Strands of My Winding Cloth

by G Lawrence

  “Lennox has leave to go whenever he is ready,” I said. “But his children and wife will remain here.”

  “Perhaps, Majesty, it might be an advantage to consider releasing Darnley to accompany his father,” Cecil said, causing me to lift my eyebrows almost into my hairline with surprise. Cecil smiled. “Unless Your Majesty cannot do without his stimulating company?”

  “Have you run mad, Cecil? You want me to send a single and unmarried man with royal English blood in his veins into Scotland to meet with my cousin?” My cousin was searching for a husband… Did Cecil mean to send Darnley to Mary as a potential mate? Had Robin got to Cecil and persuaded him to endorse a different match for my cousin?

  When Cecil did not immediately answer, I continued. “Or have you changed your mind and decided to support my cousin’s claim to the throne? You must know that such a match would only increase her eligibility?”

  “I doubt if she would marry beneath her, Majesty, especially given her reaction to Lord Robin… But Darnley is a handsome young gallant. Perhaps his presence would distract your cousin? Prevent her from setting her sights and ambitions on Spain, if only for a time?”

  “And if she married him?” I asked.

  “Darnley is an English subject, and would require your permission to wed, Majesty.”

  “A fact that has not prevented other cousins from acting as they want rather than observing the wishes of their sovereign,” I reminded him. “This plan is dangerous, Cecil. If Mary married the boy she would increase her claim, and that of any heirs the two might produce… She might even decide not to wait for me to die, and move to take my throne by force.” I stared at Cecil. “I ask again, Cecil, have you changed your mind about the succession? Or has Robin asked you to make this suggestion?”

  Cecil smiled. “Your favourite has presented many ideas to me, Majesty, to prevent his being sent to Scotland, but this is not one of them. I do not believe the Queen would wed Darnley. I simply think he would serve as a good distraction. He is handsome enough to turn a woman’s head, and she would toy with the idea since he is of royal blood, but eventually she would surely see he is not powerful enough to bring her what she needs… I believe he might buy us some time, and with time, Don Carlos may marry another. Also, Darnley is officially Protestant. I believe your cousin cherishes hope of a Catholic marriage, does she not?”

  “Lord Darnley changes his religion as often as he changes beds,” I said. “His mother is Catholic, as you well know. The Lennoxes attend the Protestant ceremony to avoid suspicion, but all know where Margaret’s heart lies… and, besides, what man would not agree to alter his religion for a crown?” I stared at Cecil, pondering the matter. “Is there another reason you want to thrust him in her face, Cecil? Are you hoping Mary will marry the whoring yaldson and be saddled with a ridiculous husband?”

  Cecil’s continued reluctance to admit to this only confirmed my suspicions. Darnley’s drinking, whoring and other unsavoury adventures were common knowledge at court. In place of a mind, he had pride, and in place of emotions he had lust. If I was right, then my Secretary was willing to trade all dangers of Mary marrying a member of the blood royal in return for handing her a husband who would bring her peril. I could see advantages as well as disadvantages to this notion. Whatever Cecil’s motivations were, if Mary were to marry Darnley, her claim to the throne of England would be bolstered. Since I preferred her as a successor over any of my other cousins, despite her faults, then if she married Darnley this would help. All well and good, but on the other hand it meant the possibility of Darnley one day becoming King of England. Inflicting him on my court was one thing, inflicting him on my people, quite another… It would also impose Darnley on Mary, and I was not quite angry enough at her to think well of this. And it would mean my odious cousin Margaret would triumph by making her son a king; a vastly displeasing notion. It also presented the added danger that Mary might indeed forgo friendship between us and invade England, bolstered by the English husband at her side. But still… it bore consideration. Darnley was less dangerous than Don Carlos as a husband for my cousin.

  “I will think on it, Cecil.”

  “There is one more thing, Majesty,” Cecil went on. “In the letter I received from Randolph, Mary of Scots says she wishes representatives from your court and hers to meet at Berwick-on-Tweed to discuss terms for the union with Lord Robin. She has decided to consider the match.”

  My heart dropped. Mary was willing to consider Robin? I had never thought she would actually go ahead with it. I had wanted Robin to turn to me again, to show that he loved me, to mend the hurt between us. I had wanted to buy time before proposing another English suitor. I could not lose Robin. The thought of him with another woman was too hard to bear. Sharp slivers of jealousy cut through my blood and bone. But then, when I had a moment to consider, I wondered if Mary was playing with me, as I had done with her. Was she, in fact, only going ahead to barter for time to pursue Don Carlos? Was she trying to trick me? For a moment I thought well of sending Darnley to Scotland, just to spite her.

