Elizabeth curtsied right down to the ground. She had not intended that lest it seem overdone and subtly mocking, but once she got her knees to bend at all, they collapsed. Kat and Eleanor Gage hurried forward and helped her up. She left the audience chamber without even a glance right or left. It seemed to her that her awkwardness and stupidity in dealing with Mary had reached a new peak. She could not even seek comfort from Kat or Alana, not with Mary's ladies all offering her handkerchiefs soaked in lavender water or wine and cakes.
No summons came that day. If Rhoslyn had known Elizabeth was truly afraid Mary would not release her, she could have sent comfort. Mary had spent a good part of the afternoon refusing to listen to Renard's arguments in favor of "giving Lady Elizabeth what she said she desired" and keeping her at Court. But to Mary's surprise, when he found her immovable on sending Elizabeth away, he opposed Gardiner's urging to sequester her in the Tower.
That way, Gardiner pointed out, Mary would not have to see or deal with her sister. The instinctive leap of Mary's heart in agreement turned into a pang so fierce that she caught her breath.
"No," she said.
And Renard echoed, "No."
With Elizabeth in the Tower he felt it would be even more difficult for an assassin to reach her. And he was all too aware of the rising opposition to Mary's marriage to Philip. To allow any threat to Elizabeth that could be attributed to the queen or her Spanish advisors would cause the swelling boil of hatred to burst and spew poison throughout the country. Charles would have him killed! That fear, more real and too possible, completely overwhelmed the insidious prompting of the glowing ruby ring.
The emperor had made plain that Renard was supposed to encourage a good relationship between Elizabeth and Mary. He was to encourage Elizabeth to hope she would be named Mary's heir. That, Charles was sure, would keep Elizabeth quiet, would prevent her from conspiring against her sister . . . at least until after Philip and Mary were married. After Philip had control of his wife, they could decide what to do with Elizabeth.
Renard made a curt bow to Gardiner and a deeper one to Mary. "You know I agree with you my Lord Chancellor that Lady Elizabeth is dangerous," Renard said. "But she would be more dangerous as a martyr. Let her go to Ashridge, her estate nearest London. Your Majesty can seed the town and neighborhood with spies and your women are already in her household. If she looks in the direction of a rebel, you will have evidence against her. Then she can be sent to the Tower and there will be no rising in her favor."
Little as Gardiner liked allowing Elizabeth out of the strict control of life in the palace, he was aware of the practical sense in what Renard said. To imprison Elizabeth now, when there had never been any indication she was not heir apparent, even though Mary had shown favor to others, would doubtless generate riots and ten times the blizzard of broadsides they now endured.
What Gardiner feared was that, surrounded by her own guards and servants rather than those controlled by the government, Elizabeth would be "abducted" from her manor house (he believed with her heartfelt connivance) and then used as a figurehead for a civil war. Considering the growing animosity of the English populace to both the restoration of Catholicism and the Spanish marriage, Gardiner was not sure the queen would triumph.
For a few heartbeats Gardiner contemplated the effects of a civil war after which Mary retained her throne. That would be the end of the Spanish marriage. No matter how much Emperor Charles desired the alliance with England, he would not risk his precious, only, son. Prince Philip would be delighted to withdraw; he obviously had no enthusiasm for this marriage. Then Gardiner drew a long breath. It was far too likely that Mary would lose and Elizabeth would reign. No, far better to let Elizabeth go. Surely she would hang herself, given enough rope.
"As Your Majesty wishes," Gardiner said at last.
And then, although he feared it would be useless, he thought he should make clear to Elizabeth that she was already suspect and watched, that if she joined any conspiracy against Mary, her treachery would be immediately known. Perhaps if one man she knew to be her friend and another who was neutral warned her, she would think twice about making trouble. Gardiner suppressed a sigh. They had trouble enough without adding Elizabeth to the pot.
"Perhaps," he said, "Your Majesty might wish me to dispatch Lord Paget and the earl of Arundel to warn Lady Elizabeth of the need for circumspection?"
