‘Why did you do it, my son?’ She kept her voice at a conversational level, taking care to keep any hint of accusation out of her tone.
‘The Queen is old, Mother. I never realised how old she is. She dresses in startling gowns, pretends to be young, has her face painted and wears wigs, but underneath all that she is an old hag. I saw her.’ Essex shook his head as if in disbelief at his own naivety. ‘We need a new monarch, and I thought to hasten that event.’ He quirked his mouth ruefully and drained his wine cup with one swallow.
‘But you have implicated others, my son. Your sister, Mountjoy,’ she swallowed and took a breath, ‘my husband.’
Essex snorted in amusement and poured more wine, sketching a toast in her direction.
‘Nell has always been horrid to me, Mother. And she is being unfaithful to her husband.’ He took another swallow and spoke into his cup, ‘Bringing disrepute on our good name.’
It took all Lettice’s self- control not to slap him, knock the cup from his hands and scream at him. She breathed deeply for a moment and looked at him with raised brows.
‘Disrepute? You don’t think being charged with treason is bringing your name into disrepute?’ Again, she kept her anger from her voice, although inside her stomach was knotted with tension.
He shrugged negligently and drank another mouthful of wine, then smirked to himself. ‘If it had been successful, Mother, it wouldn’t have been treason.’
She shuddered a sigh and tried to unclench her hands, her fingernails leaving deep crescents in the soft skin of her palms.
‘And Kytt? He tried to stop you.’
‘He shouldn’t have done that, Mother. He should have known that his place was beside me, not standing in my way. So he will be beside me now, at the block.’
Lettice pressed her lips closed and blinked slowly, gathering herself for her final question before she kissed her son for the last time and left him to face his fate.
‘But why, my son?’
As Lettice gazed at Essex, she felt herself recoil from the malevolent, spiteful smile he gave her.
‘He was my friend first, Mother. And he forgot that. He shouldn’t have forgotten that.’
***
Lettice came out of Essex’s apartment and leaned her head against Ed’s chest, breathing through trembling lips and swallowing hard. Ed patted her shoulders and waited until she was ready to visit Kytt, who was further along the dark, dank corridor. Lettice pulled away from Ed’s embrace and brushed her hands over her gown, nodding briefly as the small party walked quietly along the gallery. At the door of the room, Lettice took the smaller of the two bags from Dickon and nodded her thanks; she had no voice to speak. Ed opened the door for her and allowed her to enter.
She looked around the room, seeing Kytt lying on the narrow bed in the corner, a wooden splint strapped to the outside of his thigh with linen strips, and a clean cloth hiding part of his face. Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them away quickly, hurrying across to the bed and taking Kytt’s hand.
‘Oh, Kytt, my love.’ She kissed the back of his hand frantically and then looked into his smiling blue eyes as he turned his head carefully on the pillow.
‘Letty,’ his voice was light and breathy, ‘I had not thought to see you.’ He cupped her cheek and she placed another kiss in the palm of his hand.
‘How could you think that? Of course I had to come.’ She held his hand tightly against her cheek and took hold of the other, relaxed against his chest. Lettice looked at her husband and saw that his handsome face was shattered on one side with a cruel wound that the apothecary had covered with clean linen. By the timbre of Kytt’s voice, she could tell he had taken a draught of whatever painkilling tincture the apothecary had provided. Kytt took a breath.
‘I didn’t want you to see me as I am, my love. A ruin.’
Lettice blinked yet more tears away, and swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat. She summoned up the indomitable spirit she had inherited from her mother.
‘You are my husband, Kytt. You are my friend, and you are my love. I had to come and say farewell. How could I do otherwise?’ She beamed a smile at him and then quickly turned her head to kiss his palm so he didn’t see the tears sparkling on her lashes. After a moment, when she knew her voice would be firmer, she spoke again.