  “Tell my cousin I will be delighted to send an envoy to meet hers,” I said in a level tone. “And will start to make preparations to ensure Lord Dudley is ready to meet his bride.” I looked at Cecil closely as another concern sprung to my mind. “How is your son, Spirit?” I asked. His new son, Robert, had never been a hale babe and I had been told of late that he had developed a curved spine, which was further impeding his health.

  Cecil sighed. “Mildred and I are often most concerned for him,” he said. “But my wife, much like my Queen, is a determined woman. She tends to Robert’s care with great diligence, and has made up her mind already that he will be tutored at home, when he is old enough to hold a quill.”

  “If you need any advice from my physicians, Spirit, then you have only to say.”

  My Secretary smiled. “I will take you up on the offer, madam, if needs be.”

  As Cecil departed, I send Kat to bring Robin to me at once. Leaving my chambers for the Privy Gardens, I waited for him. It was time to find out the truth of his feelings.

  *

  “You sent for me, Majesty?” Robin’s voice came from behind me as I stood admiring the gardens at Greenwich. I had been lost in thought. Cecil’s plan to send Darnley to Scotland had consumed me.

  I turned. “I did, Lord Dudley,” I said formally. “I wanted to inform you that Queen Mary of Scotland wishes to send an envoy to talk about your suit.”

  “It is not my suit,” Robin protested, his tone plaintive. “It is your wish that I be sent from you, from England, and from all that I love.”

  “Do not sulk like a little boy, Robin,” I said. “As I have told you before, I am acting as any good master would who cares for her servant. I am giving you all you want.”

  “There is but one thing I want, and that is you.” He gazed at me so sadly I thought my heart might break.

  “I cannot believe in something there is no evidence for,” I said. “You have shown me that all you care for is the throne. And now, I offer you one.”

  “I care nothing for the throne, neither the one you offer me nor the one you deny me. What I care for, is you. I want to be with you, Elizabeth, why can you not see that?”

  “Because you court me no longer, Robin; you court power.” I glanced away, tracing the flight of a bird in the skies. Shadowed dark against white clouds, it swooped and danced in the air, riding the breeze. “You said once that I was in your heart, but I believe this lie no more.”

  His hand came down on my shoulder. He spun me about to face him, his expression furious. “How can you believe such of me?” he shouted. “When all I have done, I have done for us!”

  “All you have done you have done for you!” I shouted back. “You have done nothing for me, Robin, only against me!”

  “All I have done, I have done to bring us together.”

  “And all you have achieved is to drive us apart.” I tossed my head. “You do not see, even
now, what you have done? How you have tried to squash my power with your intrigues and double-dealing? You are a fool indeed, Robin, if see this you cannot.”

  “And you are a fool, my Queen, to remain blind to the horrors you inflict upon me!” he shouted. “You would send me away? From you? From court? From my family, my friends and the land I hold dear? You would offer me to another woman? You would betray me and my love for you, for spite?”

  I shook his hand off. “Why should I not be spiteful, my lord? When a heart is abused it becomes dark and rotten. That is what you have done with my love! I am what you have made me!”

  “And I am what you have made me,” he replied. “You have made me into this creature… this desperate, grabbing, grasping beast. You play with my feelings, madam! You say that you love me. You say you will marry me, you raise my hopes and then you dash them to the ground! I am your plaything. I am the doll you bring out, taunt your friends with, and then throw on the floor and forget about.” His lip curled with disgust. “You beckon me on, and then you refuse me. You toy with my love, Elizabeth, you abuse my feelings, and you demean both me and yourself in doing so.”

  I stared at him. His words struck me deep. Although I had not intended to treat him in such a way, I could not deny that from Robin’s point of view, this was the truth. And yet… he did not admit to all he had done. Much blame was mine indeed, but I was not the only one guilty here.

  “And you work with my enemies, plot with my advisors, and bribe my lords to bend me to your will,” I said coldly. “You are a traitor, Robin. To me, and to our love.”

  Robin glanced at his fine shoes. For a moment there was silence. “Do you want to be rid of me?” he asked softly.

  “I do not.”

  Robin glanced up, that desperate hope in his eyes again. “Then do not pursue these negotiations to marry me to your cousin,” he pleaded. “Finish this darkness and malice between us, Elizabeth. Marry me.”

  “That, I will not do either,” I said. “I have lost faith in your love, Robin, and such cannot be mended with words.” I held up a hand as he went to protest. “But I will not be parted from you, either.”

  I sighed and waved at him to follow me as I walked. “I cannot live without you, Robin,” I said, refusing to look at him. “But I cannot give you to another. It would break my heart… And yet, I cannot marry you, not with all that has happened. I am torn and my heart is wounded.”

  “I never intended to hurt you.”

  “And yet you have… and I have hurt you.” I paused, stopping by a fountain where blue waters shone, dappled silver under the sun. “It will take time to mend the ills we have caused each other. But I am willing to try, if you are, Robin.”

