‘Then, Kytt, in kindness and respect and friendship, I would ask a favour.’
‘Anything, my Lady, if it is in my power.’
‘You must call me something other than “my Lady”.’
She looked up again and felt a giggle build in her throat at the trepidation she saw in his eyes.
‘You are my husband, Kytt. And my friend. All my friends, my family, the people I dearly love, they call me Letty.’ He kissed her hands again, and gave her a nervous smile as he bowed his head slightly.
‘It will be my pleasure, my La….. Letty.’
Chapter 55
aying with his head pillowed on his arm, Rob gazed round the room that was his apartment. It had taken some bribery and some bargaining for him to have a room to himself, as the unmarried noblemen at court were expected to share with one or more of the others, but Master Dee had put a word in the right ear for him, and he had slipped the steward a gold piece on his own behalf. But it meant he was alone in this small room, little bigger than a pantry, although quite adequate for his needs.
He had a bed sufficiently large that his feet didn’t hang over the edge, he had a chest for his precious maps and charts, a dresser and an armoire. It was enough, he thought. He just had to find a way to get Eliza to come to his room, so they could be alone and he could tell her the details of his plans.
Master Dee had promised some letters of introduction to the courts of Portugal, France and even Spain, although the colleague in Spain was a simple cartographer; there could be no casting of horoscopes for the Spanish King. Rob was happy to have the chance to be a cartographer to foreign royalty. He hoped they would give him the opportunity for exploratory voyages around the unknown coasts, to practice the skills he had studied, and to have his own life, away from the shadow of his father and his illegitimacy. But he wanted Eliza with him.
He threw himself from the bed and rummaged in the armoire for clean linen and a doublet. Deciding to visit Master Dee before he went in search of Eliza, he strapped his dagger to his waist and locked the door to his room as he left; his collection of maps and charts were too important to be left where a passing servant could see, or worse, steal them. Rob trotted down the stairs, whistling. His plans were forming in his mind, and soon he might need to take action. Until then, he would learn everything he could.
***
Elizabeth’s glance ranged over the assembled court, taking in the knots of ladies stitching or playing the lute, the gentlemen playing cards or discussing horseflesh. Or flirting. Her eyes narrowed.
‘My Lord of Essex.’ Elizabeth’s voice was cracked and hoarse. Her throat had not yet recovered from the damage she had caused it all those months ago when she had received news of Robert’s death, and every time she tried to raise her voice in the Audience Chamber, she was reminded of why she sounded as she did. She closed her eyes briefly, as if in pain, then poked one of her ladies with her foot.
‘Bring me Essex, girl.’ The young maid-in-waiting dropped her sewing and jumped up from the cushion at the Queen’s feet, a tumble of white silk and petticoats and trotted over to Essex, deep in conversation with de Vere, Mountjoy and de Burgh.
‘The Queen wishes to speak to you, my Lord,’ she whispered, and Essex gave her a dismissive nod. She scuttled back to her cushion, but Essex made no move to end his conversation and join the Queen.
Elizabeth prodded her again. ‘Tell my Lord of Essex I do not expect to be kept waiting.’ The girl jumped up again, trying to bite back tears of fright at having to approach Essex a second time. She touched Essex on the arm to attract his attention, and shrank back in terror at the venomous look he gave her as he looked down at her hand on his sleeve as if she contaminated him.
‘I’m sorry, my Lord, but the Queen has sent me again. She wishes to speak to you.’
‘Tell her I will be there when I have finished my conversation.’ His companions gasped and tears began to fall from the girls eyes.
‘My Lord, I cannot,’ she breathed.
‘Don’t do that to the poor little thing, Essex,’ said Mountjoy, clapping him on the back as if he had just made a jest, ‘she’s terrified. We can finish this another time, my friend.’ Mountjoy smiled and nodded across the room to Elizabeth and then Essex lifted his face and, clearing it of the truculent expression, beamed across at the Queen and stalked immediately to her side.
