by David Field
‘We will soon be able to rival Spain?’ Elizabeth asked eagerly.
Robert nodded. ‘It wants only the ships — we have navigators enough and soon they will return to our shores loaded with riches.’
‘This is well done,’ Elizabeth replied, ‘but I grow tired. Return on the morrow and we will take supper together while you delight me with further detail.’
As Robert bowed and turned towards the chamber door, he saw Cecil waiting quietly to approach the presence. He called back accusingly at Elizabeth, ‘Tired or no, I doubt not that this man will be allowed longer audience.’
He swept from the chamber and Cecil advanced and tried to ignore the almost comical appearance of the lady he had served for over twenty years, to which Blanche had alerted him in advance. Having kissed the proffered hand, he smiled.
‘It is so good to see Your Majesty restored to good health.’
‘Good health perhaps, Cecil, but hardly good looks,’ Elizabeth snapped back curtly. ‘On which subject, pray advise my Council that I am unable to attend while I may still be at risk of passing my affliction to them. I have no doubt that they will be only too pleased to hear that. But I have in mind appointing another to assist you in resisting the wilder proposals of my more addle-brained Councillors, most notably Norfolk, who seems to think that the nation belongs to him by ancient right.’
‘Majesty?’
‘I wish to appoint a new Privy Councillor, Cecil,’ Elizabeth repeated grumpily. ‘Have I grown indistinct of speech, as well as ugly of appearance?’
‘Far from it, Your Majesty, in either of those particulars. I merely await your instruction as to who the new Councillor might be.’
‘You passed him on your way in.’
‘Robert Dudley?’
‘And why not? He is serving the nation well in the matter of increasing its navy, which we may well need if we are to transport men and arms across the sea to assist the Dutch in throwing the Spanish off their lands.’
‘But...’
‘But what, Cecil?’
‘Robert is not the most popular man at Court, Your Majesty.’
‘He is with me, and I have other plans for him.’
‘May I share in Your Majesty’s intentions?’
‘Indeed you may, Cecil, since it will fall to you to implement them. In my current hag-like state, it is unlikely that even the oldest and ugliest prince in Europe would consider sharing a marriage bed with me, so we must look to some other means of securing alliances, and preferably with France or Scotland. Since the two are connected in the person of my cousin Mary, we must find a husband for her and preferably an English noble who may divert her from her Catholic ways. The chosen person will be King Consort of Scotland and well placed, through Mary’s French associations, to approach France for a treaty of perpetual peace and mutual assistance in times of foreign aggression, which for England means from Spain.’
‘An excellent ruse, Your Majesty,’ Cecil replied, despite his misgivings, ‘but at this moment I cannot think of such a nobleman in England.’
‘Then we must create one, must we not? Now that he is to become a member of my Privy Council, it is fitting that Robert be ennobled. Which titles are currently available?’
Despite his shock at this proposal, Cecil knew the English nobility like the back of his hand. ‘There is the vacant Earldom of Leicester, my Lady —’
‘Your Majesty!’ Elizabeth snapped. ‘See to it, Cecil. Robert shall become Earl of Leicester, and shall be offered as a husband to Mary of Scotland.’
‘But ... that is ... forgive me, but do you not wish him for yourself?’
‘Of course I do, Cecil, but I love him too deeply to condemn him to wake up each day to the sight of me, with a complexion like a toad’s arse. He must be ennobled and married off to the Scottish baggage. That is my command. Now leave me, ere the bounds of friendship be exceeded.’
Cecil bowed and walked sadly from the chamber. He was only a few yards down the hallway when he heard a sibilant hiss behind him and turned. Blanche came scurrying down the hall after him and grabbed his arm as she looked furtively behind her, then whispered urgently, ‘Do not be disheartened by her manner towards you, cousin. In truth she is much distressed regarding her loss of beauty and she has a toothache besides, no doubt brought on by eating all those sweetmeats of which she is so fond. We must bend our heads against the storm and hope for fair weather in due course.’
‘But in the meantime, must I carry out her commands?’
