On the Altar of England (Tudor Chronicles Book 4)

by Lesley Jepson

  ‘A wonderful feast, my love. For a beautiful bride and a handsome groom. But none here can hold a candle to you, lovely Lily.’

  She beamed at his words, and gazed at him longingly. In the months since the death of their beloved son, their lovemaking had been brief and sorrowful when it happened at all. At the back of her mind, Lettice had felt a sense of betrayal of her sorrow if she took pleasure in her husband, and she had also sensed a distance between them even in their most intimate moments. But today, watching him with other people and then seeing him seated beside her, she had been swept by a feeling of longing so powerful that she wished everyone gone so she could make love to her husband properly. Lettice blinked away her thoughts, but not before she had caught an answering shudder of breath from Robert, as if he had been inside her mind.

  ‘Thank you, Robin. That is a lovely thing to say. But I am so happy for them both. They have loved each other for their whole lives, I am glad nothing stood between them.’ Her eyes slid to her daughter as if of their own volition before she met Robert’s level gaze. He pressed her fingers to his lips again.

  ‘She will find her own happiness, Lily. I know it. She is your daughter, so she will not allow herself to wallow in misery when she can do something to change it. Just give her some time.’ Lettice swallowed the lump that was building in her throat and nodded brightly. Suddenly, a loud crash of the huge front door being hurled open startled the diners and Lettice jumped in her seat.

  ‘God’s blood, Letty,’ boomed a thunderous voice from the hall, drowning out all conversation as everyone turned and craned their necks to see who was there, ‘can this blasted family not wait for a wedding until the most important guest arrives?’

  ‘Ed!’ she whispered, relaxing back into her chair briefly before standing and walking swiftly to the connecting doorway. Her brother was divesting himself of cloak and sword and gloves to the waiting servants, then he turned and picked her up, swinging her round in his arms and crushing her with a hearty embrace.

  ‘Sorry about your little lad, sis,’ he whispered softly before kissing her noisily on her cheek and setting her back on her feet to escort her back into the dining room as she pressed his arm in acknowledgement of his sentiment.

  ‘God’s blood, Lady Jane but you are a beauty. And you threw yourself away on that….lad? When with one word, you could have married me and sailed away to the New World.’ Ed’s voice echoed round the room, and some of the guests, unused to Lettice’s voluble brother, were exchanging scandalised looks. Robert stood, laughing.

  ‘Friends, I would introduce those of you who don’t know him to my wife’s brother Ed. The pirate.’ Robert snorted a chuckle and Ed’s booming laugh rang out. ‘Please don’t be offended by the things he says, my friends. He is more used to life aboard ship, and his tact and diplomacy were washed overboard many years ago.’

  ‘That they were, my Lord.’ Ed had found a goblet and Kytt had filled it with wine, so Ed toasted Robert’s words before quaffing most of the wine in one swallow. ‘Went down to the bottom of the sea, they did. But I have replaced them with something far better.’ He rummaged in the front of his doublet and produced a velvet purse bursting at the seams, which he tossed in front of Jane with a guffaw of laughter. ‘Spanish gold, Lady Jane. My wedding gift to you, in case you need to escape the clutches of this callow brother of mine that you say you love.’

  Jane began to blush, as did Dickon, and Lettice nudged Ed in his ribs with her elbow. Ed grunted in mock pain and looked at the blushing couple, then burst into a hearty chuckle saying ‘But if you choose to escape, my Lady, escape to me,’ he lowered his voice to a theatrically loud whisper, ‘and bring me the money back!’ Jane and Dickon both burst into laughter at Ed’s idea of a joke, and Lettice shook her head in frustration at her loud, ebullient brother.

  Tom Sadler brought another cup of wine to his friend and led him away to have something to eat with him and Ursula, to give Jane time to recover herself. The guests soon began to talk again amongst themselves and the servants continued to bring out food and wine for their delectation.

  ***

  ‘Where did you dock, Ed,’ asked Tom when the tables had been cleared and the musicians began to play tunes for the dancing to begin.

