For the first time since she had received Walsingham’s intelligence, Elizabeth smiled.
“Ralph, thank you,” she said. “Your father would have been so proud of you and your military prowess.”
Ralph raised an eyebrow. He was always intrigued when Elizabeth made references to his father. “You knew him better than most,” he murmured. “I’m honoured that you think I’m a credit to his memory. I’ve often wondered whether he would have been disappointed by my decisions.”
“Never,” said Elizabeth. “He was a man of great wisdom.”
Ralph acknowledged her words with a swift bow. “Now, Your Majesty, if you can spare me, I’d like to return to my chambers and write to the Scottish queen advising her of my impending visit.”
“Of course,” replied Elizabeth, taking both his hands and looking into his unusual grey-green eyes. “May angels watch over you in your endeavours.”
He squeezed her hands. “Don’t worry,” he said, kissing her cheek, “we’ve faced worse than this and survived. Philip will never steal your throne, not while you have your loyal friends and family around you.” Bowing deeply from the waist, he swept from the room.
Elizabeth flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. In all her years, facing the constant threat of plot, treason and execution, she had never once felt she would fail, but this time, for reasons she could not explain, tears welled in her eyes as she watched storm clouds gathering on the horizon.
Chapter Three
Ever loving Venus, your physician was gratefully received. Mine seems to have nothing further to suggest than leeches! When I suggested some herbal assistance he crossed himself like a small child at a first communion and hurried to the confessional. Are foolish men to surround us always?
Your time sounds busy and I grieve that you feel melancholic. Do you sleep well? My concern is always that you do not rest enough. Let the others take the weight of your Haven for a while. It is summer, your favourite time of year, rest and enjoy the sunshine.
As you so rightly say, we are older ladies now, no longer can we dance the masque with such vigour but we can watch and remember. The thoughts of the past lifted me to smile.
Indeed we continue but, my friend the nun, for how much longer? The weight of illness lies upon me and my vision of the future is clouded.
Send me word if the troubles have been resolved.
Semper sorores, Artemis
Elizabeth looked up from the note from her half-sister, written under her codename of Artemis, as a white greyhound emerged from the bank of ferns with a leap and a bark of excitement, wagging her long tail. Elizabeth bent to stroke the dog’s velvet muzzle.
“Hello Star,” she said, “have you been having fun exploring?”
The greyhound leant against Elizabeth’s legs, enjoying the attention and the soft swift strokes of her long slim fingers.
“Lead the way, sweet thing,” said Elizabeth and Star gave a happy bark, trotting down the gentle slope towards the distant voices.
Katherine Newton fell into step beside Elizabeth, taking the note the queen had been reading and folding it into a long, narrow roll which she slid into a hidden pocket in the sleeve of her dress.
“Star is a gentle soul,” said Elizabeth, watching the dog streak ahead of them across the grass towards the gathering of silken tents and her mistress who had whistled for her. “And this letter arrived late last night?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” replied Katherine. “It was approaching midnight when Lettice received this note on your behalf. We felt it would be prudent to translate it and only disturb you if it was urgent. I hope we made the correct choice.”
“You did, my dear. There is nothing that needs immediate action,” said Elizabeth. “It concerns me that Artemis is still unwell but I must take comfort from the fact she is at least well enough to write again. You say the original note was in her own handwriting?”
“Yes, and it was in code,” confirmed Katherine, “which is the first time for some months. It must mean her strength is returning.”
They were strolling through the woods of Kenilworth Castle in Warwickshire, the beautiful home belonging to Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester and his wife, Lettice. The red-haired countess was yet another member of the extended Tudor clan — the second daughter of Lady Kathryn Knollys — and, although ten years younger than Elizabeth, was striking in her similarity to the monarch.
In the distance there was a sudden splash and the sound of laughter by the ornamental lake drew their attention. Elizabeth and her party had been at Kenilworth Castle for four days and, despite the constant stream of discreet messengers updating her on the situation in Pembrokeshire, Elizabeth and her trusted inner circle were attempting to present the usual lively face of the court while they were in public. They were not yet ready for the panic that would ensue were it to become known that a suspected Spanish invasion might be creeping forward from the west.
