On the Altar of England (Tudor Chronicles Book 4)
Page 44
‘We need to stay in disguise until we have lodgings, my love,’ he felt rather than saw Eliza nod, ‘and then I have to locate the person to whom Master Dee addressed the letter of recommendation.’ He bent his head and kissed her gently on the lips, careful to be unobserved as he did so; the sailors all thought they were two lads on an adventure, and he didn’t want to face the charge of being a sodomite just as his future beckoned.
‘But I promise you, Eliza. I swear on my honour as a Dudley, that as soon as you can live as a girl again, we will marry. You will be my wife, and I shall honour you as such for the rest of my life.’
‘The rest of our lives, Rob. That sounds wonderful.’ Eliza whispered into the wind, and snuggled into the crook of his shoulder.
‘A whole new life, my love. For us both.’
Chapter 58
ifting the latch of the nursery, Nell crept out quietly. The nursemaid had put Isabelle in her cradle, and Nell had just stolen a peep at her sleeping daughter. She had to return to court, so she had kissed her boys and little Lettice before she had tiptoed up to the nursery. She stood upright and turned to go downstairs. Suddenly, her wrist was grasped in an iron grip and she was pulled roughly into one of the empty bedrooms along the gallery. Nell gasped as she was hurled round against the door.
‘Is he ploughing you?’
Nell rubbed her wrist and stared into the angry face of her brother. She drew her brows together in irritation.
‘Is who ‘ploughing me’, as you so charmingly put it, brother? My husband? Every opportunity he gets, I assure you,’ she snorted derisively.
‘Not him,’ Essex twisted his mouth in disgust, ‘Mountjoy. My friend Mountjoy. I have heard from a reliable source that you and he are,’ he stopped and looked her up and down contemptuously, ‘swiving one another. Do you prefer that term?’
‘I would prefer not to discuss my private life with you, brother. I am a married woman. I lie with my husband, as a wife should.’
He rushed forward and grasped her wrists with both hands, dragging her arms above her head and pinning her to the door with his body. Nell’s eyes widened in fright; he had always been impulsive but usually it had been with words, never this thinly veiled violence. She controlled her breathing and tried to stop herself from trembling, knowing that showing the slightest weakness would only please him more.
‘You lie! Tell me the truth. You are whoring with my friend.’ His eyes glittered as she looked into their depths and shook her head in denial.
‘I am no whore, Essex. And you, who lifts the skirts of anyone who is willing, have no reason to cast aspersions. But,’ she made her voice gentle and calm, trying very hard to speak like her mother did to one of the children when they were having a fit of temper, ‘why would it upset you so? Even if it were true, which it is not, why does it matter?’
He let her go abruptly and she lowered her arms slowly, not showing by rubbing her wrists how much he had hurt her. His eyes left hers and he gazed round the room. When he looked back, his gaze was clearer and he gave a rueful smile.
‘He is my friend, sis. Mother has already stolen one of my friends. I would not have my sister steal another from me.’ He put his arm out and it took all Nell’s self-control not to jerk away from him. His arm slid round her waist and he pulled her to him, kissing her cheek playfully and grinning.
‘Not that I would blame you, Nell. Having to lie with Riche must be just awful for you, and I wouldn’t blame you for finding someone else. Just not one of my friends, if you don’t mind. They are mine, not yours.’ He opened the door, keeping his arm around her and they walked together down the stairs, Nell breathing deeply to control the pounding of her heart. She smiled up at him when they stood in the hall, and pecked his cheek.
‘I must go, brother. I am on duty after the noon meal, and I have to change.’
He nodded equably and smiled and shrugged as she fastened her cloak.
‘I shall probably see you there tomorrow then, Nell. Tell the Queen I shall be there in the morning to enchant her.’ He walked backwards away from her down the vast hall and then turned suddenly to go through the door to the courtyard.
Nell shuddered out a breath and clung on to the dresser to steady her knees which threatened to give way. She didn’t know what to do about her brother’s erratic behaviour, and she didn’t know who to discuss it with. She stood upright and straightened her shoulders. The solution would present itself, she was sure.
***
The galleries and ante-rooms were almost deserted as Essex strode through them towards the Queen’s rooms. A small figure made his way forward towards him, the sumptuous fur-trimmed mantle he wore almost, but not completely, disguising his uneven shoulders. There was no disguising his limp as he walked, however.
‘Why are you here, my Lord?’ Robert Cecil, Secretary of State since his father’s semi-retirement looked along the gallery at Essex.
‘I come to see the Queen, if that is your business.’ Essex looked at the small man in disgust at being questioned by such a person, and Cecil caught the look.
‘No, my Lord. You misunderstand. Why have you returned to England when there is still rebellion in Ireland?’
‘I have come to report the situation, sir. I will speak to my Lord Hastings and my Lord Effingham about more troops and better supplies.’ Essex’s tone hardened at the temerity of Cecil’s questioning.
‘You should bring your concerns of ordnance to me, my Lord.’ Cecil’s voice was smooth and silky, which irritated Essex more than anger might have done. His response was delivered through gritted teeth.
