The Last Howard Girl (Tudor Chronicles Book 3)

by Lesley Jepson

  ‘We wouldn’t want you to move to Scotland, Robbie. We would want her to live here, and leave her Regents in place up there.’ Elizabeth spoke quickly but was still avoiding his eyes and chewing her lip distractedly.

  ‘Why?’

  Walsingham smiled his serpent’s smile, ‘Because the Regents are favourable to our Protestant cause, my Lord. Because their Queen is a staunch Catholic and you, my Lord, are a staunch Protestant. And because, my Lord, if she’s here, we can make sure she isn’t part of any Papist plot to overthrow our Queen.’

  ‘And you all think to offer me as her husband?’

  ‘”Offer” isn’t the word I would have chosen, my Lord. “Propose” might be a better way of phrasing it. We would have lengthy negotiations to go through first,’ Cecil, ever the diplomat, adopted a soothing tone, but Robert was fast becoming in no mood to be soothed.

  ‘And would I be party to these proposals, this negotiation?’

  ‘Of course, my Lord. Your opinion would have every consideration.’ Walsingham again. Robert turned his baleful glare on the spymaster, conscious of the scratching of Ralph’s pen, and Walsingham had the grace to look away.

  ‘”Consideration”. And once considered, no doubt to be ignored. My Lord.’ Robert spoke mockingly.

  Elizabeth rose from her chair. ‘Leave us,’ she commanded. Cecil gathered his papers together, as did Ralph. Walsingham got to his feet, bowed to the Queen and left the room silently. Ralph and Will Cecil bowed and also left, and Elizabeth walked the length of the Council chamber to take Robert’s hand in hers.

  ‘Forgive me, Robbie. I did not think you would be so hurt.’

  ‘It hurt me that you found it such a jest, Bess. You were laughing at me.’ Robert let go of her hand and walked to the fireplace, pouring himself a cup of wine.

  ‘No, Robbie. I would never do that. And I insisted that she be required to live here, rather than you go there. Cecil and Walsingham thought it a viable idea,’ she finished helplessly. Robert continued to sip his wine, trying to subdue the rising anger he felt towards her for playing him for a fool. His guilty conscience over Lissey Sheffield was subsiding under his ire.

  ‘Bess, I understand, and I endure as best I can, the constant negotiation for your hand, from France, from the Low Countries, from the Hapsburgs. You have told me you won’t marry, and I believe you. But for you to want to ….. barter …. me to another political alliance? I’m sorry, Bess. I could not bear it.’

  ‘I’m sorry too, Robbie. I have not thought how difficult you must find this political dance we do for the good of the realm. I know in my heart the negotiation will always come to naught, but how it must look to you? I had not realised how hard you must find it. I ask your pardon.’ Elizabeth walked to stand before him, and took his hand in hers, kissing his palm and then cupping it under her jaw.

  ‘I pardon you, Bess. Of course I do. I love you. But I will not pardon them,’ Robert nodded his head towards the door, and then took a long swallow of his wine.

  ‘Then let us talk of other things, Robbie.’ Elizabeth walked to the window seat and pulled him behind to sit beside her. ‘What have you been doing this morning? Tell me what you do.’

  Relief flooded through Robert; he could tell Elizabeth exactly what he had done this particular morning. ‘I have been training the squires, Bess. I want to have them display their prowess at your birthday celebrations, before the joust. Some of them are becoming very proficient with the sword, and a couple of them will be champion archers in a few years.’ Elizabeth beamed at him.

  ‘Oh, Robbie. I so look forward to what you have planned for my birthday. Your celebrations are always so beautiful.’ Robert thought Elizabeth was almost bouncing with excitement, but somehow had the feeling that, at least in part, her enthusiasm was feigned. Elizabeth looked forward to celebrations, but with a quiet, decorous demeanour; he felt her deception was designed to soothe his battered ego. He felt anything but soothed, yet he put on a show of telling her all about his plans, before she was called away and he could take the opportunity to escape.

  ***

  Robert stalked angrily into his apartment, Thomas at his shoulder as always. As he passed the side table laden with a tray of goblets and a large jug full of wine, he swept the whole onto the floor in an unusual display of rage then overturned the table and swept his arm along the dresser, scattering the things there onto the floor.