Star yapped, having returned to her side, bringing Elizabeth’s attention back to the present.
“You’re so impatient, little lady,” laughed Elizabeth, kissing the top of the dog’s head before she raced away. “Let us go and join the merry making,” she continued, leading Katherine down the hill in Star’s wake. “Until we have confirmation of danger, we are allowed some relaxation. It may be the last we have for some time.”
As they followed the shaded walkway that led to the banks of the lake, Elizabeth breathed in the fresh, metallic smell of the water, feeling her lungs fill with its clean scent. They strolled towards the gathering of silken tents that had been set up on a temporary wooden balcony overlooking the water.
“Elizabeth,” Lettice called, walking towards her and embracing her. When she was here, Elizabeth insisted her trusted inner circle dispense with the formal etiquette of the court. “Star found you in the woods, then?”
“No matter how well we were hidden, your little girl was on our trail,” replied Elizabeth.
“I’m glad,” and although Lettice’s tone was light, there was concern in her wide brown eyes.
Elizabeth gazed at her cousin and considered again how their mixed Tudor and Boleyn blood had created them in each other’s image. They had the same vivid colouring with their vibrant red hair, translucent skin and brown eyes and they were also of similar stature and shared many character traits, including a short temper. The major difference between them, apart from the crown, was the fact Lettice had married and was now a mother, something Elizabeth now knew she would never experience.
Lettice had married in her early teens to Walter Devereux and the union had been a happy one, producing five children: Penelope, Dorothy, Robert, Young Walter and Francis. Walter’s death in 1576 had left Lettice a widow and after a mourning period of two years, she had married Elizabeth’s favourite, Robert Dudley. Lettice had insisted it be a quiet ceremony because she knew the furore it would cause. Many courtiers had still believed Elizabeth and Robert would one day marry but the two women knew differently.
A week before the clandestine nuptials, Elizabeth and Lettice had discussed the matter one final time.
“You are sure, Elizabeth,” Lettice had asked. “If you have any feelings for Robert, I will stop this wedding now. I would never wish to hurt you.”
Elizabeth had reached for her cousin’s hand and squeezed it. “Robert and I have always been star-crossed, but now the idea of being in love with him makes me laugh. You and he are so well suited, Lettice, I’m delighted that my most loyal companions have fallen in love. My best friend and my favourite cousin, your happiness makes me happy.”
“Aunt Elizabeth, Aunt Katherine, Aunt Lettice!” came the breathless voice of the 11-year-old Arbella Stuart as she raced towards them. “Quickly, we’re going out on the mermaid boat to do some fishing in the middle of the lake. You must come!”
Arbella’s golden-red hair streamed out behind her like a silken banner, her curls catching the dancing sunbeams as the three women turned towards her.
A long pontoon led out into the middle of lake and fastened to it was a selection of decorated boats. One bore a swan, another a mermaid and a third a golden fish with jewelled eyes. Along the bank were jugglers and tumblers from Elizabeth’s own personal players, entertaining the glamorous guests invited by Lettice to enjoy Kenilworth Castle’s legendary summer entertainments. A large flat barge was attached to the other side of the pontoon, where Elizabeth’s musicians sat, their lilting tunes floating across the waves, giving the dappled midday light a magical feel.
“Arbella, my little May Queen, it sounds wonderful but I’m not really dressed for boating,” laughed Elizabeth.
“Neither am I, my dear,” said Katherine, glancing down at her silk dress.
“Although, I’m very happy to launch the ship for you,” added Elizabeth.
“Really?” squealed the delighted child. “I’ll run down and tell them to wait.”
Elizabeth laughed and as Lettice waved them away, she and Katherine followed Arbella down the gentle slope to the shores of the lake. Arbella’s grandmother, Bess, who cared for the orphaned child, was trying and failing to calm her down. One of the earl’s household staff, Humphrey Cole, grinned as he lifted Arbella into the boat. His brother, Thomas, was already in the vessel and settled Arbella on one of the wooden benches, placing a fishing rod in her eager hand.
