‘If I’m up, Robbie, then so are they. Give me an hour to dress and eat, and then you can take me riding. It is a lovely morning, and it would be a shame to waste it.’
‘As you wish. I live to serve you.’ Robert escorted Elizabeth from the room, and the rest of the council scurried to make arrangements for Francis Knollys’ journey north.
Chapter 50
elays of information from the north trickled slowly down the country. Walsingham’s network of spies was efficient; he had way stations all along the Great North Road with men and fresh horses constantly at the ready. But there was little to report.
The Council already knew that the Lairds had disapproved of the Scots Queen’s marriage to Bothwell. That Bothwell had captured the Scots Queen and forced her into marriage. That the capture was suspected to be feigned and the marriage planned well before the murder of Darnley. The only thing the Council really cared about was whether there was a plot afoot to replace England’s Protestant Queen with her Catholic Scots counterpart.
Cat was grateful to be able to observe Lettice without Francis’ tight lipped disapproval on display, but not by word or deed did her daughter indicate that she was madly, hopelessly in love. It was only that Cat, who knew her daughter better than she knew herself, could see there was a little flame ignited behind her eyes every time she looked at her beloved.
Cat saw that Lord Robert was as attentive towards Elizabeth as he had always been. He still sat next to her at dinner, making comments that made her laugh. That he no longer whispered these comments so his breath ghosted her neck and made her shudder with longing was Elizabeth’s choice.
Elizabeth herself just patted his arm, refraining from twisting her fingers through his and cupping his jaw with the palm of her hand, as she had been inclined to do; Cat knew the iron will behind Elizabeth’s self-control. They sat companionably, laughing and jesting as always, but now as two separate people instead of two halves of one whole. The difference shouted itself to Cat as she watched them, but she thought perhaps it wouldn’t be quite as apparent to others.
Robert danced every dance with Elizabeth, when that was what she wished. He was as good-humoured as he ever was with the other ladies of the court, exchanging jokes and pleasantries when the dance involved a change of partner, and when Elizabeth had to dance with other members of the court, ambassadors and foreign dignitaries, Robert found other partners, dancing with his sisters Kit and Mary, Lady Francis Howard, Lettice and even, as stately as a galleon in her perennial light grey, Margaret Clifford, Countess of Derby. Cat could find no fault with his behaviour.
Still Lettice glowed inside, and still Cat continued to worry, about her daughter, about her Princess and about her own husband’s reaction when he returned from his mission.
***
Because of the real danger to the Queen, the council decided that there would be no royal progress that summer. Nevertheless, Robert made arrangements for the Queen and the court to travel to his manor at Kenilworth for two weeks of festivities; the Royal Guard could accompany the court and patrol the estate as necessary.
The vast parklands would allow Elizabeth to indulge in her joy of riding, and there could be many picnics, hunts and other outdoor pursuits arranged for the entertainment of the Queen. Robert was well aware that upon their return to London, the Council would have more news from the north, and if anything urgent arose, Walsingham would ensure the information was brought immediately.
***
‘Thomas.’
‘My Lord.’
‘When we arrive at Kenilworth I want you to escort the Countess to rooms I have had prepared for her.’
‘My Lord? What about your own safety?’
‘I shall be with the Queen and have the protection of the Royal Guard. But I will not be able to leave the Queen and show the Countess her rooms, Thomas. And I want it to be discreet.’
Thomas nodded his head in acquiescence.
***
The vast train of the court rolled into the parklands of Kenilworth. Wagons and carts were filled with chests containing clothes, hangings, pots and even small items of furniture. The train was guarded by horsemen front and rear and many of the gentlemen of the court chose to ride. The ladies were in carriages, gossiping and laughing, followed by the squires and servants. Robert was, as always, in the carriage with Elizabeth.
The grooms and squires tumbled out of the stable yard to hold the horses as the men dismounted and the carriages and carts came to a halt in the sweeping drive. Robert climbed out of the Royal carriage and held out his hand to assist the Queen.