Elizabeth watched him approach through narrow eyes, but smiled when he bowed, and inclined her head graciously. Essex threw himself on the floor at her feet and kissed the toe of her slipper, which made her laugh as it always did.
‘Majesty. Forgive my tardiness,’ Essex beamed his smile at her, and she tilted her lips in response, ‘Mountjoy was explaining something dreadfully complicated and my brain just couldn’t manage to understand his words. I was relieved when you asked for my company. It will give him chance to think of a simpler way to explain.’
‘And what was so complicated, my Lord?’
Essex shook his head negligently and shrugged his slender shoulders, tapping Elizabeth’s foot with one finger. ‘Do you know, Majesty, I cannot remember. It was so complicated, the words have slid out of the sides of my brain.’ He sat up abruptly and pretended to scan the floor.
‘Do you think they are on the ground, Majesty? Shall we organise a search party of your ladies, to pick them up and bring them, so you, with your peerless intelligence and wise mind, can put them all in the right order and then …..feed them to me slowly?’ His one finger was tracing lazy circles on her foot and his voice had lowered to an intimate whisper. ‘I’m sure if I had them from your beauteous hands, they would make sense. Would you do that, Majesty? Would you teach me?’
Elizabeth blinked at the reverie his sensual words had provoked in her. That he spoke nonsense she well understood; he seldom spoke anything else to her. But he took her mind away from both the troubles of statehood and her grief.
‘I would, my Lord. But I am afraid I have to send you away again.’ Elizabeth noticed the tight line of Essex’s mouth as she spoke, but ignored it. He would do as he was bid. Essex beamed up at her again, continuing to trace patterns on the toe of her slipper.
‘Really, Majesty? Have I vexed you? Is my company no longer to your liking?’
‘You know that is not the reason, my Lord.’ Elizabeth lowered her husky voice so her ladies could not hear over the lute practice that was being performed near where they were seated.
‘But Robert Cecil tells me that Ireland is again fermenting rebellion, and I would have you go over and quell it.’ Elizabeth smiled to take the hint of banishment from her words, but blinked in surprise at Essex’s snort of derision.
‘Robert Cecil tells you, Majesty? And you believe him? A jumped up, crook backed clerk, nowhere near as wise or as clever as his father, but promoted beyond his capabilities just because of his father?’ Essex’s voice had taken on a sulky whine that Elizabeth was unaccustomed to hearing, and she narrowed her eyes as she responded, raising her husky voice to a normal level.
‘Have a care, my Lord. He is proving a wise counsellor under the tutelage of Burleigh,’ she raised her eyebrow and fixed him with a stony glare, ‘and he wouldn’t be the only one at court dependent for his place on the reputation of his parent, my Lord.’
Essex kept his eyes on the feet of the Queen for a long moment, and those who had heard Elizabeth’s admonishment of him stayed silent for his response. As she watched him carefully, she saw his lips compress into a line again, then his head come up and his glorious smile return. He jumped to his feet and gave a low, almost obsequious bow.
‘Majesty. I live to serve.’
Tears sprang unbidden into Elizabeth’s eyes as she heard the response Robert had always given
to any request of hers, and she blinked them away quickly so the court didn’t see. As she did so, she thought she caught a sly glance at her from Essex as he rose from his bow and strode away. She realised he was well aware of how that particular phrase would affect her, and was delighted with her response.
She spitefully poked another of her ladies with her foot. ‘Tell the musicians to play something cheerful, and organise yourselves to practice your dancing. God knows, the last performance you all did needed more practicing, so stand up and get on with it.’
The ladies stood from their cushions and moved into a line as Elizabeth watched Essex stride from the room, followed by his group of friends trying to calm him and make conversation. She sighed irritably, then went back to watching her ladies dance, tapping her foot in time with the music.
