On the Altar of England (Tudor Chronicles Book 4)

by Lesley Jepson

  Chapter 43

  ettice sat on a low stool in her solar, dark blue brocade gown pooling around her, and her copper curls caught up in a sapphire-studded net. She was setting up some battle lines for Henry with the soldiers he loved, as young Charles pulled himself up on the furniture and baby Letty slept in her mother’s arms. Meg sat in the huge fireside chair holding her namesake Margaret while Jane held Thea’s baby Harry. Cissy had brought in a large tray of sugared fruit and sweetmeats, and the ladies laughed and gossiped as the children played and the babies slept.

  ‘Is Uncle Ralph back for good now, Aunt?’ asked Lettice as Henry attacked her Spanish soldiery with his brave English knights, knocking them noisily out of his way as he tried to capture the castle.

  ‘I think so, sweetheart. He had to accompany Lord Shrewsbury from Yorkshire to bring the Scots Queen south. Now she is installed in Fotheringhay Castle, he has paid the troops and the household to guard and care for her, so now he has to join the Privy Council to decide what is to happen next.’

  ‘Next, Mother?’ Jane’s soft voice carried over the noise of the battle waging on the floor.

  ‘The Council will have to decide, sweetheart. The information they received from Thomas Mason proves that she was involved in the plot. She signed the papers herself this time. Ralph said that was Kytt’s task, to find out if she signed anything, and bring it to Burleigh if she had.’

  The ladies shook their head at the folly of the Scots Queen, and Lettice snorted a laugh.

  ‘Do you remember how foolish my mother thought she was, Aunt Meg? To give up her throne in Scotland for love of a man?’

  ‘I do, sweetheart. I thought how sad she must be to have had to give up her child, and your mother thought her an idiot.’

  ‘And what did you think, Mother?’ asked Nell with a raised eyebrow. ‘I’m sure you had an opinion.’

  Lettice laughed again. ‘I did, poppet. I thought she must have been so in love with the Earl of Bothwell that she gave up everything for love of him.’ Gazing across at her daughter, she raised her own eyebrow in response, ‘And I understood her perfectly.’ Lettice burst into a fit of giggles and the others chuckled along merrily.

  ‘But your father is glad to be home, Jane. We have a wedding to arrange, do we not?’ Jane beamed at Meg and then hid her blush as she busied herself with baby Harry’s blanket.

  ‘Dickon must have missed you when we were away, poppet.’ Lettice looked across at the flushed face of Jane and smiled brightly. ‘I shall speak to Robin and have him enquire about the chapel at Windsor. The Queen did promise, my dear, so we must get on and arrange it.’

  ‘And we must organise your gown, Jane.’ Ursula poured a cup of ale and brought it to her friend with a smile.

  ‘That shall be Robin’s and my gift to you, poppet. The most beautiful gown you can imagine, to your own design if you choose. I will send for the dressmaker without delay, and she can bring some fabric samples and measure you for a gown, slippers and petticoats for your wedding.’

  ‘I shall buy your nightgown and robe for your wedding night,’ called Nell from her seat, ‘and a spare one for the next day, in case that one becomes torn,’ she wiggled her brows at Jane, ‘for any reason,’ and then they burst into another fit of giggles and chuckles at Jane’s blushing cheeks as she stole a quick glance at her mother. Meg was chuckling along with the rest, so Jane smiled shyly.

  ‘Thank you, every one of you. But, Letty, ask Lord Robert to hurry the banns, would you? I missed Dickon while we were away too.’

  Lettice snorted a laugh, earning a surprised look from Henry, whose brave English troops had easily vanquished the Spanish and who had taken control of the castle while young Charles tried to bite the tail from the King of Spain’s horse.

  ‘Then the dressmaker has three weeks, poppet. I hope she has a lot of assistants.’

  Above the hilarity, Lettice heard a sharp rap on the door and beamed as Thomas strode into the room with a folded paper in his hand.

  ‘My Lady. A note from my Lord.’

