by Karen Harper
He gaped at her but obeyed. With a silent prayer of thanks for her deliverance, Elizabeth Tudor rolled to her knees and stood, trembling yet triumphant.
Epilogue
JANUARY 23, 1571
SIR THOMAS GRESHAM’S MERCANTILE EXCHANGE WAS completed at last. After a sumptuous banquet at Gresham House, the queen with her nobles made an official visit for its opening.
“I recall the first day I saw this grand edifice, Thomas,” she told him as he helped her down from her coach amidst cheers from the crowd in the street.
“I do, too, Your Grace,” he said, nodding. “It was barely a foundation then, and that traitor Badger, long imprisoned now, hovered close.”
The entire city seemed to hover close along her journey here today on freshly graveled streets. Church bells clanged, houses were decked with carpets and bunting, and people ran along behind the queen’s coach and entourage. How she loved her people, even the rowdy, blue-gowned apprentices and the pompous lines of guild members, bowing and doffing their caps. If only she had gotten her hands on the former chief constable from the Skinners’ Guild before he’d fled north, some said to Scotland. She’d have skinned him for what he had done to Meg and for his mockery of justice in her realm.
From the balconies above, lutes and guitterns began to play but were drowned out by the royal trumpeters here for the occasion. She could barely hear Thomas when he spoke. “But I hope you do not harbor thoughts of those difficult times that shortly followed that first visit here, Your Grace.”
“How I wish I had Marie’s faulty memory for those days, but all is well that ends well.” They waited for her ladies to arrange her cloak before they entered the building. She was as gorgeously decked out as the exchange was today, in her new fashion of white satin with cloth-of-gold accents and white ermine on her black silk cape. She still favored huge ruffs, now not cartwheels but standing ones, with dangling jewels and pearls, though she wore black pearls today—and knew that, too, would begin a new trend.
“I am pleased that you and Anne seem to get on well, Thomas. She is proud of you, I warrant,” she added, patting his arm. Slowly, with him limping and leaning on his walking stick, they entered the inner courtyard through the arches, under the proud Gresham grasshopper emblem.
“Somehow Hannah’s death gradually helped to heal our marriage,” he admitted, raising his voice above the noise. “And, of course, our united joy for Marie-Anne’s happiness in her betrothal.”
“Sally is thrilled about the coming wedding. She will make Marie a fine, loyal maid over the years—much as her mother has served me.”
To be certain her servants were here, too, Elizabeth glanced back, past her retinue of nobles. With the lords and ladies came her dear Cecil and his wife, Mildred. She intended to bestow a great honor on her friend next month, for she planned to ennoble him as Baron Burghley. Behind the Cecils, over to the side, stood Jenks and his wife, Ursala, pregnant with their third child. Beside them, she glimpsed Meg and Ned, whispering together. Ned’s nose had never recovered from the fisticuffs he’d engaged in to help save Meg from Whitcomb, but he was all to the good for it—not so vain, and he played the villains even better in court dramas.
After a tour of the courtyard where England’s financiers would bargain and trade for goods, Thomas led the queen and her company up the stairs to the second floor with three sides of shops. Though it was not yet dusk this chill day, the entire area glowed with the wax lights she had heard Thomas had ordered to be displayed. In turn, he’d given the lucky shopkeepers a year’s free rent.
“Look at the bounty!” the queen called to the press of people coming up behind her. “Let us support Sir Thomas’s grand endeavor with our choices and our coins!”
Everyone, especially the women, mobbed the pretty shops. It was worse, Elizabeth thought, than that wild melee of animals she’d lived through at Smithfield the night that murderer Dauntsey was trampled to death and her big yeoman Bates was knocked over the head so hard it took him days to recall who he was. Ah, but Elizabeth of England always knew who she was, and since that horrible night when she fully came to grasp the power of revenge, she had used her might more judiciously, even when Parliament was driving her to distraction.