***
Rob pulled Eliza by the hand as they trotted up the stairs to his room. He had spotted her in the garden when he was returning from consulting Master Dee, and it had pleased him to see her clothed in dark rose pink silk and garnets; she wouldn’t be missed for a while. Eliza’s breathless giggle behind him made him smile as they toiled up the steep spiral staircase.
‘Stop, Rob, please. I beg you, a moment,’ Eliza let go of Rob’s hand and clutched her midriff, breathing heavily, ‘My lacings are too tight to run so,’ she gasped, as Rob slid his arm around her waist and kissed her neck.
‘Then we shall loosen them, my love. When we are in my room, I shall help you.’
Eliza chuckled as her breathing steadied and Rob carried on nuzzling into her neck. ‘I know what you want to do, my Lord, and helping me with my laces is only a small part of your plan.’ She giggled as he growled in her ear.
‘The first, tiniest part of a very grand plan, my Lady. That I can’t wait to share with you. So come, not too many steps further and we can be...comfortable.’
‘Why is your room all the way up here, Rob?’ asked Eliza as they finally arrived at his door and he took the key from his pocket.
‘Because no-one else wants it, sweet Eliza. It is baking in summer, and freezing in the winter, but it is solely mine. No-one will disturb us here. The servants only come when I ask them, so we will be quite alone.’ He swept the door open and allowed her to enter before him, watching her turn in a circle as she looked around.
‘It is very small, Rob,’ she smiled at him and began twisting her fingers together, and he stepped forward, turning the latch closed before taking her hands and drawing her into his arms.
‘It is big enough, my love. For now.’ He led her to sit on the bed, hitching his leg so he could look at her as he spoke. She kept her hands clasped and her eyes downcast, so he put out his finger and turned her face to his.
‘Look at me,’ he whispered, and he watched as her eyes slowly rose to meet his, a faint blush creeping up her neck.
‘I want to tell you my plans, my love. But I want you to know that without you, everything I have planned is but ashes in my mind. Your family will never consent to our marriage, but I cannot live my life without you.’ As he spoke, Rob could see the flush creep further up and Eliza’s breathing become faster and faster at his words.
‘My plan is to elope, sweet Eliza. Creep away in the night, find a ship and sail far away from England, and make our lives and my fortune in a foreign land. If you could do that with me, then I would be yours and you would be mine, together forever. It wouldn’t be quite yet, my love. I have other things to plan out before I can leave, and I don’t wish you to answer me now. But I want you to think about it, about what it will mean, and then tell me what you wish to do.’
Eliza blinked at him, and a tremulous smile crept over her lips.
‘I want to be with you, Rob. Here, anywhere, as long as you are with me.’
He slid his hand up her cheek and drew her close, kissing and nibbling her lips gently as she sighed and began to unclasp his doublet with trembling fingers. His hand slid down her back and he pulled the ties on her skirt and then her bodice lacings, working them loose as he continued to kiss her lips, cheek and neck and she undid the ties on his shirt and tried to push the garments off his shoulders.
He straightened and slid his arms from his attire, and unbuckled his dagger belt, dropping it on top of his doublet on the floor. Eliza shrugged out of her bodice and undid the lacings on her corset, dropping it down as she stepped from the heap of rose silk and cotton petticoats, emerging from her foaming skirts clad in her embroidered shift.
She smiled shyly, and Rob took her hands and spread them wider. She began to giggle beneath his scrutiny as he admired the shape of her body, silhouetted in the thin fabric by the sunlight through the mullioned window behind her. He swept her in his arms and stepped over their discarded garments to place her in the middle of his bed. He pressed his long frame beside her and ghosted his hand up her leg and beneath her shift, dropping hot kisses onto her throat and shoulder, exposed by her loosened neckline.
Eliza tickled her fingers up his jaw into his dark curls and pulled his lips towards hers, allowing him to plunder the depths of her mouth as his hand stroked further up her leg and around her bare buttocks. She groaned in her throat as his fingers slid between her legs and found her warm, moist centre. Rob adjusted his position and pushed his breeches down, looking into Eliza’s heavy lidded eyes.