  “I want nothing more than to have your love.”

  “It will take time for me to believe that again,” I said. “But I will make you an offer, Robin; a token of friendship. I will give you something you have long wanted in return for your promise that you will attempt to make amends for your part in the strife between us.”

  “You will marry me?”

  A breath hissed from my lips and I stared at him with a strained expression. “Do not ruin all my good intentions, my lord, by making me decide to ship you to Scotland after all,” I warned. “Should my cousin see you, I am sure there would be no force in Heaven or on earth to persuade her to give you up.”

  Robin breathed out heavily. “Then what do you offer me that I want more than anything?”

  I smiled, turning my gaze back to the horizon. “In order to be considered noble enough to be a true suitor for my cousin, you would need a grander title than the one you have.” My tone was offhand, careless, but I saw interest flicker in his eyes. “You would need to be an earl, really…” I looked at him and my grin broadened. “How like you the title of Earl of Leicester, my lord?”

  Robin was suspicious. “Not at all, if it allowed me to be considered for your cousin.”

  I chuckled. “My cousin is not serious about wanting to marry you, Robin,” I said. “But as these talks go on, we must make sure that we play the game as well as she. Mary will pretend to consider you as a suitor, even as she works secretly to snare Don Carlos. And if my offer is to be seen as serious, then I must elevate you. That is the next move, Robin, and playing with Mary will allow me to elevate you without much trouble at court… Norfolk will protest of course, but then he always does, but Cecil will support your elevation if he thinks he has a chance to get you gone.”

  “What are you saying, then?” Robin asked, confused.

  “I say, Robin Dudley, that I will not be parted from you, even though I do not entirely trust you anymore. I say that I will use you to play this game with my cousin in Scotland… and I say that I am sorry for the pain I have caused you. I offer you an earldom as a peace offering.”

  “And if I accept… you will not send me to Scotland?”

  “No, my lord. You will stay with me, and I with you. This is merely an opportunity to elevate you, without scandal attaching itself to my name, and with the support of many lords at court who would dearly love to see you gone from England.”

  He stared at me as though he had not considered this, and then a great smirk broke over his lips. I chuckled. “Pick your seat in the House of Lords, Robin,” I said, taking his arm. “You are about to become an earl.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Greenwich Palace and Cambridge

  Summer 1564

  As I left for progress that year, so my cousin in Scotland did too. After declaring she was willing to discuss terms of marriage to Robin, Mary effectively disappeared, and the stream of dispatches from Scotland tumbled into a mere trickle of information. Her rapid disappearance confirmed my suspicions that Mary had no serious intention of accepting Robin. This knowledge put my mind at rest. It did mean, however, that my cousin was clearly capable of duplicitous guile, and I would have to take that into account in the future. Announcing that whenever the Queen of Scotland re-emerged from progress, I would send men to her immediately to continue talks, I went on with plans to ennoble Robin.

  My Robin! The knowledge that I was not serious about parting with him had brought a skip to his step. I have no doubt the prospect of becoming an earl added to his new lightness of spirit. He was a regular visitor to my chambers, and whilst he attempted to put on a good show of malcontent for the court, in my rooms he was happy and sweet.

  “You will have to continue with all the plotting you were up to before I informed you of this,” I told him. “My nobles must believe you still think I will send you away. If they catch scent of the truth, they might oppose your elevation.”

  Robin chuckled. “I will be utterly downcast and miserable when I come to perform for them, Majesty,” he said, pulling his lips down and bowing his head like a beaten hound. “How is this?” he asked.

  “Entirely unconvincing,” I replied and chuckled. “You are a poor liar, Robin.”

  He pulled his lips down further, making himself so ugly I laughed even harder. He bowed his head, wrung his hands and dropped to his knees. “How about this, my Queen?”

  “Worse.” I indicated for him to rise, marvelling at the warmth in his dark eyes. “You must spend time with your company of players and learn their tricks,” I scolded. “You will give everything away if I send you out to weave our blanket of lies now.”

  “I will call to mind the harshness of our late sorrows,” he said. “And therein, I will find all the grief I need.” He lifted my hands and kissed my fingers. Sparkling shudders of pleasure flashed though my blood. My cheeks warmed as I stroked his face.

  “I am more pleased than I can say, my Eyes, that we are friends again.”

  “No joy, even yours, can match my own.”

  “Get you gone,” I teased him. I needed to curtail my emotions before they got the better of me. It had not taken much for me to start to forget all of Robin’s misdemeanours. I had said it would take time to mend the hurt between us and I meant it. It would not do to fa
lter in this resolution by immediately giving in to all his protests of devotion and love. “Get to your packing, my lord,” I said. “We leave for Cambridge with the dawn’s first light. Make sure my horse is ready.”