‘It were best that you do, William, for in her present mood it would mean the Tower for you, were you to disobey. And now I must get back inside there, for another morning of ill-tempered instructions. Wish me luck.’
Cecil watched her retreating towards the Audience Chamber and felt pity for her. And for the nation, if it was to continue like this. He could only hope that Elizabeth had not lost her wits as well as her looks.
IX
‘You do me great honour,’ Robert murmured as he put down his eating knife in order to place his hand affectionately over Elizabeth’s as they sat at supper. She gently slid her hand from under his, in a silent indication that the familiarity was not welcome and reached across the board for an almond glazed in honey.
‘The title of Earl of Leicester has been bestowed upon worthy predecessors,’ she said. ‘It was once held by Simon de Montfort and after him John of Gaunt. They were both great Englishmen and I hold you in the same regard, Robert.’
‘Why my sudden preferment?’ he asked nervously. ‘Must I trade it for a place in your heart?’
‘Enough talk of that,’ Elizabeth pouted, ‘since it can only be in mockery. The fresh-faced young girl you once embraced in the coppice at Hatfield has become a pock-marked old woman.’
‘I can still look into your face and see that beauty,’ Robert insisted, ‘and in any case it is the woman within who has captured my love forever.’
‘Dissemblance,’ Elizabeth muttered as she felt her cheeks glow with exhilaration. ‘With the title come many estates, including Kenilworth, which I seem to recall once belonged to your father,’ she told him.
Robert’s face set in disdain. ‘Before he was executed by your wicked sister. Since then I am advised that it has become a ruin and will cost many thousands of pounds to restore.’
‘You are in danger of forgetting that I too suffered under my sister’s vile rule,’ Elizabeth reminded him. ‘She all but blamed me for the many challenges to her throne, one of which of course came from the Dudleys, who sought to place your brother’s wife, the Lady Jane, in Mary’s place.’
‘We neither of us need to remind ourselves of those terrible days, and how — at our lowest ebb — we were allowed to meet in the Tower. I shall never forget how my heart leapt to see you again in all your natural fresh beauty.’
‘Tosh, Robert,’ Elizabeth murmured. ‘I resembled a drowned rat, wearing a prison gown that clung to me with my own sweat. That said, I would happily resume that state, were I able to rid myself of this dreadful curse on my face.’
Without warning Robert leaned in sharply and kissed her cheek before she could recoil. Tears began to well in her eyes as she looked at him severely through the light mist that they formed over her vision. ‘Must you torture me in this way, dearest Robert? I know I am hideous to view, yet you persist in assuring me that I still have your heart.’
‘Still and forever,’ Robert murmured as he leaned in again.
This time Elizabeth was prepared and she pulled back. ‘You mentioned the cost of restoring Kenilworth. Shall you require a loan from my Treasury?’
‘No, but thank you anyway for that generous offer,’ Robert said. ‘The wealth I expect to acquire from Master Hawkins’s voyages will be more than sufficient, as you shall learn when your own investment is returned tenfold.’
‘Where does he journey?’
‘To the far southern ocean, where he will load slaves to carry across to the Indies. Then he will sell the slaves
for gold, sugar and spices and speed back under a westerly to realise his fortune. And ours, of course.’
‘Can such a fortune be carried in only one vessel?’
‘There are three of them, a second one commanded by his cousin, a man called Francis Drake, who has ambitions to journey across the world to discover new lands and riches. We should offer to finance his venture, I suggest, since while he is conquering the ocean he will be showing the Spaniards that Englishmen are the superior sailors.’
It fell quiet, but Elizabeth still had the most important task ahead of her. ‘How much do you love England, Robert?’
‘Not as much as I love you.’
‘Aren’t they one and the same? While you prove your love for the nation, you demonstrate your love for its Queen, do you not?’
‘Then there must be many who love you dearly,’ Robert said.
‘So I believe, and I thank God each day for the love shown to me by my people. But from some I must ask more. Those who are best placed to assist England must bear the greater burden.’