  ‘God’s blood Thomas, they mock me. She allows them to mock me. They wish me to take a wife for their own nefarious ends, at their convenience. Well by God, Thomas, I will not.’

  ‘My Lord.’

  ‘I cast off my wife for her. I destroyed Amy for her, destroyed my opportunity for an heir for her, and yet she allows them to treat me thus. It is not to be borne, Thomas. It is not!’

  ‘No, my Lord. But, my Lord?’

  ‘What is it, Thomas?’

  ‘Your voice, my Lord. There are spies everywhere, and I am in here.’

  ‘And there is no-one to guard my door, you mean? Yes Thomas, you are right. I must guard my tongue. No-one must think to question anything. We would be ruined. I would be ruined.’

  ‘My Lord.’

  ***

  ‘And what else did Ralph say happened, Meg? Before he was ordered from the room.’ Cat chewed on a honeyed sweetmeat and cuddled her baby grand-daughter Dorothea.

  ‘Well, he told me Cecil and Walsingham were really in favour of the marriage. Before Lord Robert arrived in the room, they had mapped out some terms of negotiation to be presented to the Regents in Scotland.’

  ‘And the Princess? Did Ralph say how she felt about it?’

  Meg adjusted Penelope’s position on her own lap, and glanced over to the other end of the room, where the nursemaid was helping Jane and Dickon with a complicated game involving the doll’s house.

  ‘Ralph is of the opinion that the Princess was under the impression it was a jest. They are also negotiating with the Earl of Arran for her hand, which as we know will come to nought. Ralph thinks that the Princess thought they were teasing her, by using the negotiations they had mapped for Arran, to use with the Queen of the Scots and Lord Robert.’

  ‘But Lord Robert didn’t think it was funny, Meg. Whatever was said in the meeting, I have been told by a maid that he almost wrecked his apartment in his wrath. They had to replace the rug, because it was soaked in wine,’ Cat laughed, ‘and do you remember how Norfolk used to hurl the cups into the fire? Well, they had to take the goblets to have the dents hammered out.’ She laughed even louder, then hushed herself so she didn’t disturb the baby.

  ‘Did the Princess say anything, Cat?’

  ‘No, she didn’t. But she bit her lip bloody that afternoon. I shall take some of your salve with me when I go, if you please.’

  ‘Did you know the Earl of Arran is to be invited to her birthday celebration, Cat? Ralph was telling me who Cecil has invited for political reasons, and he was one of them, as well as all the Ambassadors, of course.’

  ‘Dear God, Meg. Lord Robert will be incensed. I hope we don’t have to stay for very long. I would be happy to leave after the meal. But Lettice will be going back to court then; it will be her first event since her confinement.’ Cat looked down at the sleeping baby, then over at Meg. ‘They are two beautiful girls, Meg. She is so thrilled.’

  ‘So they should both be, Cat. A safe delivery for both mother and child is everything.’

  ‘Walter hoped for a son,’ Cat shrugged, ‘I’m sure they will try again. And speaking of sons, I wanted to ask you, Meg. Do you think there is something wrong with Dickon? Francis is worried, but you see him more than I do.’

  Meg laughed, and both Jane and Dick
on looked up from their game and smiled.

  ‘No, Cat. Honestly, he will be quite alright when he is a little older. He is a little slow with his speech, but he understands everything he is told. Is it because he has problems with the first letter of a word sometimes?’

  Cat nodded, and Meg laughed again. ‘It is because he is growing up with Jane. When Henry and Mary were their age, you were in Frankfurt so you wouldn’t have noticed. Henry didn’t speak at all until he was three. We had physicians examine him, his ears, his mouth and tongue, anything that might prevent his speech. We were so worried.’ Cat looked at her friend and shook her head in astonishment.

  ‘But we knew he could hear; he obeyed me, his nurses and anything Mary said to him he acted upon. Then we realised that Mary spoke for him, anything he wanted to say, she would say ‘Henry says’, or ‘Henry wants’; he didn’t need to speak, the lazy little monster. Jane does the same for Dickon, although he will speak sometimes, usually about food.’ Meg giggled and Cat snorted a laugh.