‘Welcome back, Bess. My home has been waiting for your return.’
Elizabeth smiled at Robert and looked up at the imposing entrance. She placed her hand delicately on his arm and allowed him to lead her up the steps and into the vaulted hallway.
‘Allow me to escort you to your apartments, my love. They are the ones you occupied last time, and they have been made ready.’
Elizabeth looked carefully at Robert, whose voice had held no inflection as he spoke.
‘Last time, Robbie? We had adjoining rooms last time,’ she whispered.
Robert gazed at her equably and smiled, leading her up the stairs and along the gallery. The noise from the rest of the court following them, with servants guiding them to their rooms along the eastern and western galleries, meant he could speak without fear of being overheard.
‘The room I occupied is now your sitting room, Bess. I have had suitable furniture put in there in case you want to withdraw privately, read, rest. I shall be on the northern gallery in my own suite.’ Elizabeth nodded and smiled her gratitude.
‘Thank you Robbie. For making it easier to observe proprieties away from court.’
‘I live to serve, Bess. You know that.’ They had reached the door to the Royal apartment and Robert pressed his lips to her knuckles and opened the door. Elizabeth looked round for some of her ladies and they all entered the rooms, looking round and running to the windows to see the magnificent view.
***
‘Letty.’ Lettice looked round to see who was calling her. Only her immediate family used that name, so she looked about and saw her brother Ed waving to her.
‘Letty, over here.’ Ed beckoned her from the gravel drive towards the stable yard, and Lettice looked at him with a puzzled frown on her face. She smiled at Anne Cecil, in whose company she had made the journey.
‘Please excuse me, Anne. My enormous little brother seems to want me,’ she laughed and shook her head, ‘you go on to the Queen’s apartments and I’ll be there presently.’ Anne nodded and hurried to catch up to the knot of other ladies passing through the hall and following the servants to the upstairs galleries. Lettice walked carefully over the gravel towards Ed.
‘What is it, Ed? That has you shouting at me across the stable yard?’ Lettice looked at him with all the dignity of an older sister that she could muster, and Ed gestured wildly round the corner.
‘Master Thomas wants you, sis. He sent me to get you.’ Lettice saw Thomas stood in the shadow of the stable, hand on the hilt of his dagger.
‘Thank you, Ed. Go along and help with the horses now. I shall see what Master Thomas wants.’ Lettice patted her brother’s arm as he grinned and rushed away. Lettice lifted her skirt a little higher and picked her way carefully over the stable yard towards the tall man standing in the shadows.
‘Thomas,’ Lettice’s voice was light with pleasure and she pressed her hand on Thomas’ arm.
‘My Lady.’ Thomas bowed briefly, and Lettice could see a light in the usually icy blue eyes and a twitch of the lips that may have been a smile. She beamed at him and tucked her small hand in the cr
ook of his elbow, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
‘I know Robin has sent you, Thomas. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. But why?’
‘I thought your brother calling you would be less obvious, my Lady.’
‘It was, Thomas. Such a clever idea,’ she squeezed her hand on his arm and felt his forearm twitch under her grasp.
‘My Lord Robert wants me to show you to your apartment, my Lady. Away from the rest of the court, and make sure you are safe.’ Lettice looked up at the dour man with a quizzical look in her eyes.
‘Away from the court, Thomas?’ she asked, ‘and safe? I don’t understand.’
‘My Lord’s orders, my Lady. I’m sure he will explain.’
Lettice nodded and smiled at Thomas again, patting his arm and walking in step with him towards a door concealed in the wall to the side of the stable block. He stepped forward and opened the door for her, bowing slightly as she passed over the threshold. Once they were inside she took his arm again.
‘Have you always worked for Lord Robert, Thomas?’
‘Yes, my Lady. I am his steward. My parents worked for his father the Earl, and my mother and sister still work for his brother.’