‘But you aren’t in charge of the army, sir, or the navy. Why should I come to you?’
‘Because I am in charge of the funds, my Lord. And without those, there can be no army or navy.’
Essex snorted in derision and gave Cecil another contemptuous look.
‘I shall ask the Queen, sir. She is in charge, and she will give me whatever I ask. And she will make you give me whatever I ask.’ Essex strode away rudely, without the courtesy of a bow to take his leave of the conversation. Cecil called after him.
‘The Queen is indisposed, my Lord. She will not see you.’
Essex waved his hand scornfully and continued down the gallery, whispering to no one in particular, ‘She will see me, sir. She will always see me, sir. I am her favourite, and I can have anything I ask. Sir.’
He continued through the galleries, nodding to those early risers who were already waiting to see the Queen, and he strode through the Audience Chamber, the Privy Chamber and stopped in front of the Queen’s bedchamber. The pikemen guarding the door looked at him.
‘Do you know who I am?’ asked Essex, drawing himself up to his full height.
‘Sir,’ muttered the pikeman.
‘Then let me pass.’
‘The Queen is still getting ready, my Lord,’ the other pikeman answered.
‘Are her ladies with her?’ A nodded assent answered his question. ‘Then there can be no impropriety. And if you do not let me pass, you will be wearing your pikes through your throats, I assure you. The Queen will want to see me.’
Silently, the pikemen stood aside and Essex thrust open the door widely, startling the ladies inside. He scanned the room, his eyes passing over Lady Howard, his wife, both his sisters and Anne de Vere, frozen in astonishment.
His gaze was drawn to the other occupant of the room, clad in a white embroidered shift and corset, with the pale maquillage she favoured on her face, red lips, dark brows. A thin old woman with sparse grey hair, blinking at him in surprise at being interrupted before she was wigged and gowned and ready to face the court.
‘Good God! M
adam, I had no idea…’ he sputtered, a great snort of amusement escaping down his nose.
‘Out, get him out. Out.’ Elizabeth’s husky voice was tight with fury and rising in panic, as Cathy Howard rushed forward to usher him back through the door, and his sister swept the coverlet off the bed to shroud the Queen from her brother’s disdainful glance.
‘I had no idea she was such a…… hag.’ whispered Essex loudly to Lady Howard as she closed the door behind her and spoke to the pikemen.
‘Escort the Earl to the stables. He needs to be elsewhere today. The Queen will not receive him today.’
Essex gazed at her meekly, and allowed himself to be escorted from the Queen’s apartments, shaking his head in disbelief and muttering to himself.
***
‘I have seldom seen the Queen so upset, Mother.’ Nell had gone to visit her children after being dismissed from court for the day, hoping not to see her brother as she did so. Lettice raised her brows as she sewed.
‘The Queen has to maintain her image with her subjects, Nell. Every woman wants to show her best self to the world, but for the Queen it isn’t just a matter of vanity.’
‘Although that has much to do with it,’ interrupted Nell, rubbing Isabelle’s back as she held her baby over her shoulder. Lettice smiled at her and nodded.
‘Yes, poppet. She was always vain. But it is a matter of…. policy, if you want to call it that. She must show the world she is a strong, mighty monarch. Robin used to call that look her ‘Lioness’ image. And as she ages, it becomes ever more important to be seen as indefatigable.’
‘Well, she isn’t that today. Today she has taken to her bed, won’t see anyone, won’t speak to anyone, not even Lady Howard. We have all been dismissed for the day,’ Nell grinned at her mother, ‘so I can spend the day here, with my children.’
‘They will love that, poppet. The boys will have a break from lessons soon, and Lettice and Robbie will be up and about then. When Ursula arrives with Margaret, we can set up the fort and the doll’s house with them.’ Nell nodded happily, settling the baby more comfortably on her shoulder, and Lettice shot her a look.
‘And before your sons come, and we have to speak about other things, how are you, dearest? And Mountjoy?’
Nell gazed at her mother and gave her the sweetest smile. ‘He is wonderful, Mother. He reminds me a little of Philip,’ she shook her head as Lettice raised her brows, ‘not in looks, but in how kind he is, how thoughtful. How careful he is with me, of my comfort and my happiness.’ Lettice nodded in approval.
‘He tells me that as soon as I decide I can leave Riche, he will take care of me, come what may.’
‘Ah,’ Lettice said softly, and reached for her daughter’s hand, ‘It has become ‘when’ then, and not ‘if’?’ She nodded. ‘Then when you do leave him, poppet, know that I too will do whatever is necessary for your happiness. Come what may.’
‘Thank you, Mother. That is a comfort. But we have to weather this storm first, I fear. And when the Queen rises from her bed, she will want some form of vengeance for her humiliation, I’m sure of it.’
‘That she will, poppet. She always takes vengeance, in the end. We shall just have to wait to see what form it might take. She may decide to banish him back to Ireland.’
