Strands of My Winding Cloth

by G Lawrence

  “What can be done against such a foe?” I asked, putting my head to her breast as though I were a child again. The scent of her warm skin washed over me. The smell of lavender, from her perfume, calmed my frayed emotions.

  “Live, Elizabeth. That is all that can be done against Death. Live each day and know the beauty of life. Laugh with friends, and know that even when Death separates us, we are never lost to one another. Love those who deserve your love, and be grateful to be loved in return.” Kat wrapped her arms tight about me. “Speak the names of those who have died, so that they are not lost from memory. Step out into the sunshine and the rain with equal joy, and cherish the feel of the wind upon your skin. Know that to live is a gift, and even when it is taken from us, understand we have been fortunate to possess such grace.”

  She pulled me closer. “That is all that can be done, Elizabeth, to thwart Death. None of us can escape Him for all time, nor should we mourn such a fact. When He is done with His work, He takes us to join those we have loved and lost in Heaven. But enjoy life for as long as it is yours. In that way do we defy Death. In that way do we learn to live without fear of Him.”

  “If only I could not feel the sting of the sorrow He brings,” I murmured against her breast. “Then I could do as you say.”

  She stroked my hair. “Such sorrow will pass, with time,” she said. “All things, good and bad, pass with time.”

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Whitehall Palace

  Summer 1565

  Now my cousin of Scots had made up her mind to marry, everyone in England thought I should follow her good example. Despite various efforts on my part to converse on another subject, my Privy Council were determined to talk of nothing but marriage. Curse you, cousin! I thought grimly as I listened to my men raise the subject for the forth day in a row. Why could you not remain single and unwed, as I am resolved to?

  My nerves were strained. Bess Parr’s death hung heavy on me, adding to the weight of losing St Loe. I had been downcast for a while, but as I listened to my men bleat on like lost lambs, anger surged within my blood. Eventually, I exploded. “You would seek to ruin me!” I screamed, standing and slamming my hands down on the table with a great bang. Robin, Cecil and Pembroke all bounced half a foot in the air, all at the same time. I had little time to think on this magic my men had performed, as I raged on.

  “You see the Queen of Scots pursue a halfwit bedswerver and you pressure me to follow her lead?” I shrieked, my voice reaching octaves which no doubt caused mice in the palace walls to cringe. “You think I should follow her example, my lords? Take a dunce as my mate? Inflict an unwelcome whoreson on England as well as myself?”

  “Majesty…” Cecil said, staring at me in astonishment. “No one suggests you take a husband like Darnley…”

  “But I should take one such as the Archduke who I have never met?” I fumed. “Or accept the boy-King of France and spend my life buttoning up his tunic and wiping his nose? Or perhaps you think I should marry the Earl of Leicester, finally, eh, Cecil? And inflict upon England a proud, disdainful and arrogant consort?”

  “Majesty!” Robin objected, but I was too angry to hear him.

  “All know that Your Majesty is so enamoured of the Earl of Leicester she can think on no other man as a mate,” Norfolk interjected grimly, earning him a glare from Robin and from me.

  “Get out!” I shouted. “Get out, all of you! Knaves and dissemblers! You would have me marry as swift as possible to any man who saunters along. You do not care who or what I will be saddled with, do you? You have no care for my country, for my people, or for me. My cousin even now forgets the duties she owes to her people, to her country by taking that wretch as a husband, and you think I should follow her example? Should I have moved faster, my lords, and taken Darnley as my husband? Would that have pleased you, gentlemen… to have a king such as Darnley rule over you? Perhaps, my lords, I would do you a favour, and die as soon as I wedded him, then you could have what you always wanted; a dullard on the throne under your control!” I glowered at them. They sat, frozen with horror. “Get out!” I screamed again. They were swift to exit. I sat down heavily on a chair.

  “Was that wonderful performance truly in earnest, Majesty?” Kat asked, appearing from the shadows with a tight smirk on her face.

  I glared at her, but then my face broke into a grin. “In part,” I admitted. I had wanted to send them off knowing not to raise the subject of marriage with me again for a while. I believe my performance, as Kat called it, had accomplished that aim. But my annoyance was real enough, even if I would not naturally have lost my temper quite so well.

  “They fled quickly enough,” Kat said, putting her hand to her head and applying pressure to her temples. The headaches she had begun to suffer last year had become more frequent. She said they were nothing, but they worried me.

  “What man would not flee from a woman who seems to have lost her senses?” I asked, rising and putting my cool hand against her brow. She closed her eyes and sighed with contentment at my touch. “You should use more of the poppy potion my doctors gave you,” I said disapprovingly. “And take more rest.”

  “Who is the lady and who her governess?” Kat opened her eyes and gave me a look reminiscent of times past when she had scolded me. I had to smile.

  “Who is the Queen and who her servant?” I retorted.