God knows, she’d lived through terrible trials since her Privy Plot Council had solved those drownings five years ago. Plague, plots, rebellion, even excommunication by the pope, which she, like her father before her, considered a badge of honor. She intended to live through much more to rule and reign.
She, too, strolled the booths, admiring their delights. Rolls of thick-piled velvet and shimmering silks in the newest shades of dead Spaniard, popinjay blue, lady’s blush, and lusty gallant. She made a special stop at the van der Passes’ new shop to admire their array of goods.
When she caught Dirck’s eye, she told him, “I hope that no one hangs about your shop to lure your buyers away.”
“Vould serve me right, Your Majesty, but I learned my lesson.”
“So have we all,” she said to herself as she turned away. Though she was but thirty-seven, she felt she had come far, not only to mount the throne but to keep and tend it. And she would face whatever was yet to come.
She nodded to Cecil, who sent a runner to the trumpeters. When their fanfare began, everyone turned to see what was happening. With one hand raised, Elizabeth called out in her clarion voice, “On this special day for London and our realm, I wish to bestow two favors. To my beloved people, I declare that each Sunday on these grounds in good weather shall be presented a concert by the queen’s musicians at no fee to which all are invited. And to my loyal servant and founder of this mercantile exchange, Sir Thomas Gresham, I give a special honor. I do proclaim this is henceforth the Royal Exchange of England, to be designated and so called!”
Cheers went up as word spread through the crowd. The queen, with Thomas, walked to the balcony and waved to the press of people in the courtyard below. Again she smiled at those closest to her, couples all: the Cecils; the Greshams; Marie and her betrothed; Meg and Ned; Jenks and his Ursala, her hand tenderly placed on her breeding belly. Why, even the Queen of Scots had a son, but none of them had, nor ever would have, Elizabeth’s dear lover England.
The cheers and the music swelled again as several stepped forward to present her with keepsakes from the shops. “I wish I could give you all gifts so you could begin a thousand new rages of fashion,” Thomas said to Elizabeth as he put his arm around his wife’s waist.
“Even a queen can’t have everything,” she told him, and blinked back tears to force a smile. But, she thought, turning away to wave again to those below, her best royal fashion would ever be to rule alone with charm and might.
Earlier Events in Elizabeth’s Life
1533 Henry VIII marries Anne Boleyn, January 25. Elizabeth born Greenwich Palace, September 7.
1536 Anne Boleyn executed in Tower of London, Elizabeth disinherited from crown. Henry marries Jane Seymour.
1537 Prince Edward born. Queen Jane dies of childbed fever.
1544 Act of Succession and Henry VIII’s will establish Mary and Elizabeth in line to throne.
1547 Henry VIII dies. Edward VI crowned.
1553 Queen Mary (Tudor) I crowned. Tries to force England back to Catholicism; gives Margaret Stewart, Tudor cousin, precedence over Elizabeth. Queen Mary weds Prince Philip of Spain by proxy.
1554 Protestant Wyatt Rebellion fails, but Elizabeth sent to Tower for two months, accompanied by Kat Ashley.
1558 Mary dies; Elizabeth succeeds to throne, November 17. Elizabeth appoints William Cecil secretary of state; Robert Dudley made master of the queen’s horse.
1558 Elizabeth crowned in Westminster Abbey, January 15. Parliament urges queen to marry, but she resists. Mary, Queen of Scots, becomes queen of France at accession of her young husband, Francis II. Elizabeth knights Thomas Gresham, who writes economic plan for her reign.
1560 Death of Francis II of France makes his young Catholic widow, M
ary, Queen of Scots, a danger as Elizabeth’s unwanted heir. Thomas Gresham becomes queen’s unofficial financial advisor.