  Lettice smiled up at the manservant and rose from her stool, shaking out her crumpled skirt and taking the note. Thomas straightened and then took a kerchief from his doublet to smother his cough. Lettice frowned in concern.

  ‘That is becoming troublesome, Thomas.’

  ‘Apologies, my Lady,’ Thomas struggled to catch his breath as he spoke.

  ‘No apology, Thomas. I am worried about you. I shall ask Aunt Meg to prepare a linctus or a tincture that might help.’ Lettice looked across at Meg, who nodded.

  ‘Lady Sadler,’ Thomas nodded his gratitude in his customary terse manner as Lettice read the note he had brought.

  ‘Lord Robert has been called to a Privy Council meeting, Thomas. He thinks it will mean a late night so does not wish us to delay our supper. Could you speak to Cook so he can have something tasty when he does arrive home?’

  ‘My Lady.’ Thomas bowed and Lettice placed her hand on his arm, squeezing in gratitude. She felt his arm begin to tremble under her touch and she smiled up at him as she dropped her hand.

  ‘Thank you, Thomas. And if I give you a note now, could you have someone take it to my dressmaker, please?’ Lettice dimpled across at Jane, who grinned back in delight.

  ‘My Lady.’

  ***

  Robert stood up wearily from his chair in the Privy Council room. The meeting had been long and acrimonious, with most of the Council siding with Burleigh and arguing for a charge of treason to be brought against the Scots Queen. He was looking forward to seeing Lettice across the supper table and then trying to snatch a few hours’ sleep before he returned to Court in the morning. His few weeks away, sleeping and waking as he chose, had shown how hectic his life at court was, and that it was no wonder his digestion was suffering.

  Elizabeth had remained seated as the Council dispersed around her, nodding and muttering to Burleigh and Walsingham as they dropped a word in her ear as they bowed before leaving. Robert couldn’t help but wonder how many decisions made by the full meeting had then been reversed upon a muttered word in the Queen’s ear and an abrupt nod from the monarch.

  Robert made his way to the head of the table, to make his bow deferentially as he left the chamber, and Elizabeth’s hand snaked out and grasped his wrist.

  ‘I would have a private word, Lord Robert.’

  He straightened and she dropped his hand, so he went to the wine table and poured her a goblet of her favourite sweet Rhenish and himself a cup of ale. He walked slowly back to where she was seated, to give the older members of the council time to shuffle from the room, bowing and nodding as they did so. Once the guard closed the door and the sound of pikes crossing reached them, Elizabeth jumped to her feet and began to pace round the room.

  ‘Majesty?’

  She stopped abruptly and turned, looking him straight in the eye.

  ‘They want me to kill her, Robbie. Burleigh, Walsingham, others. They argue in front of one another, quoting the law and then casting their vote. But in their hearts, they want me to destroy my cousin, and they mutter and whisper as they bow, telling me what needs to be done.’

  ‘We voted for an attainder of treason to be brought, Majesty. Not a death warrant for a Queen. You can keep her imprisoned in Fotheringhay. Well- guarded, better served?’

  Robert watched as Elizabeth shook her head as she paced the chamber. She no longer bit her lip in agitation, he noticed, but twisted her fingers together. He saw the makeup caked onto her skin, not just to hide the scars of the pox, but hoping to disguise the march of time. From her maquillage, he could see that someone other than Nell had done it; someone without his stepdaughter’s light touch. Robert felt sad
dened as he suddenly remembered how young they had once been, but determinedly pushed the memories away.

  Elizabeth came to a halt in front of him and stretched her hand out. Her voice was softer than he had heard it for many years.

  ‘I remember too, Robbie.’

  He caught her hand before she could cradle his jaw, and kissed the back with dry lips. She must have noticed the look of reminiscence on his face as he watched her and was transported back in time. He swallowed hard. Remembering was very different to re-enacting and he would not dishonour Lettice by either word or deed.

  ‘Majesty, you told me once that the conscience you had as Elizabeth was different to that which you have as Queen. Only you can decide which one you must use.’