‘From the stable to the still-room, Thomas? By way of the sword, no doubt. And he pays you well?’ Thomas looked taken aback at such questions, and blinked at her before he answered.
‘My Lord is very generous, my Lady. And I am grateful to be in his service, no matter the task.’
‘Of course, Thomas. Please excuse my questions. I am just curious, that is all. I know very little about Lord Robert’s life outside his court duties.’
‘He is an exceptionally honourable man, my Lady. He is extremely loyal, and unusually kind for a man in his position.’ Lettice looked at Thomas, astonished that Thomas should describe Robert in such a way.
‘I have always found him so, Thomas. But I wondered if it was because ….’ Her words trailed away; she wasn’t sure if she should be speaking like this to Robert’s manservant.
‘My Lord is kind to most people, my Lady. The lads love him without question, he helps his family whenever he can and he made sure my mother and sister were safe even when he was ….. not.’ Lettice nodded solemnly, then looked about her. She had been so engrossed in her conversation with Thomas, she hadn’t noticed that they had climbed the stairs and walked along a quiet gallery, panelled in oak and hung with tapestries and small portraits.
‘Which gallery is this, Thomas?’
‘The north gallery, my Lady. That door there is the entrance to your apartment.’ He nodded towards a large ornate door with carved mouldings and a huge black latch. Lettice turned the latch and entered an enormous room, with a vast tester bed against one wall and a seating area grouped round an immense hearth. Sun streamed through the tall picture windows, gleaming on the highly polished furniture and lighting up the glorious colours and threads of gold in the fabrics used for the hangings on the bed.
‘Thomas, it’s beautiful. But am I the only guest on this gallery? Where is the rest of the court?’
‘On the other galleries, my Lady. There are more rooms on the east and west galleries, smaller rooms. The Queen is on the south gallery, in the Royal apartments.’
‘And Lord Robert?’
‘I am here, lovely Lily,’ Robert’s voice came from a doorway inside the room. As Lettice looked carefully, she could see a concealed door in the panelling to the side of the fireplace, and Robert was leaning carelessly against the door frame. She walked quickly over to him and he took her hands in his.
‘Thank you, Thomas. For delivering her safely,’ Robert smiled across at his manservant and Thomas nodded his head before closing the door behind him. The slap of the scabbard on the door told them he still stood in the gallery.
‘Robert, this room is beautiful,’ Lettice looked around wide-eyed.
‘I’m pleased you like it. I had it decorated especially for you.’ Lettice gasped and turned to Robert again.
‘For me, Robin? But, why?’
Robert drew her into his embrace and kissed her forehead gently. ‘Because I wanted you to have a special place in my home, Lily, as you have a special place in my heart.’ She dimpled with pleasure at his words and stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips softly.
‘Thank you, Robin. That is a lovely thought. But where are your apartments?’ Robert turned, still grasping her fingers and swept his arm towards the room connecting through the hidden door.
‘Here, my love.’
Chapter 51
obert ensured that the two weeks at Kenilworth passed swiftly, with the days filled with picnics and hunting and boat trips on the lake. He had organised archery tournaments as well as swordsmanship contests, hawking and horses to race. The evenings were filled with late suppers and dancing, but Robert also made sure that Elizabeth had time to herself, when she could have a rest from being the Queen. But all too soon the court packed up their belongings and returned to Westminster. Francis Knollys had returned from Castle Bolton with news from the Scots Queen.
‘What is there to report, Sir Francis?’ Will Cecil, hands clutching his lapels, paced the council chamber. Elizabeth sat at the head of the table with Robert at her left, biting her lip. Robert passed her a mug of small ale to distract her and she smiled and released her lip.
‘Well, Majesty, my Lords,’ he bowed, ‘the Scots Queen is brought low. Very low indeed. I felt quite sorry when I heard her tale.’