  ‘Definitely my son then, not a changeling,’ laughed Cat, and she helped herself to another sweetmeat before the baby woke up.

  Chapter 29

  obert knew the bright dawn of the September morning, with dazzling sunshine that would soon chase the slight tendrils of autumnal mist away would make the Queen’s birthday celebration a success. The promise of a warm day was a relief, and Robert was up early to organise the squire’s tournament before the joust being held during the morning. Then he had arranged a picnic by the lake, with all the boats decorated like Venetian gondolas, and the boatmen would be dressed like those in Venice, with poles instead of oars, should anyone wish to go out onto the water.

  In the afternoon, anyone who felt able could join a boar hunt that would take place in the nearby forest. Unbeknown to the ladies of the court, the men knew there would be no boar, but Robert had arranged for some piglets, lambs and some dainty fauns to be dressed in the Queen’s livery. The ladies would hunt and ‘capture’ these delightful animals, and it would add to the charm of the day. They would be clean, in case anyone wanted to hold them, of course, but they would still end up in the palace kitchen. Just on a different day.

  The evening meal would be a triumph for the palace cooks, with every type of game or poultry displayed and offered, with beef, venison and pork as alternatives, together with colourful vegetables, sugared fruit, syllabubs, sweetmeats and a never ending supply of wine. Robert knew that many of the foreign ambassadors were being invited. Cecil would never miss a political opportunity to impress with a show of majestic power, and many negotiations were often started, or indeed concluded, at such events, with only the finer detail being agreed later by the clerks.

  ***

  Elizabeth sat on the platform which was decorated in the Venetian fashion, with swirls of black and white fabric, surrounded by the ladies and gentlemen of her court and clapping her hands at the prowess of the squires Robert had trained. Robert was seated next to her before he went to the joust, and she would grip his hand at the slightest moment of excitement or tension. She bent towards him constantly to whisper words of praise for his tutelage, or to point out one squire or another who had impressed her, asking his name, or which family he came from. He bent his own head towards her, whispers ghosting her skin and making her shiver in pleasure. He brought her hand to his lips, blowing softly over her knuckles as he had always done, before kissing her hand, and when she looked at him, he saw nothing in her eyes but the love she had always had for him. Robert felt as if he was an actor in a play, and nothing was real.

  The squires had done him proud. Tom Sadler and Ed Knollys had won all their bouts against the other squires, and the final was between those two boys, firm friends outside the tourney ring, heated rivals within.

  They circled one another, then saluted with their swords. Ed came forward, his powerful shoulders giving him the edge for the first thrust, but Tom, slender like his father, danced away and parried Ed’s strike. Ed struck again, and once again Tom parried, turning a full circle then thrusting under Ed’s blade and taking him by surprise. Ed dropped into a crouch and passed his blade from hand to hand, thinking what to do next. Tom waited patiently. He knew all his friend’s moves, and he knew what this delaying tactic prefaced. Ed would stand upright and power forwards.

  Tom waited, pacing in front of his opponent like a dancing master, then Ed stood and rushed towards Tom, who stood his ground, parrying the blade easily. He wasn’t as solid as Ed, but his slight frame belied a tremendous strength in his shoulders and arms and, just as Ed was tiring from the crashing of his sword against Tom’s, Tom gave what looked like a flick of his wrist and Ed’s blade went flying out of his hand into the dust.

  The whole court applauded Tom’s victory, and Ed clapped Tom on the back in good- natured defeat. Tom put up his sword and bowed to the dais where Elizabeth was sitting with Robert, and she stood and tossed him a velvet purse with the satisfying chink of coins within.

  ‘Well done, Tom,’ she called, laughing and clapping at his victory, ‘you are quite the swordsman.’

  ‘Thank you, your Majesty. But it is Lord Robert who taught me that trick.’ Tom bowed his head in acknowledgement of his thanks to Robert, who smiled and nodded back. He knew how much time Tom had taken to practice that move, either with himself or with Thomas, who had taken to the boy like no other. What looked like a simple flick of the wrist was actually a move that used the power of whole shoulder, concentrated into the wrist. The strength and muscle control behind that move was extraordinary, and once learnt would stand any swordsman in good stead. Tom had been a good pupil.

