Queen of This Realm

by Jean Plaidy

  Whereupon he called the surgeon and in a very short time one of his teeth was pulled out. He uttered not a cry, but sat still holding a kerchief to his mouth with a look of triumph on his dear good face.

  After that I had no alternative but to submit to the operation and in a very short time it was performed. Aylmer was right—a short sharp pain was infinitely preferable to that continuous nagging agony.

  Such devotion filled me with gratitude and I would never forget John Aylmer's action and whenever I saw him afterward I asked him how many teeth he had left and he would tell me with a smile and add that every one of them was at my service.

  I was fortunate in the men I had chosen to surround me. Years afterward, looking back, I often thought that one of my greatest gifts was an ability to sift the wheat from the tares. I had the greatest men in England serving me, which was tantamount to serving their country, and I have never forgotten—and as I grew older this became more clear to me—what I owed to these good and clever creatures.

  Robert during this time was inclined to be sullen. His hatred of Simier made me laugh. He said that the man was a poseur, a twittering Frenchman, a man whose chief concern was the cut of his coat.

  I replied: “Dear Robert, you dress rather splendidly yourself.”

  “I trust I do not mince and prance like your little French favorite.”

  I pretended to be annoyed with him and said that I intended to keep my charming friend at my side, not only out of courtesy to one who came on such an errand but because I happened to like his company and found it more amusing than that of some others.

  I expected Robert to be overcome with remorse and seek a way of regaining my favor; but he was not and did not; instead he asked for permission to leave Court and this I peremptorily gave.

  Rumors concerning the evil powers practiced by the French emissary persisted and it was believed that they came from the jealous Leicester; but the people in the streets were saying that I was being wooed by sorcery and that the Queen Mother of France was noted for dabbling in the black arts.

  Realizing that such rumors were having an adverse effect on his courtship and guessing from where they emanated, Simier decided to have his revenge.

  He came to me one day, his eyes sparkling with excitement which at first I thought was pleasure in seeing me. He took my hand and kissed it in that particularly fervent manner of his which so pleased me and said that his master was growing more and more impatient.

  “When I write to him and tell him of your perfections, he is all eagerness to taste your sweetness. He cannot understand why you are so cruel as to keep yourself from him. Your Majesty, I beg you to say the word which will make him the happiest man on Earth.”

  I began the usual protest. I was an old woman. Our religions were different. My people did not care for a foreign marriage.

  He lifted his hand and said: “May I ask Your Majesty one question. Is it because your affections are given elsewhere?”

  I pretended to be astonished. “There are no other negotiations for marriage at this time.”

  “I mean one near to you … one of your own subjects. I refer, Your Majesty, to the Earl of Leicester. It is said that you are so enamored of him that he will always stand between you and any marriage that you might make.”

  “The Earl of Leicester has been my very good friend for many years.”

  “Yet he keeps secrets from Your Majesty.”

  “Secrets? What secrets?”

  “Such as his marriage.”

  “Marriage!” I cried, taken off my guard. “For some months, Your Majesty, the Earl of Leicester has been the husband of that lady who was previously the Countess of Essex.”

  “This cannot be true.”

  “It is a matter which is well known to most. Only Your Majesty appears to have been kept in the dark.”

  I cannot describe my feelings. That he should have dared! That he should have deceived me so! Robert…to marry that woman! It was her fault of course. She had captured him… worked her magic on him. The she-wolf! How I hated her!

  Simier was all concern.

  “I should have broken the news more gently,” he said. “I thought you must be aware of it…as so many are. It is distressing to hear news of a subject's perfidy. Pray give me leave to retire and send your ladies to you.”

  I did not attempt to stop him. When he had gone and my ladies were with me, I cried: “Send Burghley to me … Sussex … Walsingham … I would have word with them without delay.”

  One of my ladies put a chair for me to sit in. She would have given me a concoction to smell for she feared I was going to faint, but I pushed her angrily away.

  Sussex came with Burghley.

  I cried: “Did you know that Leicester is married? He has married that she-wolf whom I took into my care.”

  They said they knew.

  “Everyone knew … except the Queen!” I cried. “By God's Precious Soul, how can I ever trust those around me again?”

  “My lady … Your gracious Majesty …” said Sussex, “the news was kept from you out of concern for you.”

  “Concern for me! When those two scoundrels conspire against me!”

  Sussex said gently: “It cannot be said that they conspired against Your Majesty. They decided to marry, and they have a perfect right to do so. They are not royal persons who need the consent of the Sovereign.”

  “They deceived me! They deceived the Queen! Let Leicester be sent to the Tower at once.”

  Sussex looked at me earnestly and shook his head.

  “Do you hear me!” I cried.

  He said: “I hear Your Majesty, and I must tell you that you cannot send Leicester to the Tower because he takes an action which he has a perfect right to do.”

  I glared at Sussex. “You would tell me, my lord, what I must and must not do?”

  He looked at me steadily. “If I thought it was for the good of Your Majesty, I would risk displeasing you.”