‘You are so beautiful, my love, and I have waited so long for this. But once it is done, you will be mine always. There can never be another, for either of us. So be sure, my dearest Eliza, that you are prepared to be joined to me forever.’ He emphasised his words with kisses and nips to her lips, her neck and her breasts, exposed now as her shift bunched round her waist. Eliza groaned again and shifted her position, opening her thighs wider for him and lifting her hips from the mattress to ease his access to her most secret vault.
Gently, Rob eased himself inside her, knowing he needed to take her to himself slowly, but wondering how much he could hold back as he felt her warmth clench round him as he thrust himself inside her more and more quickly. As he felt the pressure build even higher in his body, he felt her squirm and move sensuously against him, caressing him with her soft moist heat and sighing breathy words of adoration in his ear.
Suddenly she began to shudder and clench and a high pitched squeak came from her throat, which he silenced with another deep kiss as he thrust them both over the edge of their climax. His breathing slowly returned to normal and Eliza began to kiss his neck and throat as he eased himself from her body and lay beside her, stroking patterns on her silky flesh as she blinked and smiled at him, tears sparkling on her lashes.
‘Did I hurt you, my love?’ He thumbed a tear from her eye and she shook her head quickly.
‘No Rob, not at all. It was wonderful. And my answer is yes. Take me with you, whenever your plans are such that we might go together. I cannot be parted from you now. You are my Lord. I am yours. There is nowhere for me, unless you are there.’
Rob twitched the linen sheet over their rapidly cooling bodies and held her tightly to his side. Dropping a kiss on her hair as she snuggled into his embrace, he whispered, ‘I shall let you know when my plans are in place, my love. We shall escape together.’
Eliza nodded happily and the both fell into a satisfied doze as the sun moved across the window and shrouded the room in the gloom of dusk.
Chapter 56
ife for Lettice fell into a reassuring pattern after her marriage. She looked after her increasing brood of grandchildren during the day, helping Jane and Ursula and the nursemaids. She was with Jane and Tom when the letter came from Meg, telling them that their father Ralph had passed peacefully away in his sleep, and she was grateful to be able to offer comfort to the distraught pair. Privately she expected another letter from Anne any day, saying Meg had jo
ined him, but she kept that thought to herself.
Nell delivered another daughter she named Isabelle, her husband wishing to honour the Queen but Nell being unwilling to use the English form of the name. They compromised on the French. Thea delivered a daughter she named Lucy, for no other reason than she liked it; her husband having no care to name a girl, and Frances also delivered a daughter, whom she named Dorothy, much to Lettice’s amazement.
‘Are you sure you want to name her that, Frances?’ asked Lettice as she and Jane organised the maids to clear the room of the debris of childbirth.
‘My Lord insisted a boy would be named after his father, and a girl after his grandmother,’ Frances whispered softly. Lettice rolled her eyes at Jane and shook her head.
‘She was such an old snob. When Essex was born, she just sat there criticising everything while my mother and yours helped me deliver him,’ Jane smiled and wrinkled her nose, ‘then when she said your father wasn’t noble enough, my mother flew into a rage, quoted her ancestry and her Howard blood and frightened the old witch so badly she scurried from the room.’ Lettice burst into gales of giggles as she remembered, and looked fondly down at Frances, whose eyes were round as her mother-in-law told her tale.
‘Dorothy she is then, poppet. We shall just have to bring her up to be more gracious than her namesake.’ Jane pressed her lips together to prevent a giggle escaping as she watched Lettice turn away from Frances and roll her eyes again at the thought.
Essex remained in Ireland, although he would return for a few days whenever he could manage it, to register yet more ‘field honours’ for his troops with Henry Hastings’ clerks.
‘Harry tells me the Queen isn’t happy, Letty.’ Kit swallowed some ale and helped herself to another sweetmeat on one of her many visits.
On the Altar of England (Tudor Chronicles Book 4) Page 42