  “It appears we are at an impasse.” She slipped her hand into mine. “I will take more care, my lady, but you must promise the same. Playing your men like this… It can only last so long. Perhaps it is time to actually consider the idea of marriage and family. Not all fates turn out the same. You will not necessarily have a union like those of your father, or your sister. You do not have to live alone, Elizabeth. This single life, this lonely existence, it is not the only way to be.”

  “I am not alone,” I said. “I have you.”

  “Ambassador de Silva is here to see you, Majesty,” Mary Grey said, approaching and hovering behind us.

  “Bring him in.” I kissed Kat’s hand and released it so she could stand at my side. “It is good to see you, ambassador,” I greeted him as he entered. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “The Earl of Leicester sent me, Majesty,” de Silva confessed with open honesty. “He believed I might cheer you up, for he said you were low in spirits.”

  “High in anger, I believe he meant,” I said, making de Silva chuckle. “And he sends you to face my wrath, ambassador? Perhaps you should check if you are really good friends, if my lord Earl is so ready to throw you to the lions.”

  “He trusts in my ability to make you laugh, Majesty, and so it is proved, for I note the smile emerging on those pretty lips.”

  I laughed. “You do have a talent, de Silva, I admit, for bringing me happiness.”

  “Then my life’s ambition is complete,” he said as he performed a ridiculously overdone bow. “But if you will tell me your troubles, Majesty, then I will prove myself a useful friend. Allow me to listen to your woes, and I will do my best to offer advice. Then, when we are done, I will tell you more tales I heard of the French Court this week. I have a good one about a lord who tumbled from his horse into a pile of manure!”

  I smiled. I had never met another who was de Silva’s match when it came to the performance of comic humour. The man should have been on the stage.

  I rolled my eyes. “They press me to marry, and they are not busy with that, they charge me with a great many things,” I complained bitterly. “Amongst others, that I show more favour to Robert than is fitting. Even when I insult him, they say I adore him! And their belief that they know all within my heart and head leads them to think ill of me. They speak of me as they might of an immodest woman. But God knows how great a slander it is and a time will come when the world will know it, too. My life is in the open. I have so many witnesses that I cannot understand how so bad a judgement can have been formed of me.”

  “It is a hard task, to be a Queen, ruling alo
ne, my lady,” de Silva said. “For men will judge the woman first and not her titles. Ever have I seen it, and ever I suspect it will be. But there are times when one needs to listen to those about us, and learn from their point of view as well as consulting our own.”

  “And so you think I should marry with the first lord I meet and have done with it?” I asked. “Are you married, my lord? I would relish a husband with your sense of humour.”

  “Sadly, madam, I am,” he smiled. “Otherwise I would be at your immediate disposal.”

  “That is a shame, my lord ambassador, for I begin to find I value silver over gold, the more I am in your company.”

  De Silva bowed. “As I find the comfort of your company, madam, to be more precious than any jewel.”

  I chuckled and rose, taking his arm. “Let us to the gardens go,” I said. “And you will distract me by telling me tales of men falling down and ladies showing their undergarments. I have had enough of talk of marriage and the future. Allow me to lose myself in your stories.”

  My men duly avoided the subject of marriage for some time, thankfully.

  *

  That summer, my cousin Katherine Knollys fell gravely ill. Fearing I would lose her, I sent my physician, Doctor Robert Huick, to look after her. Katherine was at her country estates and I ordered that messengers would travel between her house and the court daily, to bring me news. Her eldest son, Henry, was to marry soon, and I was not about to allow Death to come for Katherine at a time when only joy should be present in our lives. She improved rapidly, and I breathed a sigh of relief. There had been too much death over these past years. It was as though, with the demise of Amy Dudley, Death had taken up residence at my court. But Katherine was set on defying Death, and I was glad of it. As Katherine recovered, so I tried to mend the frictions between Norfolk and Robin. Their men were still marching about the court as though they were on their way to battle, and I liked it not. Sussex had joined in to support Norfolk, and both of them seemed set on removing Robin from life, as well as from my favour. My efforts managed a temporary reprieve of tension between them, but neither was willing to make efforts to be friends.

  Katherine was not the only one who fell ill. In June, the headaches which had beset Kat for most of the year sent her to her bed. She suffered such pains that she vomited often and I was terrified she might not leave her bed, but with a few days of rest, and me flapping at her side, she recovered.

  “Finally I understand,” she said weakly.

  “Understand what, Kat?”

  “How very irritating it was when I lectured you on your health, Majesty,” she said. I beamed at her.

  “And you have only yourself to blame, Kat,” I told her. “For how do we learn to behave but from those who raised us?”

  That made her laugh. But even when she was recovered, the headaches continued. I was sure she was taking too much upon herself, and issued many of her duties to Blanche and Mary Radcliffe. Kat objected, of course, but I insisted that she take more time to rest.

  Later that month, I had a headache of my own in the shape of my cousin of Scots. She had the banns of her marriage read in public. Mary was ready to wed the drunken weasel, and it seemed no power on earth could stop her. Although still wary of my wrath, my Council resumed talks on the succession and marriage. To put them off, I made much of Robin, calling him to talk with me everywhere I went.