“Don’t worry, your ladyship,” Humphrey said to Bess, springing into the small boat. “We’ll ensure she comes to no harm.”
“Aunt Elizabeth, Aunt Elizabeth, are you ready to send us off?”
Bess turned, surprised to find Elizabeth and Katherine by her side.
“Of course, Arbella,” Elizabeth called, “but only if you promise to stop wriggling. You’ll all end up in the water at this rate.”
Wide-eyed and breathless, Arbella stopped twisting and turning in her seat as the boat was launched into the rippling water.
“I name this ship The Kenilworth Mermaid,” said Elizabeth. “May God bless all who sail in her.”
Bess and Katherine clapped while the orchestra and jugglers cheered. Arbella beamed, then as a small ripple caught the boat and as it rocked wildly she shot an anxious glance at her grandmother.
“Enjoy yourself, Arbella,” called Bess. “Humphrey and Thomas will keep you safe.”
The women watched for a few minutes then turned, walking towards the shade of the vivid silken tents where Lettice and Kate Howard were seated in the pavilion nearest to the water’s edge. From here it would be possible to watch Arbella’s antics. As Elizabeth approached, they rose in a graceful duet, making way for the monarch. Once Elizabeth was comfortable and had waved to Arbella, she turned to Lettice.
“Has Dampard returned yet?” she asked.
“Not yet, Elizabeth,” replied Lettice. “Dorothy is in the castle waiting. She is not coping well with the idea that her husband may be about to quell an invasion. It has taken Penelope all morning to persuade her to remain here and not to rush to her Uncle George at Lamphey Hall, which is only a few leagues away from Carew Castle. She seems to think she’ll be able to help.”
“Our treasured Calypso must not leave,” said Elizabeth, aware her voice sounded harsh but it was concern that laced her tone.
“I have positioned one of the household guards outside her door and another at the foot of the stairs leading to her quarters. She won’t be able to go anywhere without our knowledge.”
Elizabeth accepted a goblet of cool wine, before shielding her eyes against the bright sun, searching the vessels on the lake until she identified Arbella. It was with relief that she noticed the Cole brothers had rowed only a few strokes away from shore before dropping their lines over the edge. If anything happened and the boat capsized, there would be no danger of drowning, as Arbella would be able to stand in the shallow water.
“You have many guests, Lettice,” murmured Elizabeth, her eyes drifting over the laughing, colourful swathe of courtiers wafting around the grounds, enjoying the countess’s hospitality.
“It’s always easier to hide in a crowd,” she replied, “and while it’s well known you often stay here, I didn’t want you to be too easy to identify.”
“Is this the reason Bess has brought Arbella here?”
“Our security is extremely strong. There are many who think Arbella will one day be named as your heir, especially after your comment in May, and it’s imperative she is kept from danger.”
Elizabeth nodded. It was true that under different circumstances Arbella would have had the strongest dynastic claim to the throne.
“Now, if you will excuse me, Your Majesty, ladies, I must ensure things are progressing for this evening’s entertainment, as well as checking on Dorothy,” Lettice said. “I will inform you the moment Dampard returns.”
With a curtsey, Lettice glided away. Her footman, Dampard, was loyal to Lettice alone. He had served her for years and the women knew he would lay down his life for the countess and her children. Elizabeth watched her cousin out of sight, then beckoned to Katherine to sit beside her.
“I would like you to reply to Artemis,” she murmured. “There is so much going on, no one will hear me while I dictate my message. Bess, Kate, would you please ensure we aren’t disturbed.”
The two women moved forward so Elizabeth was obscured from sight, their eyes glued on the lake and Arbella. As Elizabeth whispered, Katherine scribbled down her words.
Sweet Artemis, your health continues to concern me, but my melancholic state lifts as my thoughts are drawn to our past. Oh sweet sister, what times! But as you say, we are now older ladies with grave responsibilities.