‘I have brought you some more medicine, Kytt. Stronger medicine.’ She let go of his hand and felt in the bag for the stoppered bottle, bringing it out and setting it down on the roughly-hewn table by the bed. ‘Cecil said the apothecary was keeping you as comfortable as he could, but I thought this might help more.’
Kytt gazed at the bottle and then looked at his wife, a question creasing his brow. ‘Letty?’
She sighed and kissed his hand again, pressing it to her bosom. ‘I don’t want you to suffer, Kytt. Any more than you already have. If they are to do this thing, and believe me, the Queen won’t stop them, then I would have you at peace before they …. ….beforehand.’ Lettice’s voice trailed away, and she hid her sorrow with kisses to his hand. She heard him drag another laboured breath.
‘But that would mean I could not walk to the block, my love. Would you have that said of me, that I didn’t walk to my death?’
Lettice smoothed his hair from his forehead and put her head next to his on the pillow. With his other hand, he stroked down her cheek, and caught an escaped tear on his finger. Her breath shuddered in her throat and they stayed locked like that until she found the strength to speak again.
‘I would have you at peace, my love. You could not walk without help in any case, so what does it matter?’ She shook her head sadly and whispered in his ear, ‘No-one is allowed to attend, Kytt. There are to be no speeches, just the headsman. I beg that you allow me the comfort of knowing you were safe before they…’
Her voice trailed away, and they spent a long moment together, each one’s breathing in time with the other before Kytt spoke.
‘I will think on it, Letty. I promise. But I want you to be safe too, my love. After I am gone.’
She squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to think about her life afterwards. Several minutes later, when her breathing was under control and she felt able to tell him what he wanted to hear, she put a smile in her voice before replying.
‘I shall devote myself to my grandchildren, Kytt, and live quietly. And frugally.’ She forced a giggle and felt him huff a brief chuckle in his chest. ‘Frances has gone to seek her own happiness, and has charged me with the care of Robbie. I shall raise him and the others, away from court.’
‘It is a great comfort to know you will be safe away from here, my love. And your grandchildren will bring you happiness, I am sure of it.’
‘You have brought me happiness, Kytt. When I had nothing, and didn’t know which way to turn, you offered me hope, you gave me happiness, and you brought me love.’
‘Letty, I loved you the moment I saw you, and you made me the proudest, happiest man when you became my wife. I wanted to grow old with you, my love.’
‘And I with you, dearest Kytt. But now we shall stay forever young for each other, my shining knight. Know that I do love you, and I shall keep you in my heart.’
He nodded and Lettice rose from the bed, bending over him and taking care not to move the linen covering his cheek. Gently she kissed his lips and he returned her kiss with tenderness and love. She kissed his forehead and then his hand.
‘Farewell, my love.’
He nodded, beyond speech, and she walked to the door. Turning, she glanced at the bed and saw his eyes were closed but something on the window sill caught her eye. She focussed on the writing, gouged deep into the stone sill, and her breath caught in
her throat as she read what was written;
R Dudley 1553
She staggered out of the door, clutching Ed’s sleeve, and her three protectors escorted her from the tower and back into the carriage to take her home.
***
Dickon sat at the table in the kitchen at Essex House and gazed sadly at his wife, twisting his fingers with hers.
‘That carriage ride was the longest of my life, Jane. Even Ed didn’t know what to say, and Letty looked like she was made of glass, and would shatter at any time.’ He shook his head at the memory and Jane pushed a plate of warm biscuits in front of him.
‘Where is she now, Dickon?’ Jane freed her hand and poured her husband a cup of ale as he chewed his biscuit. He swallowed a long draught of the cool ale and cleared his throat.
‘We took her into the small salon and made her sit down. We told Cissy she was home, and she promised to take some food in, but I doubt Letty will eat. Ed and Tom went to find Ursula and the children upstairs, and I came to find you.’ He caught her round the waist and pulled her into his lap, nuzzling her neck and she ran her fingers through his copper hair.