  ‘St Katharine’s, Tom. We had too much gold to transport from Plymouth. We have had a good season and the Spanish king is considerably poorer, but it is getting harder and more dangerous. We have put into port for the winter, I think.’ Ed swallowed more wine and gazed round the room.

  ‘I can’t believe they married Essex to Frances Walsingham, Tom.’ He snorted a chuckle into his cup and shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘She was Frances Sidney first, my friend, and has a daughter to prove it. But Nell seems to have decided to be kind to her. I just hope Essex is as kind when they are together.’

  ‘And he is in Ireland, you say? God’s blood, what a thought. And what about Raleigh? Did the Queen let him out of the tower? And his wife?’

  ‘She did, Ed. They weren’t in there long, and they now reside in Dorset. Raleigh commissioned another ship and he is at present on a voyage to the Azores, but he is expected back in the spring.’ Ed nodded sagely, supping more wine.

  ‘That might be a good thing, old friend. From some of the Spanish prisoners we took on our last sortie, it would seem the King is planning something unpleasant in retaliation for our …. liberation, shall we say, of his gold. And if he comes by sea, we might need every ship and every crewman England can muster.’

  ‘A sea battle Ed? Surely not.’ Tom was surprised by his friend’s excited chuckle.

  ‘I do hope so, Tom. They are the best kind.’

  ***

  Jane gazed at Dickon, alone as they were in one of the huge guest chambers in Leicester House. The bedroom had been refurbished by Lettice especially for their wedding night, and Jane had helped choose the sumptuously embroidered drapes and coverlet in oyster coloured satin, with cushions and window seats to match. All the luxurious decoration, as well as the touches of kindness in the warming fire and the wine, fruit and sweetmeats on the table, fell away from her gaze as she looked at her groom shyly.

  ‘Lady Jane,’ he chuckled as he poured her a small cup of the sweet red wine.

  ‘Sir Richard,’ she countered, laughing as he wrinkled his nose at the hated name.

  ‘Wife,’ he whispered, stepping up to her and gently pressing the cup into her hand.

  ‘Husband,’ she giggled, dipping a brief curtsey and then sipping her wine with her eyes laughing over the rim of the cup.

  ‘You don’t wish to run from me into the arms of my buccaneer brother, my Lady?’

  She shook her head firmly and then set the cup down on the side table. ‘I could not want anything less,’ she whispered. ‘I have loved you for so long, Dickon. I wanted to be your wife when I was three years old. And I have waited for you to want me back.’

  Dickon smiled down at her. He had grown into a tall, powerful young man with broad shoulders and strongly muscled arms. Jane favoured her father’s build, slender and slight, with her mother’s light brown hair and gentle ways.

  ‘I can’t remember a time when I did not love you, Jane. Then I found I was in love with you as well, and I had to wait until we were old enough to marry. It has been a long wait.’

  She blushed and gazed up at him with soft hazel eyes. ‘And now we are married.’

  ‘Indeed, my Lady.’

  She began unclasping his doublet with trembling fingers, keeping her eyes lowered to her task until she found the courage to say what was in her mind. She could feel Dickon’s hands at her waist, loosening the ties of her skirt and petticoats, and then she felt them drop round her feet and his hands undo the lacing of h
er bodice at her back. The clasps were all undone in front of her, and she began pulling the ties of his shirt open and then sliding her small hands up the soft skin of his chest until she found his heart, pounding away inside his ribcage. Her breath shuddered out and she felt her bodice loosen. She knew that with one shrug her bodice would join the pool of silk and cotton lawn on the floor, and she would be clad in her cobweb shift in front of her husband for the first time. She had to ask her question.

  ‘Dickon?’

  ‘Yes, my love.’ Dickon’s lips were now on the bare skin of her neck as her bodice dropped forward and his hands went round her body, separated from her skin by an almost transparent layer of gossamer-thin silk. She shivered and smiled, eyes closing sensuously at the feelings his kisses were arousing, but she still needed to ask.

