‘Lightning jumped, Mama, and I fell. I’m sorry. It was silly.’ His eyelids fluttered closed and he let out a huge sigh. Horrified, Lettice waited for him to breathe in again, shaking his shoulders as she tried not to cry, but his tiny chest remained still. She began to scream, rocking the unresponsive boy back and forth, and Thomas rushed to her side.
‘Bring Robin,’ screamed Lettice, ‘Find him and bring him here. I don’t care where he is,’ she swallowed and took another shuddering breath, ‘or who he’s with. He must be here. Now, he must be here.’ Her voice broke and she began to sob into her son’s dark curls.
Jane looked at Thomas, who towered over them trembling like an elm in the wind. ‘Bring him as soon as you can, Thomas, and then send Tom for my mother.’
***
Lettice sat in the darkening room, with a huge fire burning in the grate. She was cold. Her eyes were closed and she held herself motionless, but her ears were listening for hoofs and booted feet. She felt that she had been waiting forever, although she knew it would only have been an hour or so. After they had had the fire lit and the drapes closed, she had dismissed the girls so she could be on her own for a while, but she was so cold.
For the hour she had been sitting in the huge chair, she had been going over in her mind what she would say when Robert came to her, but she couldn’t think of anything. Her mind was numb, and she was so cold. When she had lost babies before, tiny scraps of humanity sliding from her body half-formed and covered in blood, she had mourned their passing, and each one had remained as a scar on her heart. But this, this was an open would that might never heal.
For either of them.
The sound of boots in the gallery made her start. She hadn’t heard the horses first, so she was taken by surprise when the door burst open and Robert rushed into the room.
‘I’m cold, Robin.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper, and he swept her out of the chair into his arms, then sat down and cradled her in his lap as he always had when she was upset.
‘I shall warm you, Lily, and then you can tell me what happened.’ His low voice was rough.
She nodded into his shoulder and drew a shuddering breath, trying to swallow over the tears that swamped her throat. Her hand burrowed inside his doublet and shirt onto his skin, and she shivered.
Trying to find her voice, she swallowed again, ‘He fell, Robin. The horse was startled, even on the leading rein, and he fell. He said he was silly, and then he closed his eyes.’ She shivered again and Robert tightened his hold on her, trying to warm her with his body heat.
‘Where is he, my love?’ She could hear the tightness in his throat as he carefully controlled his voice to speak, and she knew what this was costing him.
‘I put him to bed, Robin. He must be cold, so I snuggled him down with his quilt.’ Robert nodded, unable to say anything else for the moment. Lettice dragged another shaky breath.
‘What shall I do, Robin?’ It was a long moment before he answered.
‘We shall take him to Warwick, my love. To the family vault. To be with his uncles.’ She nodded her understanding.
‘Yes, Robin. I knew that. I knew you would want that. But what shall I do? Now I don’t have Robbie to look after, what shall I do? What use am I, now I am no longer his mother?’ Her voice finally broke and she began to cry, not loudly, or hysterically, just a keening weeping, tears coursing down her cheeks and soaking Robert’s shoulder.
‘You must be strong, my love. You must be strong for me, and put your trust in God.’
‘God? Trust God? Where is God in this?’ Lettice’s voice through her tears became harsh and rasping, and Robert looked at her in surprise as she abruptly sat up and dashed tears away with her kerchief.
‘He must have a reason for taking our beautiful boy to himself, Lily. We must trust in his plan for us.’ Lettice gave a derisive snort, and blotted yet more tears.
‘God has no plan for us, Robin. We are beneath his concern, mere ants that he plays with, showing favour or displeasure as he chooses. Robbie’s accident was just that, a twist of fate that couldn’t be predicted or avoided. But don’t tell me it was part of God’s plan, or that I should put my trust in him, for I cannot trust something that would take my son from me.’ Lettice collapsed into more tears and Robert held her tightly for a long time.
***
A soft scratching came at the door and Robert gathered a sleeping Lettice, still shuddering with sobs though she slept, and placed her gently in the huge chair. He strode to the door, rubbing his hand over his face and dashing moisture from his own eyes. He blew a shuddering breath and opened the portal a crack, not wanting to disturb his slumbering wife.