  There had always been something noble about Sussex. He prided himself on doing what he considered right. I could see that Burghley was gently shaking his head; warning me that I must curb my anger. I must not let people see how deeply Robert's defection had wounded me.

  Sussex was saying: “Your Majesty must consider the effect such an action would have on the people. If they saw how great was your anger, they would believe those evil rumors which were once circulated about you and Leicester. I tell you this because I am prepared to risk your wrath in my zeal to serve you well.”

  “And you, Burghley?” I said.

  “Sussex is right, Your Majesty. You cannot condemn a man for entering into an honorable marriage if he is in a position to do so.”

  “They have deceived me all these months. When I was at Wanstead… even then…”

  Both men regarded me solemnly.

  “I will never have her at Court,” I said. “I never want to see her evil face again. As for him… let him not think that he has escaped my anger. He is dismissed from Court. Let him go to Mireflore Tower in Greenwich Park and stay there.”

  Sussex sighed with relief.

  The first shock was over.

  I WANTED TO SHUT myself away, to grieve in private. I had never known torment of this intensity. I could not stop images coming into my mind. I saw them together… that woman and my Robert. And how long had they been deceiving me, laughing at me? How dared they! I would never forgive them… either of them… certainly not her. She should be banished forever. I was already beginning to long for Robert's company, to think how dull the Court would be without him. It would be amusing to command him to return to Court and let his she-wolf wait for him to come back to her, which I would make sure he had little chance of doing.

  I called on his sister Mary. She was disturbed to see me in such a state. I could see her lips quivering behind the veil she wore.

  I said: “The rogue…to deceive me so…to marry that woman. Devereux died … conveniently, did he not? And after all I have done
for him… What would he have been without me?”

  “Sir Robert Dudley,” said Mary quietly, “member of an illustrious family.”

  “Many members of which managed to find their way to the block… through their own pride!” I cried tersely.

  “My grandfather went to the block to appease the people who blamed him for the taxes imposed on them by your grandfather.”

  “Rogues!” I shouted. “The entire family. I should be thankful that I found out in time.”

  She said: “If Your Majesty will give me leave to retire … You will understand I cannot remain to hear my family insulted.”

  “You talk of insults. That brother of yours…he has taken everything and given nothing.”

  “He would have given his life for Your Majesty.”

  “Oh, Saint Robert! Lustful Robert who cannot keep his hands from a harlot!”

  “Your Majesty is beside herself…”

  “I would I were beside them. I would send them to the Tower… both of them… and imprison them in different towers. I would imprison them in spite of Sussex.”

  “Your Majesty is too wise to do any such thing.”

  “Wise!” I cried. “To trust those who have betrayed me!”

  Mary was weeping silently and I found it hard to look at her, for even in such a moment I remembered all that she had suffered for my sake.

  I turned away and went to my apartments where I shut myself in… alone with my grief.

  The next day I heard that Mary had left Court. I wondered whether she had gone to him. They were a devoted family—those Dudleys; and they all looked on Robert as a god. They thought there was no one like him and so—God help me—did I.

  Within a few days my anger against him relented. It was not his fault, I continually told myself. It was that she-wolf. She had special powers of sorcery, and what man could stand out against that? He had been seduced by that wicked woman.

  I sent word that he might leave Mireflore for Wanstead if he wished. So he went and I suppose she joined him there. I heard that Mary Sidney was with them. No doubt they were discussing the fall of the Dudleys. Let them. Let them think he had ruined his chances at Court forever.

  I took his picture out of the little box in which I kept it. How handsome he was. How well the artist had caught that look of distinction which no other man I had ever seen had possessed. I wept a little over that portrait. I kissed it and put it carefully away.

  Then I plunged into an even more intense flirtation with Simier whom I affectionately called My Monkey.

  I WAS ASSUMING a gaiety I did not feel to show my indifference to Leicester's marriage. Rumor reached me that Robert was furious with Simier for telling me of it as he had. Of course I should have had to know in time. I supposed Robert had been trying to formulate some brilliant scheme for breaking the news to me and making his excuses.

  One day when I was on my barge not far from Greenwich, Simier came to join me there. We were laughing as we sailed along the river and the musicians were playing sweet music to the accompaniment of a boy singer. Whenever I passed along the river my people came out to wave to me and I never failed to show my pleasure and my gratitude that they had come to greet me. There were plenty of other craft all round for it was a pleasant day.

  “The cheers, little Monkey,” I said to Simier, who was standing beside me, “are for me and not for you.”

  He smiled and he said that he doubted the people saw him; all else would be blotted out by my dazzling presence.

  “They see you,” I said. “There is no doubt of that, but perhaps some of them are not very happy to see you. My people are not enamored of foreign marriages. I remember their feelings when my sister married into Spain.”

  “Ah, but your bridegroom will come from France, which is quite different from Spain. The Spaniards are so solemn, are they not? You would not say that of the representatives of France, would you, Your Grace?”

  “Not of my dear little Monkey, most certainly.”