‘What is it you seek from me, to prove my love, as if I had not shown it a thousand times already?’
‘I wish you to journey to Scotland.’
‘At the head of an army? You have but to command.’
‘Not with an army, dearest Robert. A few armed men, perhaps, to ensure your safety.’
‘As an envoy, then?’
‘Yes, in a very important sense. Mary of Scotland must be wed to an English lord, in order to secure a lasting peace, both with that nation and with France, that together we may with safety seek to free the Low Countries of the Spanish yoke.’
‘And you wish me to negotiate the peace terms that shall follow upon such a match?’
‘We can leave that to Cecil, I believe.’
‘I was about to mention him,’ Robert replied. ‘Why do you seek to send me in his stead? Why must I venture ahead of him, then leave the detailed peace treaty for him to hammer out?’
‘Because of the delicate nature of the preliminaries. The English lord who is to be proposed as a bride for Mary must be a high-ranking Protestant I can trust.’
‘Clearly. Who have you in mind?’
‘Yourself, Robert.’
The sudden chill in the atmosphere was palpable, as Robert’s eyes opened wide in amazement and his jaw dropped in disbelief. Elizabeth’s eyes took on a pleading look as they stared each other out for a full minute, then Robert dropped his eyes to the damask cloth.
‘You insult me, madam. Not only do you insult me, but you reject the love I have always offered to you with an innocence which I never thought you would betray. Now you seek to use me as a pawn in your ambition to silence the French whore for good. Well, hear this, Elizabeth of England. I will face a thousand enemy swords single-handed, I will sail across storm-tossed seas to discover new lands and riches for England, and I will lay down my life on the block should it be necessary to defend yours. All of this I will do for England. But for its Queen I will ever hold the flame of passion aloft, awaiting the day when she finally consents to be mine. Yet never, never, ever will I sully that love by wedding another. Of that you may rest assured. And so I seek your gracious leave to withdraw — the night has suddenly become chilly in my heart.’
Without waiting for leave to be granted he rose from the table, gave a stiff bow and walked swiftly to the chamber door while Elizabeth was seeking the words with which to frame an appropriate reply. She had thought of none by the time that the doors closed behind Robert’s departing figure and she let out a long animal howl of anguish and self-pity.
Behind the arras beyond the half-open door, Blanche Parry deemed the moment appropriate to withdraw. She had, as requested, been listening for any verbal signal from her mistress that she should enter the chamber and put a stop to whatever inappropriateness might be taking place. But she had also promised her cousin Cecil to act as his eyes and ears and she had a good deal of which to warn him.
‘He said all that?’ Cecil asked disbelievingly as Blanche reported the conversation to him the following morning. ‘I have never known the popinjay be so gifted with the English language.’
‘I may have misremembered some of the actual words,’ Blanche admitted with a frown, ‘but the sentiment was unmistakable. He will not do it.’
‘We shall see about that,’ Cecil replied. ‘Once I have everything in place and can so advise Her Majesty, she will have his head if he still refuses.’
‘She would not take Robert’s head, surely?’
‘Would she not? Have you not noticed the change in her since her illness? And you her closest companion?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Before she fell sick, she could always rely upon her belief in her own beauty to win men’s hearts to her bidding, like a simple country wench will employ her art and charms to hook herself a local squire. Now she feels that God has betrayed her, pitting her face with those unseemly scars. She is angry at God, bitter within herself and determined to rule by sheer fear and force of personality, if need be. If I judge her aright, any refusal by Robert to do her bidding will twist in her breast like an assassin’s dagger. She still loves him, but fears that he can no longer bear to look upon her. You are a woman — how would you feel if thus placed?’
‘I am over fifty years of age, cousin,’ Blanche replied, ‘and no man ever showed the same devotion to me that Robert has poured upon my mistress, so I cannot judge. But of this I can assure you — Robert forswears to do her bidding and you will have a mountain to climb to change his mind, even should the Scots Mary be willing.’