Chapter 17
Chancellor Gardiner's dispatch of Lord Paget and the earl of Arundel with warnings and strictures about her behavior, was a source of unintentional happiness to Elizabeth. The advent of Paget and the earl of Arundel, who gravely lectured her about the necessity of keeping absolutely free from any and all political action when she was on her own lands, was the first hint she had been given that Mary did intend to let her go.
To Lord Privy Seal and the earl of Arundel she insisted with a gravity (and an honesty) equal to theirs that she had no interest in politics; that she was only Queen Mary's loyal subject and loving sister. However, with Paget and Arundel she took no chances; she made no plea to remain at Court, saying that her first object was always to do what would best please and comfort the queen. She believed she convinced Paget, who had always liked her and considered her clever and cautious; Arundel gave no sign of his opinion and she could only hope.
The very next day, Elizabeth was summoned to the queen, who met her in a private parlor. Mary came forward alone; her ladies grouped at some distance, too far away to hear what was said. Elizabeth had entered the parlor alone to be seen to be without support. She knelt at once, trembling with hope, with anxiety, with fear that her chains would not be unlocked.
"There is no need to be so fearful," Mary said, recalling that both Renard and Gardiner had insisted that if she let Elizabeth escape the Court, she must make her sister sure of her goodwill. But she could not help adding, "Although I think you will be happier where your tender pride will not be so easily affronted. Still, I wish you to know I love you well."
With some considerable effort, Elizabeth kept her head bent so the blazing fury that had, she knew, turned her eyes a burning gold could not be seen. What she wanted to do was remind Mary of how she had felt when their father had given Elizabeth precedence over her elder sister. Of course, Elizabeth had been totally unaware of that, being an infant in arms at the time. Suddenly, Elizabeth remembered how clumsy Mary was politically and wondered if her inept sister had been taking a petty revenge in giving Margaret Stuart precedence rather than making a political point.
"Your affection is my greatest treasure," Elizabeth murmured; if she was only sure Margaret Stuart's precedence was not politics but revenge, she would gladly grant Mary her little triumph. "That I may carry your assurance of love with me warms my heart."
Elizabeth did not see Mary's sudden frown or her quick angry glance at the ladies clustered out of hearing range behind her. To assure Elizabeth of her affection, Mary had selected a valuable sable hood and two strings of pearls as a parting gift. That remark about warming her heart sounded as if Elizabeth knew about the hood. Mary wondered if one of her ladies was passing news. No, it could not be.
"To remind you of that love, I will arrange that your head as well as your heart be warm," Mary said, trying to smile and not succeeding. "Here, take this as a parting gift."
Elizabeth looked up, allowing the hope she had felt to show in her face. Mary nodded and gestured for her sister to rise, then turned and beckoned to Jane Dormer, who came forward carrying the hood in one hand and the pearls in the other. Mary's expression became less dour, a slight smile touching her lips as she saw surprise changing to delight on Elizabeth's face.
"Oh, madam," Elizabeth said. "How very kind of you. How very generous. I thank you. These will be precious to me indeed, not for their value but as a mark of your good will."
But the slight smile disappeared. Mary did not respond to the real warmth in Elizabeth's voice. She only nodded again and said, "You may go."
Release!
Until Mary said those words, Elizabeth had expected every moment that Mary would change her mind, would laugh and say it was all a jest and Elizabeth must stay at Court. The fear was ridiculous, not a real expectation, just a mark of how desperately Elizabeth wanted to get away.
With that fear still driving her, Elizabeth barely managed to retain her dignity, backing slowly away from the queen and bowing again just before the guard stationed at the door opened it for her. In the corridor her women joined her, all smiling when they saw the parting gifts clutched to Elizabeth's bosom. She said nothing, swallowing and swallowing nervously until they were out of sight of Mary's guards. Then she cast dignity to the wind and fled to her apartment where she bade her household make ready to leave. At once.
