A Favorite of the Queen: The Story of Lord Robert Dudley and Elizabeth 1

by Виктория Холт

  She prayed: “Oh God, help me in this task. Help me to play my part nobly and honorably.”

  She was filled with emotion. Her greatest desire had been granted; she must prepare herself to fulfill her duty and be worthy of the role. She was even glad of her misfortunes for she had come safely through them, and they had taught her more than easy living would have done.

  All these people who cheered her now should be her first consideration. She would not be foolish as her sister Mary had been. Mary too had ridden into London to the cheers of her people; but these same people now called her Bloody Mary; they reviled her for making a Spanish marriage and bringing foreigners among them; they blamed her for the loss of Calais; they rejoiced that she was dead.

  It should not be so with Elizabeth. They should love her, these common people, all the days of her life. They were her strength; she would sacrifice anything rather than their devotion. She must never forget that they were the pillars which supported the throne.

  At this sacred time she was oblivious of the picture she made in her purple velvet; she had forgotten her Master of Horse; she was only a Queen, determined to rule wisely, determined to make her country great.

  It was a solemn moment when she entered the Tower.

  All the officials were waiting to make obeisance to her. She dismounted. All about her were the nobility of England; and instead of the pride she had expected to feel at such a time, she was conscious only of a deep humility.

  The words she spoke were spontaneous. “Some,” she said, “have fallen from Princes in this land, to be prisoners in this place; I am raised from being a prisoner in this place to be a Prince of this land. That dejection was a work of God’s justice; this advancement is a work of His mercy. As they were to yield patience for the one, so I must bear myself to God thankful, and to men merciful for the other.”

  She turned then to the Lieutenant of the Tower.

  “Conduct me now to those apartments which I occupied when I was a prisoner here.”

  This was done, and she went into them wonderingly; and in great emotion she fell once more upon her knees and thanked God for her deliverance. “For,” she said, “like Daniel I have come safely out of the lions’ den, and I shall never forget His Mercy.”

  There was no sign of the frivolous girl on that memorable day when Elizabeth came to the Tower of London as Queen.

  Mary was buried with great pomp, and the Queen attended the burial. Dr. White, the Bishop of Winchester, preached the funeral sermon, and that day he proved himself to be a bold man.

  He spoke of the late Queen, sighing over her many virtues, and he spoke with vehement regret. She had been a wise woman, a great Queen; she had renounced Church Supremacy; she had declared that St. Paul forbade women to speak in Church and that it was not therefore fitting for the Church to have a dumb head.

  How dared he speak thus! brooded the young Queen, as she sat quietly before him. How dared he, the old graybeard! He doubtless saw only a young woman sitting before him; he would have to learn something of the spirit within that youthful body.

  Fortunately the sermon was in Latin and there were few who understood as Elizabeth did.

  He wept when he talked of Mary, declaring that their greatly lamented Queen had left a sister who was a worthy lady whom they were all obliged to obey. This they must do perforce. Melior est canis vivus leone mortuo.

  The blue eyes were burning points of fire. She a live dog and Mary a dead lion! He should learn something of the lion heart beneath these glittering queenly jewels. The insolent man clearly did not understand the nature of his Queen. A live dog indeed!

  As Dr. White left the pulpit, the Queen rose. She cried to her guards: “Arrest that man.”

  The Bishop lifted a hand to hold off the guards who had immediately sprung forward to carry out the Queen’s orders.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, “it is in my power to excommunicate you unless you insist that your subjects adhere to Rome.”

  Her father would have sent him to his death. But she was not yet as strong as her father, although in one way she was stronger. The years of danger had taught her to curb her anger when it was necessary to do so. She could see in the Bishop’s eyes what she believed to be a fervent desire for martyrdom. She would not let him indulge it. The people had hated persecutions. She had stopped them, and men such as this Bishop should not goad her into restarting them.

  Calmly she watched her orders being carried out. Let him cool his fanaticism in prison. Time would show her how to act, for Time was as important to a Queen as it had been to a captive Princess.

  The Queen gathered together her Privy Council. William Cecil was at her right hand, and she gave the Great Seal to Nicholas Bacon; and of the late Queen’s Council, Lord William Howard, with Arundel and Sackville, were allowed to remain in office.

  So far none had noticed the tender looks which she bestowed on her Master of Horse. His office meant that he must necessarily be in constant attendance; and the fact that he had been chosen for the post aroused no comment. His knowledge of equestrian matters was undoubtedly great; and all agreed that no one looked quite so magnificent on a horse as the handsome Dudley.

  But during those first weeks of queenship, Elizabeth’s thoughts were more of state matters than of love. Each morning she awakened to a sense of power and excitement, but never did she forget those lessons she had learned during the days of adversity.

  Her first task was to break away from the Pope, and this she must do without offending her Catholic subjects, for they were many. Therefore there should be no overt break. The change should be gradual, so that she might feel the temper of the people as she made it.