‘Thomas.’ Robert gazed into the stricken face of his oldest friend, knowing that the man was suffering the pain of loss as deeply as he and Lettice were.
‘My Lord.’ Thomas’ normally terse voice was cracking with emotion and Robert could hear him supress a cough as he spoke, ‘I have shot the horse, my Lord.’
‘What?’
‘The horse the little Lord fell from. I have shot it.’ Thomas was trembling and Robert clasped him by the arm, gazing into the sorrowful blue eyes, Robert nodded once, in understanding. That it hadn’t been the horse’s fault was irrelevant to Thomas, and Robert knew exactly how the older man felt; something needed to be blamed.
Robert opened the door a little wider for Thomas to enter, and he watched as the manservant’s eyes found Lettice asleep in the chair and filmed again with grief. Robert took a deep breath and hastened over to the dresser, grasping paper and pen quickly, and scratching out a note. Sanding and folding it, he held it out.
‘Take this letter to the Queen, Thomas. Give it to Cathy Howard or one of my sisters. Tell them what has happened, and ask them to give this to the Queen.’ He looked directly at his manservant, ‘It tells her I shall be away from court for a while, so you might want to warn whoever takes it to her that she may not be pleased.’ Robert shrugged, ‘Sometimes there are more important things than pleasing the Queen, my friend.’ Thomas nodded and tucked the parchment inside his jacket.
‘And ask Tom to bring his mother here, would you? I think my wife would benefit from seeing her.’ Robert poured himself a cup of ale and swallowed harshly.
‘He has already left, my Lord. She will be here when the Countess wakes.’
‘Thank you, Thomas.’ Robert clasped Thomas on the shoulder and bowed his head briefly, then released him, patting his back. ‘God speed, old friend.’
Chapter 42
eaning his forehead on the cool glass in the casement window of his bedchamber, Robert gazed out over the tranquil parkland of Kenilworth. Within his field of vision was the vast tract of forest where the Queen loved to ride and hunt, and beyond that the huge lake that stocked the fish they dined upon. The Queen had written him a brief note telling him that his company was missed at court. Just that. There had been no offer of condolence for his loss; that would have meant including Lettice in the condolences, and he knew Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge her existence, much less offer comfort for the loss of a child.
He could hear Lettice’s even breathing from the depths of their enormous bed and knew she slept simply to escape the crushing sorrow that dogged them both every day. Robert would sleep if he could, but the discomfort in his stomach refused to go away. After they had taken their son’s body to the family vault in Warwick, they had travelled to Buxton in Derbyshire to avail themselves of the medicinal waters there. It was an opinion held by many eminent physicians that the waters had healing properties, and it passed some time for them to mourn their loss together, away from the court, or their friends in London.
When their sojourn at Buxton was at an end, the
y had travelled slowly back to Kenilworth. They stayed for a few nights with Sir Ambrose and Lady Elizabeth before they reached their country home, to give Grace and William time to prepare for their arrival. Thomas and Jane had travelled with them, but Robert had insisted that Tom remain in London to be nearby for Ursula’s confinement.
While they had been away from the capital, Nell had borne a daughter she had named Lettice, Thea had borne a son, Henry, and Ursula had also had a daughter whom she had called Margaret. Lettice had been genuinely thrilled for all of them, and had commented on how busy Meg must have been helping to deliver three babies in swift succession.
Robert heard Lettice sigh quietly and turn in the bed. Looking across, he saw her watching him and smiling as she held out her hand to him. He rose swiftly and took her hand, stretching out beside her in the huge tester bed.
‘Did you have a good sleep, my love?’ His breath ghosted over her cheek as he kissed her knuckles. She nodded silently and he heard her swallow.
‘Did you dream?’ Another nod, this one as she burrowed her head in his chest and he felt the dampness of tears through his silk shirt as they slid from her closed eyes. A whisper, that he had to hold his breath to hear.