We have many to lavish affection upon us but I thank sweet God every day for you, my friend the nun, who can understand in a word what would take another a lifetime. This is why it is imperative that you watch those close to you, send word if you have even the smallest hint at subterfuge. These are dark days.
Sweet Artemis until we meet again, luncta sanguine, Venus.
Folding the parchment and concealing it in her palm, Elizabeth watched Katherine Newton as she hurried back to the castle where she would translate the words into code. Until a response came to one of their missives, there was nothing Elizabeth could do, so she abandoned herself to the velvet rays of the sun upon her face, the company of her closest friends and the spectacle of the afternoon as it unfolded before her.
There were games and music, dancing and at one point an impromptu swimming race among the young men. She noticed Bess’s eyes barely left her granddaughter and her activities. As the afternoon curved around them, lengthening their shadows and taking the sting from heat of the sun, her thoughts turned to the entertainments Lettice had planned. Soon, we will retire and this evening will enjoy a performance from my players, who have travelled with us from London, she thought. She hoped it would be a light-hearted comedy as, with all the unrest around her, she did not think she would be able to concentrate on anything more complicated.
Suddenly, Kate Howard was at her side.
“Elizabeth, Lettice wanted you to know that her man, Dampard, has returned,” she murmured.
Elizabeth turned to face her cousin and from the extreme pallor on Kate’s beautiful face she knew the news was the worst they could expect.
“Tell me,” Elizabeth demanded.
“He comes direct from the duke of Hereford; all the rumours are true.”
“They’ve discovered men loyal to Philip of Spain?”
“Worse,” said Kate, tears filling her eyes. “Carew Castle has fallen to the Spanish and Dorothy’s husband is being held hostage.”
“No,” Elizabeth breathed. “No, this cannot be.”
Her instinct was to rise, to run, to act, but Kate’s restraining hand kept her in her chair.
“There is other news, too. We have had word from H
enry Herbert; Pembroke Castle has so far resisted any attempt to be taken. The duke of Hereford has sent word that Ludlow and Cardiff Castles stand secure, as do Llansteffan, Picton and Manorbier. However, he fears that Tenby, Llawhaden and Haverfordwest Castles have fallen in a similar manor to Carew.”
Elizabeth felt the world tilt. She grasped the air as though trying to gain her balance and Kate took her hand. “Where is Lettice?” she gasped.
“She’s with Dorothy.”
“We must go to her.”
Elizabeth swept from her seat and set out across the undulating lawns towards the magnificent castle. Ignoring everyone, she marched through the entrance hall and up the curving staircase to the rooms occupied by the family when they were in residence.
“Where is Lady Perrot?” she demanded of the footman in Leicester livery at the top of the stairs. “I demand to see her at once.”
“Elizabeth, we’re here!” called Lettice’s voice as she flung open a door halfway down the corridor.
Elizabeth pushed past the guard, hurrying towards her cousin. “Kate has told me — is it true? Thomas has been captured?”
Dorothy lay on the bed, red-eyed from crying. On hearing Elizabeth’s voice she scrambled up to a sitting position. “Aunt Elizabeth, what shall we do?” she howled.
“Tell me everything you know,” said Elizabeth, perching beside Dorothy on the bed but looking at Lettice. “What did Dampard say?”
“One of Thomas’s servants managed to escape and made it to Lamphey Hall. He’s confirmed that there were many loyal to the old faith working in the castle. All had seemed like good honest fellows but they have apparently been in the pay of the Spanish all along,” she said, her voice faltering as the horror of the situation began to sink in. “Late last night, a ship made its way through the estuary from Neyland, along the Cleddau river to the mill pond by the castle. From there it’s only a short walk to the side entrance. It was cloudy, so they were unseen and their footsteps were silent. Their spies inside the castle opened the gates to admit them. Similar stories have come to Dampard from the other stricken castles. Haverfordwest is the worst. The captives are being treated roughly and the occupiers are threatening to burn anyone who is Protestant.”
The Elizabeth Tudor Conspiracy Page 10