‘We shall see, cousin, we shall see,’ Cecil said confidently as he led her gently by the hand through the door of his inner chamber, in a polite indication that their meeting was over. As he walked back through the outer chamber, he called out to Tom Ashton. ‘Tom, seek out a man called Thomas Randolph, who resides in Thames Street somewhere. Bring him back with you, then remain with us for the conversation that will follow.’
Two hours later the man who had once been an English diplomat in the German states, and who had already, on Cecil’s bidding, made covert contact with the Earl of Arran, one of the leaders of the Protestant faction in Scotland, was seated in front of Cecil, with Tom Ashton perching on a stool to the side.
‘Thomas,’ Cecil said warmly once the introductory pleasantries were out of the way, ‘are you still in communication with the Scottish Earl James Hamilton?’
‘The Earl of Arran? Why yes,’ Randolph replied.
‘And how go matters for Protestants in his country?’ was Cecil’s next question.
Randolph shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of indecision. ‘Middling well, although they are apprehensive that once Mary has established her rule more firmly, she will lead her people by the nose back to Rome.’
‘So they would welcome the prospect of her becoming heavily influenced by an English noble of strong Protestant persuasion?’
‘Undoubtedly, but it is to be questioned whether she would listen to Arran himself, since he is a rival for her crown, although he seems to be growing a little feeble of wit, to judge by some of his recent letters.’
‘But he could be used as a means of obtaining audience with Mary without the rest of the Scottish Parliament becoming aware of it?’
‘Probably, although there could be no guarantee.’
‘I will settle for the mere possibility,’ Cecil said. ‘I wish you to take yourself to Edinburgh, or wherever this Arran may be found, and prevail upon his good offices in order to acquire an audience with the Scots Queen. Then you are to advise her privily that Elizabeth wishes to secure the succession to her crown by appointing Mary as her heir, in recognition of which she will be offered the hand in marriage of one of our leading nobles, the newly elevated Earl of Leicester.’
‘Dudley?’ Randolph asked in mild surprise. ‘Is he not the Queen’s favourite?’
‘And more besides, if the rumour be true,’ Cecil nodded
, ‘but all the more reason why he can be prevailed upon to do Elizabeth’s bidding.’
‘That should prove no hardship, on this occasion,’ Randolph replied. ‘They say that Mary of Scotland is beautiful. And, of course, she still enjoys her youth.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Cecil muttered dismissively, ‘but Dudley will do what he is told, for love of Elizabeth and not because of any natural lust for a beautiful lady.’
‘Why is this young man present?’ Randolph asked with a sideways glance at Tom Ashton, who had been a silent witness to their conversation.
‘Because of his unique talents,’ Cecil explained. ‘Not as a clerk, since his work in that regard is slipshod and grudging. But if there is a lock to be picked, a keyhole to be listened at, or a young maidservant to be seduced for information, then he is invaluable. I wish him to become acquainted with Scotland, since I have a feeling in my waters that we shall be much engaged there in matters of, shall we say, secretive activity in the next few years.’
‘You fear that the Scots will prove false, my lord?’
‘I have no doubt whatsoever that the arrogant and headstrong Mary will pursue what she regards as her rightful claim to the throne of England, hence the carrot that we are dangling under her nose to become Elizabeth’s heir. If you were offered a brand new house, fully furnished and with a household of trusted servants, would you burn it down?’
X
Cecil studied the long dispatch from Francis Walsingham. Walsingham was proving to be a valuable addition to ‘Master Secretary’s’ spy network, but the news he had to impart presaged some careful diplomacy on Cecil’s part.
The Queen Dowager Catherine de Medici seemed destined to be Regent of France for the next decade or so, given that the heir, her son Charles, was only ten. In an effort to maintain stability within the realm until he came of age she had urged tolerance towards those Protestants within the country who had become generally known as ‘Huguenots’, in the same way that Elizabeth in England had been quietly tolerating Catholics. In this Catherine was strongly opposed by the powerful Guise family, one of daughters of which had supplied France with its recent Queen, Mary of Scotland.