There were a few moments of panic while the maids of honor asked shrilly what was wrong? Why had the queen been so generous if Elizabeth was in disgrace? Were they trying to escaping arrest?
"No, no, of course not," Elizabeth assured them, and holding out the hood and the pearls, told them they were parting gifts from the queen, marks of her sister's affection. "Just . . . just I have this crazy fear that she . . . she loves me too much to let me go. And I am so tired of the formalities of Court, so tired of all the talk about Prince Philip and the emperor, may they both live forever and the queen also. I need the peace of the country. Let us go now."
Fortunately a great deal of packing had been done after the visit of the earl of Arundel and Lord Privy Seal had provided Elizabeth with the expectation that Mary would release her. Still there was a little more than an hour of chaos while messages were sent to the stables, wagons to carry Elizabeth's goods were made ready, and the household was organized to leave.
Still in irrational terror of pursuit, Elizabeth insisted on riding. Being mounted gave her the feeling that she was free, that she could gallop away if pursuit came. Despite the cold and the fine rain drifting from the sky, she could not bear the thought of being closed into a litter. That might protect her from the weather, but it could not move faster than a walk.
The ladies foisted on her by the queen stood by the litter that Elizabeth ignored and expostulated with her until she was actually mounted and riding away. Lady Alana sighed softly and gestured for Ladbroke, the head groom, to bring forward her own horse. Ystwyth was already saddled, and Ladbroke only seemed to lead her, knowing the bridle would fall away from her head at a touch. Lady Alana mounted and rode after Elizabeth.
"Oh, surely Lady Elizabeth does not expect us to ride in this weather," Elizabeth Marberry said, her voice high with protest.
"No, no," Kat assured them calmly, moving toward the luxuriously cushioned travel wagon. "Truthfully, none of you rides well enough to keep up with our lady. Lady Alana will be with her. The travel wagon is for us. Ladbroke and Tolliver will ride with us until Sir Edward's men are sent to watch over us and the baggage."
Elizabeth Marberry and Eleanor Gage exchanged worried glances. The previous day, the chancellor had sent for them and told them again that they must watch everything Elizabeth did, to whom she spoke, who were her favorites specially now that she was on her own. There was some danger, Gardiner explained, that Lady Elizabeth might be led astray by her distaste for the Spanish marriage into consorting with rebels. She must be saved from the dangers inherent in such an association. And now, in the first hour of her freedom, Elizabeth might well escape them.
She did not, however, try to escape while they passed through the city, curbing her horse to respond with smiles and waves to the increasing number of people to who came out into the rain to see her pass. Beyond the city, not half a mile along the road, Lady Elizabeth's four elderly guardsmen were joined by a dozen armsmen dressed in Tudor colors. As soon as their wagon came into view, six of the men offered Lady Elizabeth brief bows and rode back to meet the travel wagon and baggage. Ladbroke and Tolliver rode ahead to join Elizabeth, who waved and gestured to the road.
But then Lady Elizabeth did escape their watchful eyes. Sir Edward himself and four of his men, Master Dunstan, now armed with a sword and two pistols, the four elderly guardsmen who always watched Elizabeth's apartment, and Ladbroke and Tolliver, also well armed, set out at a fast trot with Lady Elizabeth and Lady Alana in the center of the group.
Eleanor Gage looked alarmed. How could they watch Lady Elizabeth if she were so far ahead? They should have insisted on riding too. But Marberry smiled and leaned closer to Eleanor Gage.
"We don't have to ride with her," she murmured. "I'll find out from the armsmen who she spoke to and where she stopped."
The trot escalated into a canter and the entire party disappeared. Marberry and Eleanor Gage looked at Kat Ashley, but she did not look after Lady Elizabeth's party. Her attention seemed totally absorbed by arranging the cushions to ease the jolting of the wagon. Blanche Parry, who had been Elizabeth's nurse and was now her personal maid, laughed. Despite her low birth, she always traveled with the maids of honor, which was shocking; but Lady Elizabeth was much attached to her.