  ‘Do you know what to do?’

  ‘Yes, my love. I know what to do.’

  Chapter 45

  ettice pushed the stray curls from her face as she watched Robert move silently round the room in the hazy grey light that bled round the heavy curtains. Knuckling the sleep from her eyes, she smiled lazily as he shrugged into his silk shirt.

  ‘Hello Robin.’

  He chuckled softly and gazed at her, cocooned in the depths of the coverlet on the bed.

  ‘Oh, my love, I am sorry. I had hoped not to wake you.’ His mouth quirked a rueful smile, and Lettice stretched out her arm, shaking her head.

  ‘You must always wake me, Robin. You must not spend a moment awake in this house without me beside you.’

  He sat on the edge of the bed, fastening the clasps of his doublet and sliding his feet into his boots. Fastening his ruff around his neck he turned and looked at her.

  ‘I must go to the palace, Lily.’

  ‘Of course you must.’ His face fell and he turned a surprised look on her with his brows raised. She realised her tone had sounded sharp, ‘No, Robin. I didn’t mean it like that. I know you must, because it is your duty.’ She wrinkled her nose at him, ‘Pass me my nightgown, if you please, my love.’

  He reached across to the foot of the bed where a glowing puddle of silk rested haphazardly and picked it up.

  ‘This rag?’ He snorted a chuckle at the indignant look on her face.

  ‘It wasn’t a rag last night until you tore it, Robin. It was a beautifully beaded and embroidered silk gown, and now it …… isn’t.’

  She giggled and blushed at the memory of Robert’s hilarious pursuit of her around their chamber. He had been slicing her laces and strings with his dagger until she stood before him laughing and trembling in her beautifully embroidered shift. He then tore it from neck to ankle before sweeping her into his arms, shedding his own garments with her enthusiastic help until they were naked and laughing in the middle of their bed. Their lovemaking had all the joy and passion that they had both missed in the other for so long, and they had fallen asleep entwined together.

  Robert rummaged in her dresser to find another shift and brought it to her, crawling across the bed to claim her lips. One hand began stroking up her neck then downwards, skimming her breast and rubbing his thumb over her nipple before stroking round her slender waist and clasping her buttock as his kiss deepened into passion and he growled in his throat.

  ‘I must go, Lily,’ he groaned as he broke the kiss, ‘I have been summoned and I have to go.’

  She withdrew from him with a chuckle, tickling her fingers through his beard to the curls at the back of his neck before kissing him briefly on the lips and allowing him to retreat from the bed. He strode to the door and caught up his dagger from the chair, turning for one more glimpse of her before he left for the palace. She beamed.

  ‘Come back soon.’

  ***

  Robert walked swiftly through the galleries of the palace towards the Queen’s Privy Chamber, nodding to the occasional servant and smiling as the pages woke from their slumbers in the window embrasures, always ready to do the bidding of whichever noble they served.

  He knew the meeting would consist of only those of Elizabeth’s inner circle of advisors, and his lips quirked ruefully as he thought about her mercurial treatment of him, a valued counsellor and friend when she had a problem to solve but a courtier to be teased and sometimes humiliated when she felt the need. That her jealousy about his marriage had caused such a rift in their relationship saddened him, for Elizabeth had few genuine friends.

  As he reached the doors, the guards uncrossed their pikes and allowed him through the portal. Elizabeth was shrouded in an enormous robe of rich maroon velvet, with gold satin facings at collar and sleeve. He noticed she must have woken one of her ladies to help with her wig and makeup, and although she wasn’t dressed as she would be for a public meeting, there was no mistaking the majesty surrounding her.

  He strode to the wine table and poured himself a small cup of ale and a large goblet of wine for the Queen, taking it to the table and silently placing it within her reach. Davidson, one of the many secretaries employed by Burleigh was whispering to her softly and proffering a large piece of parchment for her signature. Robert gazed in surprise at the heavy seals attached to the bottom of the paper, but took his seat without comment and waited for the others to join them.