  He kept his voice level, his tone respectful and formal, carefully using her ceremonial title to subtly remind her that they were no longer Robbie and Bess. Robert brushed her fingers again briefly and she drew herself back from him. He saw the vulnerability in her eyes but refused to acknowledge it. He watched as Elizabeth visibly gathered herself, resuming the mantle of monarchy as she drew a ragged breath and gazed at him with dark eyes as hard as jet.

  ‘Oh, I rather think, my Lord, that I shall need to be the Queen in this. I doubt I am the first monarch who has had to condemn someone to death for the greater good of the country. I shall have to sacrifice my cousin to keep my Council on my side. On England’s side. Anything else would be unconscionable.’

  ***

  Lettice beamed at Robert across the table as he pushed away his supper plate. She had waited up for him, even though the hour was far later than his usual return from court. Any time they had together was precious, and she didn’t want to forego one minute.

  ‘Have you had time to think if we could offer Kytt a position, Robin?’ she dimpled at him and poured him another cup of ale as he sliced an apple with his dagger.

  ‘I have, Lily. Do you think he would be my Master of Horse? More to the point, do you think Thomas would be upset if Kytt assumed some of his duties?’ He bit down on a piece of apple and chewed slowly, watching his wife as she stole a piece he had already cut and popped it in her mouth, giggling in triumph. He chuckled low in his throat at her delight.

  ‘I think that would be a splendid idea, Robin. It would give Thomas a chance to teach Kytt some of the duties he undertakes for us, but give him more opportunities to rest. Aunt Meg’s linctus is helping his cough, but I fear he is still unwell.'

  Robert nodded slowly and sipped his ale. He had noticed how short of breath Thomas had become, and worried about his friend. Kytt would be an asset to the household, and would protect Lettice just as his uncle always had. Lettice grinned and stole the last slice of apple, wrinkling her nose at his huff of feigned displeasure and speaking as she chewed.

  ‘How was the council meeting, Robin?’ She raised her brows at his sigh of irritation.

  ‘It is treason Lily. Kytt brought evidence from Spain that there is a plot, and that the Scots Queen is an active participant. The other plots surrounding her have never had this level of proof. She has been sufficiently foolish to sign her name this time. And there is only one recourse for a charge of treason.’ Robert shook his head, and Lettice blinked owlishly at him.

  ‘But Robin, she is her cousin.’ Lettice’s tone rose in surprise, and Robert huffed a rueful laugh.

  ‘As are you, my love. And you, of all people, know how harshly she deals with her kinsmen when displeased.’ His brows rose and Lettice shrugged unconcernedly as he continued. ‘She is reluctant, I will admit. Even her malleable conscience balks at condemning an anointed queen but her ministers seem to be giving her no choice. The treason is so … incontestable … she can do no other and keep their support for her Monarchy. And the safety of England comes above all else in her life. Any sacrifice for her country is worth it, for her.’ Robert thoughtfully sipped another mouthful of ale and then looked up into the smiling eyes of his wife.

  ‘How has your day been, lovely Lily?’ Lettice beamed at him over the rim of her wine cup and her voice had a hidden giggle as she replied.

  ‘Exhausting. I have been surrounded by family every minute,’ she laughed again at his expression, and then saw the veil of sadness cloud his eyes for a brief moment.

  ‘And were you…., was it….?’

  ‘It was delightful, Robin. We had such merriment, all us ladies back together, and with the children.’ She grinned at him again, ‘They are such lovely children, my love, but they are very much themselves and I wouldn’t have them otherwise.’ She shook her head in amusement as she remembered her battle. ‘Henry defeated my Spanish army and then Charles tried to eat the King of Spain’s horse.’

  She stopped suddenly and her eyes shone with tears that she determinedly blinked away, taking another sip of wine and a shuddering breath before turning her beautiful smile on her husband.

  ‘And I ache to tell you what Robbie did, Robin. I would give anything to amuse you with tales of his doings, his conversation,’ she stopped and let out another breath, then gave Robert a tremulous smile, ‘but we must remember him as he was, as he will always be, to us.’ She pressed her lips together as her throat closed over her grief, but she refused to dissolve into helpless tears any more.

