh is recommending that we award his father’s command of the Earl Marshall of Ireland to young Essex, my Lord.’ Robert said nothing, but took another long swallow of ale as his mind flitted back and forth, wondering how Lettice would respond to that news, and how someone as hot headed as Essex could be expected to bring calm to a country renowned for rebellion.
‘We understand that Sir Christopher is in the household of the Earl, but paid from your income. That is why we are approaching you, my Lord. We wish him to travel incognito to Spain, but we need your assurances that he can be trusted.’ Elizabeth sipped from her goblet and tilted her head to invite Robert’s response.
‘Majesty, on the matter of trust, I have no hesitation. Kytt is one whom you can trust as you trust me. He has shown nothing but loyalty to me and mine since he joined us. But why do you consider Kytt to be the most suitable for this venture?’
On the Altar of England (Tudor Chronicles Book 4) Page 30