  The noise of the pikemen at the door indicated that the others had arrived, although he could hear Elizabeth’s low mutterings of displeasure towards Master Davidson as she scratched her name above her seal. Her hand grabbed the secretary by the lapel of his gown and she pulled him down so her mouth was near his ear. Robert couldn’t hear the words, although he recognised both the tone and the obsequious nodding of the secretary’s head. He would disobey the Queen’s instructions at his own peril, Robert thought as he smiled into his cup.

  Robert glanced towards the door as Davidson left, and saw his lapel grasped again by Burleigh as he was tugged towards the alcove at the side of the doorway. Again, Davidson was given brusque instructions and again he nodded, although not without some surreptitious glances towards the Queen. Elizabeth was sipping wine and giving all her attention to something else on the table in front of her, ignoring the people entering the room until the meeting was called to order. Robert’s eyes narrowed as he saw Burleigh shake the trembling secretary’s robe to emphasise a point before thrusting the man away and sweeping into the room without a backward glance, leaning heavily on the stick he had adopted as a walking aid.

  ‘Your Majesty.’ Burleigh’s ringing tones echoed round the chamber as he greeted the Queen and bowed, and the other councillors made their own bows and took their seats. Robert gazed round at the faces that had been summoned, surprised to see Sir Ralph Sadler and Lord Howard of Effingham included, as well as his brother-in-law Henry Hastings. Footsteps behind him made him turn and he saw Sir Francis Drake enter the chamber and make a courtly bow to Elizabeth before taking a seat.

  Robert sipped his ale and waited. He recognised that this was a council of war, with Effingham as First Lord of the Admiralty and Hastings as Commander in Chief of the armies, and he waited to hear how close to a significant conflict the country was.

  ‘Majesty, Sir Francis has further information to add to that which we have already received,’ boomed Burleigh, inclining his head towards Drake in an invitation for him to speak. Drake stood and bowed again to the Queen and to those assembled.

  ‘Majesty, my Lords. You no doubt know I have brought yet more booty from Spain to swell the coffers of England.’ He stopped as the gathered company banged their goblets on the table in appreciation, and he smiled and shrugged nonchalantly.

  ‘Spain can afford it, my Lords. But we also captured some prisoners who took great delight in telling us that their countrymen are coming, with a great Armada of ships to conquer England for their King.’ He stoppe
d again as a buzz of discontent went round the room. Elizabeth held up her hand for silence and then fixed Drake with a serious look.

  ‘And you think the information credible, Sir Francis? Not just idle boasts from captured seamen?’

  ‘No, Majesty. That they were boasting, I have no doubt. But they were so.. ..gleeful… with their threats, so confident that we would soon be under Spanish rule that I cannot help but think they were telling the truth.’

  Elizabeth sat back in her huge chair, nodding and pressing her mouth into a line. After a moment’s silence, she gazed across at Ralph.

  ‘Sir Ralph. If we need to muster an army, or a navy, or perhaps both, do we have the funds in the Treasury to do so?’

  Ralph stood and bowed to the Queen and gazed around at the upturned faces of the Council.

  ‘Majesty, with the gold Sir Francis has brought this year, we will have sufficient funds to build and equip several ships, as well as muster an army. I would advise bringing troops home from Ireland to swell the numbers, and you will have to approach Parliament to vote on the appropriation of the funds for this purpose. But in answer to your question, your Grace, yes, we have the funds.’ Ralph took his seat to the sound of more cups banging the table.

  ‘Lord Howard,’ Elizabeth looked at her kinsman, ‘how many ships do you need?’

  Charles Howard got to his feet and bowed to the Queen and the others.

  ‘Majesty, obviously we will take as many new ships as we can afford to build, but together I, Sir John Hawkins, Sir Francis and our allies in the Netherlands can muster over a hundred vessels. Build us some fire ships, Majesty. Cheap, easily fitted, barely crewed. They will serve us well should the Spanish attack. Our galleons and battleships will do the rest.’ He sat down to thunderous pounding of approval on the table.