1561 The widowed Mary, Queen of Scots, returns to Scotland.
1565 Mary of Scots weds Lord Darnley.
1566 Mary, Queen of Scots, bears son James. Elizabeth defies parliament about marriage.
Elizabeth I Mysteries by KAREN HARPER
THE POYSON GARDEN
THE TIDAL POOLE
THE TWYLIGHT TOWER
THE QUEENE’S CURE
THE THORNE MAZE
THE QUEENE’S CHRISTMAS
THE FYRE MIRROR
THE FATAL FASHIONE
PRAISE FOR KAREN HARPER AND HER ELIZABETH I MYSTERY NOVELS
THE FATAL FASHIONE
“Entertaining … . Harper skillfully interweaves fact and fiction, presenting a heroine who is as intelligent and gutsy a crime solver as she was a real-life monarch.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Harper brings the period vividly to life, develops characters from the earlier tales, and makes the Virgin Queen a sympathetic, ambitious, and patriotic woman … . [O]ne soon is swept up in the rush of events in a turbulent time skillfully described. Recommended for all collections.”
—Library Journal
THE FYRE MIRROR
“An appealingly courageous detective.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“A truly vibrant protagonist, thoroughly satisfying characterization, attention to detail, and credible plotting mark this as an outstanding historical.”
—Library Journal
“Fabulous … a thrilling reading experience … Fans of the Ursula Blanches series by Fiona Buckley will definitely love this glimpse into a bygone era.”
—Midwest Book Review
THE QUEENE’S CHRISTMAS
“Wonderful historical detail mixed with intrigue … a real treat for those who enjoy historical mysteries.”
—Booklist
“Nicely blends intrigue, humor, and period detail.”
—Wall Street Journal
THE THORNE MAZE
“Brilliantly plotted and authentically detailed.”
—Booklist
“The novel’s true pleasure is the re-creation of Elizabeth I’s court, the manners of the day, the fêtes, the sumptuous clothes, all of which Harper brings wonderfully alive.”
—Miami Herald
“Harper is to be commended for keeping to what we know about Tudor history … . and for making the factions of Elizabeth’s court clearer than many history books have done.”
—Chicago Tribune
“A wonderful web of drama and deceit that would make Shakespeare envious … this is great stuff.”
—Toronto Globe and Mail
THE QUEENE’S CURE
“A neatly plotted mystery with genuinely terrifying scenes.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Fully rounded, sometimes baroque, but always engaging … the plot quickens to the very end.”
—Booklist
“Superb … a winner.”
—Amazon.com
“[A]n Elizabethan fan’s delight … [with] several red herrings that will delight the heart of mystery lovers.”
—RomanticTimes.com
THE TWYLIGHT TOWER
“Harper’s exquisite mastery of the period, lively dialogue, energetic plot, devious characters, and excellent rendition of the willful queen make this a pleasure for fans of historical mysteries.”
—Library Journal
“The sleuthing is fun but what makes The Twylight Tower comparable to the fine works of Allison Weir is the strong writing of the author.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Exciting … and as cleverly crafted as only Karen Harper can be … a hugely appealing and fast-paced tale that keeps the reader satisfied and yearning for more.”
—Romancereviewstoday.com
THE TIDAL POOLE
“A nice mix of historical and fictional characters, deft twists and a plucky, engaging young heroine enhance this welcome sequel.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Harper delivers high drama and deadly intrigue … she masterfully captures the Elizabethan tone in both language and setting … Elizabethan history has never been this appealing.”
—Newsday
THE POYSON GARDEN
“Impressively researched … the author has her poisons and her historical details down pat.”
—Los Angeles Times
“Intoxicating … whether you love history, romance, adventure, or mystery, you will be intrigued by this view of Elizabeth as queen and as a brilliant detective.”
—Romantic Times
“A walk side-by-side with one of history’s most dynamic characters.”