  Then suddenly in the midst of this banter the shot rang out. It had been discharged from a boat nearby. One of the bargemen fell fainting to the ground not six feet from where I stood.

  There was shouting and screaming. The noise was great. Simier had turned very pale and was looking at me in horror.

  “Your Majesty is unharmed,” he said. “Thank God.”

  “It was meant for me …” I murmured.

  “No, Your Majesty, I think not. I believe it was meant for me.”

  I tore off my scarf and gave it to one of the bargemen. “Bind up that poor man's wounds at once,” I said, “and have him attended to.”

  Several people were round him and it was discovered that he had been shot in both arms.

  They said afterward how calm I was. I could be calm in such moments. How different from the virago who had screamed for vengeance when she heard of Robert Dudley's duplicity!

  The man who had fired the shot was shouting his innocence. He had meant no harm, he insisted. The gun had gone off by accident.

  We returned to Greenwich and there I was prevailed upon to rest.

  I knew Simier thought that Robert had made an attempt on his life, but I did not believe that Robert would have placed me in the slightest danger. He was too fond of me. I was sure of that. If he had married her, it was because he had decided that I would never have him and, wanton slut that she was, she had appealed to his senses. I could always pick out that sort of woman. And Robert was weak in that regard; he was, after all, a man. It would have been different if I could have taken him. Robert was not really to blame.

  When they brought the man to trial he turned out to be a certain Thomas Appletree who swore with conviction that he had never been part of any plot and insisted that his firearm had gone off accidentally. He said he was in no way to blame for what had happened and if he had harmed his beloved Queen he would have turned the weapon on himself.

  I intervened and said he should be pardoned for I believed in his innocence; and I asked his master to retain his services.

  “Your Majesty is gracious and merciful,” said Sussex. “There is a doubt and you have given this man the benefit of it.”

  “My lord Sussex,” I replied, “I would not believe anything against my subjects which loving parents would not believe of their children.”

  This remark was repeated. Thomas Appletree, I knew, would be my devoted subject for the rest of his life, and the people loved me more than ever after the shooting on the barge.

  Simier, however, continued to believe that it was a plot arranged by Leicester in revenge for his having told me of the clandestine marriage.

  NEWS WAS BROUGHT to me that Robert was very ill at Wanstead.

  “Serve him right!” I said. “He deserves to be ill. He is suffering from a surfeit of conscience, and I hope it plagues him for a very long time.”

  But that night I could not sleep. I pictured him, pale and haggard, on his sick-bed calling for me, begging my forgiveness, longing for me to speak a few gentle words to him. What if he did not recover? What if he were on his death-bed?

  The next morning I decided that I was going to see for myself how ill Robert was. I sent a message to that effect to Wanstead which would warn the she-wolf to make herself scarce if she happened to be with him.

  Wanstead was not far out of London and an easy journey. As soon as I reached the house I went straight to his apartments.

  He looked very pale and wan lying there. I went to his bedside and seating myself, took his hands in mine.

  “Robert!” I cried in dismay. “You are really ill.”

  I had half believed that he was shamming and had invented this to win my sympathy. I had put up some very good shows of delicacy myself in the past and it was not surprising that I should suspect others of doing the same.

  He opened his eyes and smiled at me faintly. He was murmuring something and to catch it I had to bend over him. “My gracious lady …you came…to see me.”

  I was s
o worried that I spoke very sharply. “Of course I came. You knew I would. In spite of your folly… still I came.”

  I touched his forehead. It was not hot. Thank God, I thought, there is no fever.

  I said shortly: “I shall stay here until you are better.”

  He smiled and shook his head with the melancholy expression of one who knows his end is near.

  I was still a little unsure and I was really hoping that it was a pretense for I knew I could not bear for him to pass out of my life. It would be so empty without him and if he were shamming I was only glad that he had gone to such lengths to bring me back to him. I forgave him. Then I kept reminding myself that men were weak creatures and that the she-wolf was a sorceress.

  “Now, Robin,” I said, “you have been overeating, I doubt not, and drinking too much and indulging too freely generally in the so-called pleasures of the flesh. That is changed now. I shall look after you and my orders will be obeyed.”

  He smiled fondly and happily, I thought.

  “Why, you already look better,” I said.

  “Of course I do. That is your healing presence.”

  I stayed with him for three days at Wanstead while I tended him myself and at the end of that time he was well again—apart from touches of the gout.

  I spoke to him very seriously: “Robert,” I said, “you are a fool.”

  He looked sheepish. “I know it well,” he answered ruefully.

  “You do not take care of yourself. You eat like a pig. Your complexion is growing very ruddy and you are too fat. I remember you so well when you came to Hatfield…”

  “Ah, I remember too. I had sold my lands to provide the money you might need.”

  “And I made you my Master of Horse. You were not heavy then, Robert.”

  “We all must grow old… save you.”

  “I also, Robert—although I fight against it. It is a losing battle and time will win in the end. But I shall put up a good fight in the meantime and so must you, Robin…so must you.”

  “What should I do without you?” he asked.