"Don't worry about her ladyship," Blanche said. "She sticks on a horse like a burr." She looked knowingly at Marberry and Gage and added, her lips slightly twisted, "She's truly eager to get to Ashridge. Won't stop to talk to nobody until the horses need a rest."
About halfway to Ashridge that prediction proved accurate. The rain had ended and Kat rolled up one of the leather curtains to look ahead. A turn in the road disclosed a crowd of horses being led through the gates of a large inn. Sir Edward stepped out and signaled them to stop. The jolted and bruised travelers in the wagon all smiled with relief. Sometimes the slow vehicles were sent on ahead instead of being allowed to rest with the riders.
Queen Mary's women hurried into the inn and saw that Elizabeth and Alana were alone at a table with cups of what smelled like mulled cider in their hands. There was no one in the inn except the armsmen, sitting at a large table, but Marberry knew that any number of conspirators could have come and gone before they arrived. Then she told herself not to be foolish. The armsmen were too relaxed to have been watching Lady Elizabeth conferring with strangers.
Nonetheless when she had approached Lady Elizabeth and dropped a curtsey, she asked innocently why the inn was so empty.
Elizabeth laughed. "Because Sir Edward had his men drive out the poor folk who were warming themselves here. Well, not really. They are gone into the kitchen, I think . . . and are likely warmer than we."
"No doubt," Alana said, also smiling "because all we have is the one fireplace and the kitchen is also warmed by the baking ovens." She shook her head at Elizabeth. "You will have to tell Sir Edward to leave the innkeeper a few more shillings as I suspect the company now in the kitchen may have snatched some extra loaves of bread or slices of cheese."
"Lady Alana is a clever traveler," Elizabeth said, nodding at her women and gesturing for them to join her at the table. "The warm cider was a good thought." But when they were seated she looked around, sighed and said, "Very well, now who has remembered something left behind that must be fetched? We are just too far along in our journey to go back, but a servant can ride back to London and likely still reach Ashridge at the same time as the traveling wagon and baggage."
To the protests that they were not so careless, since she had warned them a day ahead, Elizabeth shrugged.
"Now how can you know you have forgotten anything before we are even unpacked?" Kat asked.
Elizabeth leaned closer to Kat, who had seated herself on Elizabeth's left. "Because it is something I never had," she said softly, although her voice was just loud enough for the ladies across the table to hear. "The queen was so kind to me, and her gifts so much surprised me, that every idea beyond that of her gentleness and generosity went out of my head." Elizabeth stared hard, warningly, into Kat's eyes. "I completely forgot that the chapel in Ashridge is not properly furnished."
Kat's eyes widened, but she only nodded and said, "True. I had not thought of that."
Most of the other ladies looked either su
rprised or dropped their eyes to hide their expressions.
Eleanor Gage smiled brightly. She had found that she liked Lady Elizabeth and enjoyed her company; she wanted to believe the best of her. "Of course, you are right," she said. "As I remember the king required chapels to be unadorned." She gave a little shiver of distaste. "So . . . plain. So . . . ugly. Nothing to lift the heart."
Elizabeth made no direct reply to Eleanor's remark. She said only. "I had intended to ask my sister what I should do, what I would need to fit the chapel for worship."
"Oh, my," Eleanor said. "It is really too bad that you did not ask. It would have given Her Majesty so much pleasure. I am quite sure that the queen would be willing to advise you. In fact, perhaps you could write to Her Majesty. Doubtless her reply would reach Ashridge before time for vespers so you could send out at once for proper furnishings."
"A most excellent idea," Elizabeth said and gestured at Dorothy Stafford.
Dorothy, her lips tight with distaste but her eyes full of understanding, nodded. She rose, went to the table where the armsmen sat, and sent one of the men to fetch a servant who could discover and bring to her Lady Elizabeth's writing desk with its paper and pens and stoppered ink flask.
And Less Than Kind Page 28