  Robin visited my bedchamber each morning as I was being dressed, and one morning I made a show of kissing his cheek as he passed me my shift, which got the court talking. The shift is the most basic of undergarments, which led many to believe, when they heard the tale, that I had been naked in front of Robin! I had in fact been fully clothed, and he was handing me the shift to give to one of my ladies to take for washing, but I have to admit the story helped me spread the idea I was on the verge of marrying Robin.

  If my Council believed I was set on marrying Robin, I reasoned they might leave me alone. After all, they did not seem to care whom I married, as long as I married. Cecil was worried. He believed Robin would bring no benefit to England, which was true enough, but also that should he become King, he would control me utterly. Norfolk was, of course, horrified by the idea and made no attempt to hide it. My late efforts to reconcile them were undone, but I could do little about that. Norfolk joined with Sussex, and also the lords Hudson and Howard of Effingham. My court was full of strutting peacocks, stretching their talons and hissing at each other.

  And yes, I was using Robin again. I felt guilty, but had he not soured our friendship again with his loathsome play? And yet, eager guilt gnawed at my gut. My angst at Mary, sorrow for Bess Parr and St Loe, and the knowledge that I was using Robin pained me. I became ill. My doctors were convinced I had a stone forming in my kidneys, and this would lead to consumption and death. Death! Had there ever been a time anyone thought of anything else? Death plagued me, followed me, haunted me. His silhouette was cast over everything I did or said. At least being ill made it impossible for my men to badger me.

  If I was low that summer, I was not the only one. We had reports from Scotland that Darnley was misbehaving. Randolph was filled with great sympathy for Mary. “This Queen is so far past in this matter with Lord Darnley, that I fear it is irrevocable,” he wrote. “I voiced my concerns to Her Majesty, that she was rushing into marriage too fast, but I believe her bewitched by Lord Darnley. She is so altered in her affection towards him that she hath brought her honour into question, her estate into hazard, her country to be torn in pieces. I see also the amity between countries like to be dissolved, and great mischiefs to ensue.” Randolf clearly thought this marriage would bring no good to Mary, or her country. He wrote that Darnley continued to be drunk and unruly about court; that his boasting was winning him few friends, and many were dismayed by his behaviour. He reported even Mary had become downcast. “Her Majesty is laid aside,” he wrote. “Her wits are not what they were, her beauty is other than it was, her cheer and countenance changed into I know not what.”

  If Randolph was at a loss to know why Mary was suddenly downcast, I was not. I could see it all as clear as if I stood there. Mary’s fantasy was fading. The paint she had used to cover Darnley’s faults was flaking. But now, she was stuck, was she not? She no doubt believed to go back on her resolve to wed Darnley would make her appear weak, especially after all the bold defiance she had thrown at me. Mary wanted to appear independent, strong, and courageous. She did not see that sometimes the bravest thing we can do is admit we have made a mistake, and retract it. Until she married him, she had the option to escape. Mary did not take it.

  Cecil took this opportunity to convene the Council and discuss Mary’s right to the succession. Since I was absent, he knew he could get away with much. Mary’s life story was told to the Council, and not a single detail was omitted that might cause her to be found wanting. By the end of that long day, Mary was found to be not only unsuited to the English throne, but dangerous to England as well. Now that she was poised to take a husband, Cecil argued, she had become a threat. It was likely that her heirs would rule England rather than mine. This would cause my people to turn to her, Cecil said, and be drawn away from their allegiance to me, causing possible rebellion. He also argued if Mary married Darnley without my consent this was a hostile act in itself. She was flouting my authority over my own subjects, he declared, and it was only a small step from that act, to inciting revolt.

  I could not deny Cecil had a point. But I did not agree that my people would turn so easily from me. I also did not favour the notion that England should rise to meet this threat, as some suggested. It was discussed that Darnley, as an Englishman, might be able to gather an army against me in England, and so, some men asked, should we not gather our forces now, and pre-empt such an attack? In the end, it was thankfully decided that war should not be the first action England took in response to Mary’s marriage. Cecil came to me later with a report of the meeting, and a petition that I look more favourably on Kathe
rine Grey. They did not ask me to name her my heir, for they knew how I would react, but that was what they wanted.

  I ignored the petition but I took many of their arguments seriously. “I do not believe my people would rise up against me in favour of Mary and Darnley, Cecil,” I protested. “Mary has never been popular, and Darnley, although English, is hardly an inspiring leader.”

  “But secret Catholics hidden in your realm would rise, if they believed it would bring them a Catholic queen,” Cecil said, sitting on a chair beside me. “And although you do not wish to believe this, Majesty, there are those willing to support Mary, over you.”

  I frowned. I did not want to believe it, and yet I could not deny it was possible. “We will take precautions,” I said. “Order the Earl of Bedford to keep a close eye on my cousin.” Bedford was the highest ranking man posted to the English borders. “And tell him to aid Randolph. I want more ears and eyes in Mary’s court. Issue them with further funds, Cecil. If we have to buy loyalties, we will.”