‘He still lives in my dreams, Robin. And in that moment when I wake, I forget he is not here. Until I remember….’ Her voice trailed away and he heard her gulp back a sob.
‘Hush, Lily. Sleep again and I will hold you while you do.’ He heard her swallow again and felt her small nod. He shifted himself on the bed so she was encircled within his arms and her head pillowed on his chest. More dampness spread through his shirt and he felt the chill on his skin. The late summer air was mild and balmy, but neither of them ever seemed to be warm.
Eventually he felt her breathing deepen and he knew she was asleep again. As he closed his own eyes he thought about how much longer he could avoid taking them back to the capital, determining that they would spend another week at Kenilworth, then return slowly back to their lives. Everything would be different upon their return, and he had no wish to hurry.
***
Rob gazed round the stable yard at the palace, trying to stay out of the way as much as he could. Essex was preparing to leave for Ireland, and Rob would prefer not to see him before he left. Had he known that the stables were so busy, he would not have arranged his assignation there. As he ducked into one of the stalls quickly to avoid a troop of soldiers riding out towards the courtyard he saw Tom Sadler grooming his horse.
‘Good morrow, Tom,’ he nodded affably. Tom had never been less than pleasant with him, and the fact that Essex disliked Tom as much as he disliked Rob meant they were united in a common cause.
‘Rob. How goes it with you?’ Tom smiled as he continued to brush the horse’s rump carefully. Rob watched him for a while, keeping his gaze roaming the far end of the stable for the object of his meeting.
‘Well enough, Tom. I shall be glad when Essex is gone, I have to say. But I have enjoyed my time with Master Dee. I have learned much from the man.’
‘Your father will be back at court soon, Rob. Did you know?’ Tom raised his brows and Rob shook his head. ‘Letty wrote to my mother to say they will be back by the end of next week.’
‘The Queen will be pleased, Tom. With Essex leaving, she will be wanting someone to tease and bait, and I am sure that will be my illustrious father upon his return.’ Rob compressed his mouth into a line and shrugged. Tom snorted a laugh.
‘Don’t let the way the Queen treats Lord Robert in public mislead you, Rob. He is still her closest friend and advisor, and she relies on his counsel in everything. That’s why everyone hates him, despite him being one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I know.’
‘And that is probably why the Queen has been so unpredictable for these past few weeks, Tom. Her ladies have certainly suffered from her bad humour. Why, ….’ Rob caught sight of the smile in Tom’s eyes as he spoke of the Queen’s ladies and stopped speaking. ‘Why the smile, Tom?’ he asked.
‘I was just wondering which of the Queen’s ladies had been talking to you of her bad humours, Rob.’ Tom grinned and followed the line of Rob’s vision, as his attention had suddenly been snagged by movement at the far door of the stable block. A shimmer of white and silver silk appeared briefly in the gloom then disappeared again as the sun shone through the door and reflected the silver trim on the soldier’s spurs and saddles lining up in the far yard.
‘Ah,’ whispered Tom, ‘that one.’ He looked Rob directly in the eye and his mouth quirked ruefully, ‘Another reason you are pleased to see the back of Essex, yes? With even his new wife not being sufficient to distract him from the pursuit of Mistress Eliza?’
Rob snorted derisively, ‘Vain pursuit, Tom. But with his moods being what they are, and Kytt not being here to divert him, she has found it difficult to keep out of his way. Now he is going, she won’t have to.’ Tom nodded and continued to brush the horse’s tail vigorously.
‘I shall let you go then, Rob. From her gown, she should be elsewhere, so you may not have long.’ Rob sketched a bow with a grin and began walking towards the far end of the stable, where he could see the shine of silk shrouded by the gloom.
‘Oh, Tom. Congratulations on your daughter, my friend,’ Rob walked backwards as he offered his best wishes and Tom laughed.
‘Thank you, Rob. I thank God she is safe and well, and that she looks like her mother.’
Rob’s yelp of laughter was suddenly stilled as he reached the far end of the block and turned into the final stall, and Tom led the horse he was grooming out into the sunshine to give his friend some privacy.