‘I’m so pleased we are insignificant, Jane. That we aren’t important enough on the stage of England to endure what Letty has.’
Jane put her arms round her husband’s neck and kissed him briefly. ‘As am I, Dickon. I am happy as I am, with you and our child.’
Dickon’s breath caught in his throat and he looked at her in amazement.
‘Truly, Jane?’ She nodded excitedly and he captured her lips in passion.
‘We must celebrate, Jane. That we are to have a child. It is a cause for celebration.’
Jane smiled at him and settled herself in his lap more comfortably, resting her head on his powerful shoulder.
‘I don’t think a celebration is appropriate at the moment, Dickon. Perhaps when the child is born, we will feel more positive, but at the moment, we should keep it between the two of us.’
‘Very well, Jane, for now. But we could celebrate now, just the two of us?’
Jane pulled pack slightly and looked up at him, observing the teasing quirk of his mouth. ‘Celebrate how?’ she asked doubtfully, wondering what he was thinking.
‘With pie, Jane?’ he suggested hopefully, as she laughingly swatted him with her hand and stood up to find the pie in the cool pantry.
‘Apple or Peach, Dickon?’ she called.
‘Both, my love.’
Chapter 61
ettice sat in the small salon at Essex House, eyes closed and hands clenched on the arms of the chair. It had been more than a week since the sentence on her husband and son had been carried out, yet she still felt as if she would shatter with any swift movement.
Ed, making himself a nuisance with the Constable of the Tower, had been allowed to observe the sentence being carried out from a window high up in the Tower. He had told her that Essex strode onto the scaffold seemingly unconcerned. He had blessed the headsman, then knelt for his punishment as if it were just another adventure. Lettice felt sad that her son had thought so little of his life that he had gone uncaringly to the block.
Her brother had told her that Kytt had been carried to the scaffold on a litter, unmoving. He hadn’t acknowledged the headsman when he had knelt for forgiveness, and he had been laid on the block by two of the Tower guards. Lettice wondered if he had been conscious at all, and the thought that he might have already died peacefully before his sentence was carried out was a comfort.
Dimly, she heard a commotion in the hall beyond the salon door, and then a quiet knock as the door opened and Kit and Nell entered the room.
‘May we stay, Mother?’ asked Nell softly, and Lettice gazed up into her daughter’s worried eyes.
‘Of course, poppet. I was only being quiet. I am quite well, you know.’ Lettice sat up straighter in the chair, and Nell swept the drapes aside so sunlight flooded the dim room.
Kit pulled a low stool up to Lettice’s chair and took her hand. Lettice tried not to snatch it way in case Kit broke it with her grasp, then relaxed when she realised how foolish that would sound if she said it out loud.
‘What will you do, Letty? Where will you go?’
Lettice gave Kit one of her brightest smiles. She knew that she must practice her bright smile and her light voice, otherwise the darkness would come back and swamp her again.
‘I shall go to Drayton Bassett, Kit. Elizabeth will never receive me now, and living here is expensive. A country life is fittest for disgraced persons, I think.’ She pressed Kit’s hand, gazing at her own in wonder that it didn’t shatter, and beamed again, nodding towards her daughter as she spoke.
‘I shall become as Aunt Meg was to us, and bring up the children. Nell has left Riche and is pregnant with Mountjoy’s child.’ Nell nodded happily at Kit and shrugged negligently.
‘Riche is repudiating me, but I don’t care. The boys will become pages at court, so I will see them there, and Mother is taking the girls with her. Riche doesn’t want them.’ Nell walked to the pair beside the hearth and draped herself over the arm of Lettice’s chair, taking her mother’s other hand. Lettice suppressed a flinch at the contact and smiled at her daughter, turning again to explain her plans to Kit.
‘The Queen has told her that Essex tried to implicate her but she refused to believe him, so Nell keeps her position at court. I shall have another babe to care for soon.’ Lettice raised her shoulders happily, and realised that this, at least, wasn’t a feigned emotion; she was looking forward to looking after the children.