‘That would be a relief to us all, Mother.’
‘And it would be a light punishment. He wouldn’t see it that way, but banishment would be generous.’
‘Let us hope the Queen is feeling generous then, Mother.’
Lettice regarded her daughter silently, thinking that Elizabeth, in her experience, had seldom felt generosity towards someone who had offended her, and she doubted that this would be any different.
Chapter 59
ettice came out of her bedchamber dressed for supper in one of her beautiful gowns, this one of maroon silk and with garnets and pearls around her neck. They were some of the things she had managed not to sell to pay towards Robert’s debts, and she treasured her finery all the more for having less of it.
As she turned, she caught sight of Kytt sitting stiffly on the settle in the corridor, and she noticed he was clad in the suit he had worn for their wedding. She beamed delightedly at him and he jumped to his feet, bowing formally as low as if he was meeting the Queen.
‘Lady Laetitia,’ he said softly, and Lettice burst into laughter. No-one had ever called her that, not even her mother.
She swept to the floor in a regal curtsey, ‘Sir Christopher. Why so formal, my Lord?’
Kytt grinned and offered his arm to escort her down the stairs and in to supper.
‘We are dining alone tonight, my Lady, and that fact alone makes it seem like a party.’
Lettice wrinkled her nose at him as he held her chair at the head of the table, then sat beside her and took her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles. She sighed.
‘I agree, Kytt. It is so peaceful without Essex quarrelling and trying to pick an argument. The children are all asleep, the girls are either at court or at home, and there is just you and me. A party indeed.’
Cissy entered and brought their meal, thick slices of beef and pork with soft bread, butter and cheese, a selection of green vegetables, sugared fruit and sweetmeats.
Kytt grinned at the maid and nodded his thanks, and she bobbed a curtsy before hurrying away.
‘At least she doesn’t drop the food on you, Kytt. I used to tell Robin he was often lucky not to be wearing his dinner, he made her so nervous.’
‘I wonder why? He was the kindest of men.’
She smiled determinedly. She had brought up Robert’s name; she wasn’t going to succumb to tears because of it. Lettice watched as Kytt served her some food and buttered her a roll, and then he poured her a goblet of wine and held it up in a toast.
‘Do you know what today is, Letty?’ He smiled as he watched her try and think, and she shook her head in frustration; all her days were similar, so it was difficult for her to keep track.
‘It is the anniversary of our marriage. So I would like to propose a toast, to my beautiful wife, with whom I look forward to spending many more years.’ He raised his glass and sipped, and Lettice did the same, giggling to herself in pleasure that he had remembered.
***
They ate their fill of the light supper, and laughed and talked about the family, about Kytt’s duties at court for Walsingham’s office and about his plans for the future. They spoke about the children and how they were growing, and how much pleasure Lettice took in each achievement they made. Kytt opened another bottle of wine, and Lettice felt her head swim as she sipped at the goblet which was filled to the brim. But it was the anniversary of her wedding, and she was happy to celebrate.
Kytt guided her up the stairs with care, making sure she didn’t catch her foot in the hem of her gown, and he stopped outside his bedroom door.
‘Thank you for being wonderful company tonight, Letty. We have indeed had a party between us.’ He moved towards her to kiss her cheek, and she turned her head slightly so his kiss would be on her lips. She felt his hesitation, so she pressed her lips to his, parting them slightly and tasting him for the first time. His arms went round her waist as he pressed her close and began to plunder her mouth, arms growing tighter as he felt her response.
She took her hand from his shoulder and unlatched his bedroom door, and this slight movement made him break the kiss and pull back from her, a question in his eyes.
‘I think we ought to move from the corridor, Kytt.’ She smiled and tilted her head towards his room, and he took her hand gently and led her inside, closing and latching the door before taking her back in his arms again.
***
Robert held her soul, and would do so forever.
But Kytt had been so kind, so reverent, so….worshipful of her body that he had taken her breath away. That was the only word for it, she thought as she watched him sleep, he had worshipped her through the night, with his hands, his lips and his body.
At first, she had been hesitant, knowing that her body was no longer as high breasted or flat bellied as it had been in her youth, and the age difference between herself and Kytt loomed large in her mind. But he had stroked and kissed every part of her, and then he had made love with such sweetness, taking care to ensure that she reached her peak before he took his own pleasure, that it brought happy tears to her eyes to remember it.
They hadn’t made love like she and Robert had, with hilarity and passion. She remembered the times that Robert had destroyed yet another nightgown or shift in his eagerness, or his desire, or his lust, then gifted her with a dozen to replace the ruined one, knowing he could ruin another eleven without guilt. It had become a joke between them, but now she realised how heedlessly they had spent so much money.
Kytt had undressed her with reverence, kissing every part of her as it was uncovered, then laying her gently on the bed, stroking and touching and following his hands with his lips until she was quivering with a longing for release that she had thought never to feel again. Their lovemaking had been just that, she thought, love.
Suddenly she realised that Kytt had woken and was watching her as she looked at him, caught in her daydream.