—Anne Perry, author of Half Moon Street
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ALTHOUGH WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WAS ONLY EIGHT YEARS OLD at the time this story ends, and this series may not stretch far enough to encompass his heyday in London, I am honoring his works in this book by including more than one set of twins, something he had great fun with in his plays. He also portrayed constables as bumblers and fools. I have studied Shakespeare for years and did my master’s thesis on his All’s Well That Ends Well, so he provides rich research for this mystery series even without appearing in it.
As for the concept of twins in my story, besides the von Hoven and the Hemmings sisters, Clifford and Dirck greatly resemble each other. Meg has for years (and in other books in the series) served as a double for the queen, and on it goes. But the real twinship in the story is the light and dark sides of everyone, the good and evil, like the pretty, glowing pollen that is also poison. That is the fatal fashion of mankind.
Among the things Thomas Gresham left behind at his death is a portrait of twin girls by a Flemish painter. This hangs at Titsey Place Manor House in Surrey, once the country home of Gresham’s uncle John. The two girls in the painting are not identified, so, taking into consideration that his mistress bore him a child, I have imagined who the twins might be.
The Royal Exchange that stands in London today is the third building with that name on that site. The Gresham building burned in 1666 during the Great Fire of London; its replacement went up in flames in 1838. It was rebuilt in 1844, during the reign of Queen Victoria. The Royal Exchange is still one of the traditional sites from which new kings and queens are announced and sits today in the heart of London’s commercial district.
Britain’s first public lavatories were built in the forecourt of the new Victorian Exchange in 1855. These were, no doubt, water closets that were a far cry from the jakes used on London Bridge or in tall castles over rivers in Tudor times. However, Queen Elizabeth would not have approved of the early Exchange privies, as they were exclusively for male use.
Like William Cecil, Sir Thomas Gresham was one of the men on whom Elizabeth relied heavily for good advice. She cried openly when she heard Gresham had died at age sixty in 1579.
His widow, Anne, twice tried to overturn his will to get more money. She also failed to make repairs on the Exchange until Elizabeth issued an order saying that “the queen will take great offense if so beautiful a monument is suffered to decay.”
Yet Anne Gresham remained a problem, petitioning Parliament to grant her more money from her husband’s will, which provided her with the generous annual income of £2388 and £751 from the Exchange itself, a goodly fortune in that day. Parliament rejected her demands, but she did manage to have a more expensive funeral than her husband had seventeen years before.
HERE IS AN EXCERPT FROM The Hooded Hawke—
KAREN HARPER’S NEW ELIZABETH 1 MYSTERY
Now available in hardcover from St. Martin’s Minotaur
ST. JAMES’S PARK, LONDON
MONDAY, AUGUST 1, 1569
THOUGH SHE WAS RIDING SIDESADDLE WITH BUT one hand holding the reins, Elizabeth Tudor spurred her horse to a faster gait, forcing the others to keep up with her. Her
crimson hair spilled loose from her snood, her skirt flapped, and the hooded hawk perched on her leather-gauntleted hand spread her great gray wings as if to fly.
The queen was desperate to escape the palace, where problems proliferated like rabbits, or rather, she thought, like rats—perhaps even the sort that leave a leaking ship. She heaved a huge sigh.
“Your Grace, what’s amiss?” her dear friend Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, who alone kept pace beside her, asked. “Do you feel well enough to test the new hawk?”
“Of course I do! I’ve led you a merry chase this far today.”
Even her longtime court favorite’s fervid attentions hardly helped her disposition, however dashing he looked ahorse. He was attired much too grandly for riding and flying her new gerfalcon, the breed fit for a king. Robert, whom she had called Robin all the years they had known each other, had given her the hawk as an early birthday gift.’S blood, she was nearly thirty-six, she realized, and shook her head, which tumbled more tresses free.
With the excuse of testing the prowess of the bird, the queen had brought a small entourage on a morning’s robust ride. She could not wait for her summer progress through Surrey and Hampshire that she had just decided on last night. Though she’d chosen hosts for the journey who needed testing themselves, it always heartened her to be out among the common folk of England.