Elizabeth snorted derisively and Robert took her hand, ‘Allow him to speak, Bess. Hear what he has to say,’ he whispered, squeezing her fingers.
‘Carry on, Sir Francis. We would hear your report before we judge.’ Elizabeth’s voice was calm and clear, although Robert could still feel the racing pulse in her wrist.
‘Majesty. The Scots Queen tells me that her brother Moray took her baby son from her, and insisted on her abdication from the throne. If she had not complied, she says, he would have given her to the mob in Edinburgh. As it was, he imprisoned her in Loch Leven castle.’
‘And Bothwell?’
‘The Scots Queen says he arranged a plot to rescue her from her brother, Your Grace, but when the plot succeeded, he insisted that she marry him as a reward.’
Elizabeth’s eyes widened and Robert heard her sharp intake of breath. He stroked her knuckles soothingly, and brought her hand up to his lips.
‘And then?’
‘It would seem, Your Grace, that Bothwell had only divorced his wife less than a fortnight previously,’ Francis shuffled his papers, ‘twelve days, to be precise, and the marriage was a hasty affair. Her brother was incensed and mounted an attack on them, so Bothwell abandoned her and sailed for the Low Countries and she managed to escape over the border to Carlisle.’
‘Was it a marriage in truth, Sir Francis? Was it consummated?’
‘Your Grace, from the tears of the Scots Queen as her tale unfolded over many days, and with much heartache and sorrow, I would hazard that the marriage had been consummated many times, both before and after vows were exchanged.’
Robert smothered a smile in Elizabeth’s knuckles, and the rest of the council looked down and composed themselves, while Ralph’s pen scratched wildly across the parchment to note down everything Francis was saying. Elizabeth’s eyes widened and then she looked across at Cecil, still pacing as he listened.
‘What now, Will. Do we offer her sanctuary from the wrath of her country?’
‘I think we might, Your Grace. But I will have her moved from Castle Bolton further south. The Earl of Shrewsbury has offered to house the Scots Queen in whichever of his properties Your Grace thinks is suitable, Tutbury, Sheffield, Chatswort
h. They are all quite central, far from Your Grace, but equally far from the border with Scotland. The Earl’s wife is happy to be the Scots Queen’s custodian.’
‘Hmph. She’ll soon learn to hide her sorrow then. Bess of Hardwick doesn’t suffer fools gladly, and the Scots Queen won’t find much sympathy for her broken heart there.’ Elizabeth looked at Cecil and nodded, ‘Have her moved, Will, together with her household. Ask the Earl and Countess which house is the most prepared for additional members; I have no preference.’
Cecil nodded, and then returned to the table to consult his list for the next item to be discussed.
***
'My Lord Robert. A word if you will.’ Robert stopped mid-stride along the gallery at Westminster and looked round, seeing Sir Francis Knollys coming up behind him. Thomas stepped back to merge with the wall.
‘Sir Francis? Of course, my Lord. Would you like to speak privately?’
‘That would be most wise, my Lord.’ Robert’s eyes widened. He felt a prickle of apprehension, then shook it off.
‘Then we can go to my apartment, Sir Francis, and speak there. It is only a few yards that way.’ Robert swept his arm the way he had already come, and Sir Francis turned around. Robert exchanged a glance with Thomas, who nodded imperceptibly and followed at Robert’s shoulder.
As they entered the apartment, Robert moved towards the side table and poured two cups of wine, offering one to Sir Francis and gesturing that they should take a seat. There was silence for a moment or two, and Robert waited to hear what Sir Francis wished to speak to him about.
‘These are new apartments, my Lord?’ Sir Francis looked round the room and raised his brows.
‘They belonged to the Countess of Lennox, my Lord. I have occupied them since she left court. I occupy her old rooms in Richmond and Whitehall too, as well as Hampton Court.’ Robert’s forehead creased in puzzlement at the strange conversation.
The Last Howard Girl (Tudor Chronicles Book 3) Page 36