‘Thea too stays at court, although she wasn’t mentioned when they questioned Essex. It was always Nell he wanted to hurt.’ She shook her head sadly, surprised that mentioning Essex hadn’t twisted her heart like she thought it might.
‘But I am a Howard, Kit, and we overcome.’ She laughed, and the feeling was genuine amusement. Lettice gave a relieved sigh. ‘I remember Aunt Meg telling me I must ‘overcome’ when I fell in love with Robin just after we returned from Frankfurt.’
‘Really, Mother? All that time ago? I didn’t know that.’ Lettice beamed at the surprise in her daughter’s voice, and almost laughed at the scandalised look Kit gave her. Pushing down the hysteria that was threatening at the back of her throat, she shook her head.
‘No, poppet, you wouldn’t. I was betrothed to your father, and then we married and I had you and Thea.’ Her lips turned up in a delicious smile as she finally allowed herself to remember, ‘Then when I came back to court, I met Robin again and he was so thoughtful. I just fell.’
She blew out a breath and knew that tears were on their way. She ignored them, and continued her tale, ‘And your grandfather was so angry at the shame I might bring that he banished me from court. A prophetic act as it happens.’ Lettice began to laugh ruefully, then turned to her sister-in-law who was looking at her with concern in her eyes.
Lettice shook her head, denying the threatening hysteria that dogged her every waking moment. She would not give in to it. She smiled brightly and dragged a breath to calm her voice.
‘The Queen has taken all my husbands, Kit, in one way or another. Walter died in her service, and Robin neglected himself for her sake until it was too late.’ Lettice shuddered a breath and cleared her throat. ‘She has had her revenge on me for my taking Robin from her, by having my son and my husband executed. Murdered.’
She turned her gaze on her daughter and turned her lips up into a small smile. ‘But we must feel sorry for her, poppet. Elizabeth has not known love like I have. She sacrificed her love for England and expected the same from everyone else.’ Lettice stood from the chair and rang the bell for refreshments, smoothing her gown and taking a huge breat
h. She beamed at the two ladies watching, nodding firmly.
‘I have given enough. I shall sacrifice no more on Elizabeth’s altar of England.’
Epilogue - 25th December 1634
ettice came through the huge door of the house at Drayton Bassett and carefully wiped the rime of frost from her slippers. Puck, her little spaniel snuffled round her skirts and as she looked up, her housekeeper Joan came towards her, wiping her hands on a linen cloth.
‘Oh, Countess. You shouldn’t go out in this cold weather. There is so much frost that you might have slipped,’ she scolded gently.
‘It is a beautiful Yuletide morning, Joan, and Puck needed to go out. But I know that a lady of my great age,’ laughed Lettice, her eyes still bright with humour despite the fine tracery of wrinkles round her eyes and mouth, ‘shouldn’t risk a fall.’
She handed her cloak and gloves to the housekeeper and shook out her damp hems, sniffing the air mischievously.
‘I can smell something delicious, Joan.’
‘Yes Countess. Spiced Yule bread for when your granddaughter brings her children to see you later.’
Lettice beamed at her and walked further into the hall.
‘Is the fire lit in the drawing room?’
‘Yes, Countess. You go along in there and get warm. I will bring you some heated wine and a spiced roll. They will only be a few minutes more in the oven.’
‘Thank you, Joan. You do look after me.’
‘You look after us all, Countess. We are happy to be with you.’
Lettice went into the warm room and settled herself in the huge fireside chair with Puck on her knee, and she slid her feet out of her damp slippers. As she stretched her silk-clad toes towards the fire, she suddenly remembered another occasion almost seventy five years earlier, when she had sat in a garden and stretched her damp toes towards the sun. The first real conversation she had with Robin, when she was nineteen and newly returned to court after Thea’s birth.
On the Altar of England (Tudor Chronicles Book 4) Page 46