  ‘I shall best you in the archery, Tom,’ shouted Ed as he retrieved his blade. Tom laughed.

  ‘I have no doubt about that, Ed. Your arm is more powerful than mine in the draw.’ Tom snorted another laugh as his friend threw his arm around his shoulders as they walked back into the stable yard together. ‘And you have better eyesight.’

  ‘For when I go to sea, Tom. I shall need good eyesight to spot the Spanish galleons I intend to capture,’ Ed trotted away towards the water barrel to get a drink before the archery started, then turned to laugh back at Tom, ‘so you may keep your velvet purse of silver, Tom. I intend to be a very successful pirate, and will have riches of gold beyond your wildest dreams.’

  ***

  ‘Countess!’ Robert bowed, ‘Congratulations on the birth of your second daughter, my Lady.’

  Lettice curtseyed and smiled her thanks. ‘Thank you, Lord Robert. She is a beauty and a delight to her sister Penelope.’

  ‘How could she not be a beauty with you for her mother, my Lady? And I’m sure she is a delight to her parents as well.’

  Lettice looked at Robert curiously, to divine whether he was being serious.

  ‘Thank you for that compliment, my Lord. She is a delight to me, at least. Her father is disappointed that she isn’t the son for which he and his mother are so desperate.’ She took a drink of her wine, and looked round to see if there was still something to eat nearby. Coming back to court after Dorothea’s birth meant she had become unused to the amount of wine the court consumed, and she felt quite light-headed. Robert saw her unsteadiness and took hold of her elbow, guiding her to sit on a small settle in the corner, away from the crowd of courtiers who were preparing to dance.

  ‘I’m sure there is plenty of time, my Lady. You have only been married what, two years is it? Since you glided down the aisle floating in a cloud of embroidered ivory silk?’ Robert took a drink of his wine and smiled down at Lettice’s upturned face.

  Lettice realised he was waiting for a response and mentally shook herself. ‘You have an excellent memory, my Lord.’

  ‘I remember beauty, my Lady. And you were astonishingly beautiful that day. As you s
till are, of course. Motherhood certainly suits you.’ Robert smiled and raised his goblet in tribute to her beauty, then took a deep swallow. Lettice watched his throat bob above his collar and felt herself start to become hot. She took a deep breath and looked into her own wine cup so he wouldn’t feel her eyes on him; she didn’t trust herself to reply so the silence lengthened.

  ‘Your husband is going to Ireland in a few months, I believe, my Lady?’ Robert finally broke the stillness.

  ‘Yes.’ Lettice almost jumped at the sound of his voice again. ‘He is looking forward to going away to war. That is another reason he is disappointed in his new daughter. He would have liked an heir actually in the cradle before he left.’ She lowered her voice and raised her cup to her lips, speaking into its depth as if voicing her thoughts aloud to the wine. ‘Now it means he will need to have at me again before he leaves, in the hope I conceive a son for his return.’ She took a large swallow of wine and didn’t see the incredulous look Robert gave her.

  ‘You make it sound as if he finds bedding you a chore, my Lady.’

  ‘And I’m sure you can understand, Lord Robert, how easily chores can be avoided if one is sufficiently determined.’

  Lettice gave Robert a dazzling smile, then jumped suddenly to her feet. ‘May I give you a word of advice, my Lord?’

  Robert stood and smiled at Lettice, looking at her quizzically, ‘Of course, my Lady.’ She stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, and he bent his long frame over her so he could hear above the chatter and music in the hall.

  Her breath ghosted over his skin as she murmured, ‘Tell Lissey Sheffield to either wear the same perfume as the Queen, or none at all. You smell of jasmine, Lord Robert.’ He gasped and looked at her in horror, then hid the look in his eyes quickly.

  Lettice smiled again and hurried into the throng to escape any further comment, taking her husband’s hand for the dance and doing her best to ignore Robert as he walked to the dais and bowed to the Queen.