***
The golden autumn sunlight shone through the window of Lettice’s solar at Leicester House as she dozed on the chaise. Alice had helped her rise, but Lettice seldom had the energy to dress, so had compromised with a fresh cotton lawn nightgown and her burgundy velvet robe. After forcing a little fruit past her lips, much to Cissy’s concern that she wasn’t eating enough, Lettice had wandered into her solar and fallen into a light sleep on the chaise.
They had been back in London for a week, and Robert had returned to his duties at court. Lettice had written notes that Jane had delivered, asking to be left alone for a few more days before receiving visitors. Until she had a reason to be sociable, Lettice had decided she would rather be alone. Dimly, through her doze, she heard the door latch twist and then the gentle slap of leather scabbard on boots. She tried to make her eyes open but failed, although she did manage to sigh a huge breath.
‘Thomas?’
‘Countess.’
‘Kytt!’ Lettice’s eyes flew open and she pushed herself up on the chaise to see Kytt standing over her, anguish in his blue eyes.
‘Countess, I had to come. To tell you…..’ his voice broke and Lettice reached and took his hand.
‘You don’t need to tell me, Kytt. I know. And it pleases me to see you after so long.’
‘And I, you, my Lady. I came as soon as I heard, but news was slow to reach me where I have been, so I couldn’t come any earlier. I am truly sorry I couldn’t come earlier. Be by your side to….’ His voice failed again and Lettice tugged on his hand to make him sit beside her.
‘I am still glad you came, Kytt. Have you been back in England long?’
‘No, my Lady. We docked last night and I rode to give the information from Master Mason to my Lord Burleigh, then I came here once I woke. I did not think you would see me late last night, and my Uncle was reluctant to let me disturb you now, but he…… relented.’ His mouth quirked at the memory.
‘Dear Thomas. This has been as difficult for him as for us, I feel. Yet he still goes about his duties as he ever did.’ Lettice smiled at Kytt then realised she still
held his hand, and let it go hurriedly, patting it as she did so to cover her confusion.
‘We have only just returned to London ourselves, Kytt. I missed saying farewell to Essex before he set off for Ireland, and I haven’t yet begun receiving visitors.’ She looked at him and beamed, ‘You are my first, Kytt. And that is a comfort.’
Kytt took her hand and kissed the back, ‘That pleases me, my Lady. And if there is anything I can do to help, anything at all, it would be an honour.’
‘Thank you, Kytt. You have already helped more than you know. Will you be returning abroad?’
‘No, my Lady. I rather think the information I have brought has rendered any further travels unnecessary. I shall have to seek employment elsewhere now I have returned.’
Lettice patted his arm determinedly, ‘I shall speak to Robin, Kytt. I am sure there will be something. And until you establish yourself, you will stay with us.’ As Kytt took a breath to protest, Lettice held up a tiny hand and shook her head.
‘You are as family, Kytt. You will stay here. Keeping family close is important, recent events have shown me that,’ Lettice stopped and swallowed hard, blinking away the tears that filmed her eyes, ‘and your visit today has also shown me that I should push down my grief and concentrate on the rest of my family.’ She dimpled at him with lashes starred with tears, and he kissed her knuckles again.
‘Thank you, my Lady. I shall leave you now and return to court. I am sure my Lord Burleigh will have many questions about the information I have brought.’ Kytt rose, giving a final kiss to Lettice’s hand, and bowed gracefully.
‘I look forward to seeing you later then, Sir Kytt,’ Lettice beamed as she gave him his title, and his mouth quirked slightly. ‘Would you ask your Uncle to come to me, please? And for him to send Alice and Jane? I need to dress, and I need to resume my duties as Robin’s wife.’
As she watched Kytt leave the room, Lettice pushed back the grief to which she longed to submit. Perhaps if she ignored it during the day, she might give in to it at night, but she had to get back to her life, and sleeping it away wasn’t what Robin needed from her. She stood and walked towards her dressing room, unfastening her robe as she walked and thinking which gown she would wear today.
On the Altar of England (Tudor Chronicles Book 4) Page 33