  Robert took a deep breath and lifted his ale cup tilting it towards Lettice who mirrored his toast with her own goblet.

  ‘Our noble imp, my love.’

  Chapter 44

  aughing, Lettice looked across the room at the guests gathered in Leicester House for the wedding breakfast of Dickon and Jane. Most of her family had managed to gather for the event, even her father. He was seated, as befitted the aged person he was, absorbed in conversation with Ralph Sadler in the corner of the room.

  Her three sisters, together with their husbands and children, had made the journey from their country houses and were bright and beautiful in their jewels and sumptuous gowns. Her brother Franc had come with her father and was deep in conversation with Robin and other courtiers, although her brother Tom hadn’t managed to make the journey from Ostend. Ed was at sea with Drake, although they were never sure when the privateers might dock, and she held out hopes that if he didn’t manage to arrive that day, having already missed the ceremony, he would reach them as soon as he could.

  That they were holding the wedding breakfast in their home was her tribute to her Aunt Meg, who had organised and arranged her own marriage to Robin all those years ago, and it gave Lettice much pleasure to be able to do so. She sipped her wine and gazed over at the happy couple.

  Jane had chosen a tawny silk for her gown, which shimmered and shone in the candlelight. The neckline was modestly scooped, and edged with pointelle lace spiking upwards over Jane’s décolleté, and her ecru ruff was finely pleated and edged in the same delicate lace. The large sleeves of the gown were gathered into pointelle-edged cuffs, but split upwards from wrist to shoulder, exposing the beautifully embroidered sleeve beneath, yet caught together once or twice with tiny gold roses highlighted centrally in sparkling ochre citrines. The huge skirt was scattered with the same stones, and around her neck, Jane wore Lettice’s gift of a beautiful strand of pearls that fell almost to her waist, caught to the side with a citrine and diamond brooch.

  Dickon was clad in a bronze silk brocade doublet and breeches, with a cloak of matching bronze velvet hanging from his shoulder. Robert had presented him with a magnificent ceremonial sword and dagger for his wedding gift, with the hilts of both encrusted with cabochon amber and topaz stones, and the blades chased with scrolls and tracery. Dickon had been speechless with gratitude, Lettice remembered, and it had taken some light teasing by Tom and Kytt to bring the boy to himself again.

  Lettice managed to catch Robert’s eye, and nodded slightly so her
husband lifted his goblet and cleared his throat ostentatiously. Slowly the room quietened and everyone turned their gaze to Robert, who was about to deliver his speech.

  ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, family, friends. It has given us great pleasure to host this event for my brother-in-law Dickon and the beautiful girl he has chosen to be his bride.’ Dickon smiled at Robert and Jane dropped her eyes and blushed furiously.

  ‘After such an uplifting ceremony, my wife and I would like to invite you to partake of the wedding breakfast, which is now served in the dining room.’ Robert walked towards Lettice and offered his arm for them to lead their guests in to eat. She beamed up at him and dropped a graceful curtsey before taking his arm and wending a stately walk through the huge double doors to the formal dining room, ablaze with candles reflected on gold and silver plate and sparkling crystal goblets. As she passed the door, Lettice spied Kytt speaking to his uncle and the servants, and she dimpled at him in gratitude, receiving a conspiratorial wink in return.

  They all took their places at the enormous table and the servants began to bring in the feast of food that they had prepared, huge platters of tender roast beef and pork loin together with whole chickens and prepared morsels of duck. Pies with the flakiest pastry crust were interspersed with trenchers of poached fish on beds of greenery with sliced fruits and sugared marchpane animals and honey-covered sweetmeats.

  Lettice looked down the table and smiled inwardly as she saw Nell speaking kindly to Essex’s wife Frances, who had just announced her pregnancy. That Essex remained in Ireland was an inexplicable relief to Lettice, as she still didn’t feel strong enough to deal with his unpredictable moods and flashes of temper. She felt her hand lifted and looked over to see her husband, eyes sparkling with mischief, kiss her knuckles.