  The Mass was still celebrated in all churches, and Elizabeth attended regularly; but on Christmas Day she left the church after the service and just as the Bishop was preparing to conduct High Mass.

  She had taken a firm step in the direction which she intended to follow, but not another step should be taken until she knew the effect her conduct would have on the people.

  There was no doubt about the verdict on her conduct. Too many remembered the Smithfield fire. England was not made for fanaticism; the English loved Justice too much to have any regard for its natural enemy, Persecution. Only a few deplored her action and those—considering the case of Dr. White, who might so easily have become a martyr for his public abuse of her—did not believe that she would persecute them as her sister had persecuted the Protestants.

  Elizabeth knew then that it was safe to take the next step, and on another great occasion—that of New Year’s day—she proclaimed that the church services were to be held in English.

  Thoughts of her Coronation occupied her mind. She looked forward to it with great eagerness; it had figured largely in her dreams; and now she wished to discuss it with one whose triumph was her triumph and who should have his prominent part to play in its ceremonies.

  What a joy it was to be in his company during those days of preparation! It seemed the more exciting to her because they were never alone together. Always surrounding her were her Councillors of state or the ladies of her bedchamber. Poor Robert! She knew he was at times incensed, for how could he say what he wished in the presence of these people! He must keep his distance, address her as his Queen; he must play the subject, never the lover. Her royalty was between them now as once his prison walls had been. Yet each day she knew that she was more deeply in love with him, for if she did not see him she was fretful and disappointed. She could not continually demand to know where he was. She was trying to exercise her usual caution. She would not wish to tell the Court that she was in love with her Master of Horse.

  I verily believe, she thought, that I would marry him. But he has a wife. Does he forget that, the sinful man!

  She should be grateful to that woman. What was her name? Anne? Amy? She pretended not to remember. Stupid little country wench! What had she had to attract him in the first place?

  There was nothing she liked
so much as to escape from her councillors and sit among her courtiers—if Robert were with them—and talk of pleasure: masques, balls, and all the ceremonies which must attend her coronation.

  “I doubt not,” she said one day, “that the Lord Mayor and his fellows will give me as good a Coronation as they gave my sister. Would I knew which would be the most propitious day. What do you think, my Lord Dudley?”

  “The day would be unimportant, Your Majesty.”

  “How so?”

  “The very fact of its being your Majesty’s Coronation day would make it the greatest any of us had ever lived through.”

  “What means the man? Do you know, Mistress Ashley?”

  “I think he means that the greatest boon this country has ever received was your Majesty’s accession to the throne,” said Kat.

  “Mistress Ashley has explained my meaning, Madam,” said Robert.

  She looked from him to the lady who was sitting beside him—a dark, and sparkling-eyed beauty. The sight did not please the Queen.

  “I pray you, do not shout at me from such a distance, Master Dudley. Come here and sit beside me.”

  Willingly he came, his eyes adoring, pleading: Why cannot I see you alone? Why must there always be these people between us?

  She wanted to answer: Because I am the Queen and you were foolish enough to marry a country girl. If you had been a wiser man, who knows what I might not have done for you!

  Was he too familiar? Now he looked a little sullen. Was he a little too certain of her favor? She could not reprove him before her ladies and gentlemen. If she did, he might absent himself from her presence, and that would be as much punishment for her as for him.

  She fancied those about her were smiling slyly. Had they noticed her preference? Her reign was too young for her to make any false steps.

  Kat said to her later: “Your Majesty, they are beginning to notice. There are whispers.”

  “Of what do you speak, woman?”

  “Of our dark and handsome gentleman, Madam. It is noticed that your eyes are often upon him, and that you like not to see him laughing with other ladies.”

  “I’ll not endure such insolence. Who are these gossips?”

  “The whole Court, Your Majesty. And ’tis true, you know. You give away your feelings. You could not show them more plainly if you put your arms about his neck and kissed him before them all.”

  Elizabeth so far forgot her queenly dignity as to box Kat’s ears. But Kat knew that her warning had gone home.

  Elizabeth was perturbed.

  At the next assembly she said: “I wish for the advice of Dr. Dee on my Coronation. You will go to him, my Lord Dudley, and ascertain from him which day would be more suited to that event.”

  “When does Your Majesty expect me to leave?”

  “At once … at once.”

  He looked at her reproachfully. Even if it were only for a short time, he was being sent away from Court. He was hurt and angry. But so was she.

  She watched him leave, with such longing in her eyes that Kat felt she merely betrayed herself the more.

  When Robert left the Court for his visit to the Queen’s favorite astrologer, Dr. Dee, he was in an exalted frame of mind.

  Elizabeth had not hidden her feelings from him. He knew enough of his powers to recognize in her the same longings he had so often encountered in others. Very soon, he was sure, that longing would grow to such magnitude that not all her pride nor all her royalty would be allowed to stand in its way.

  He contemplated the future with complacence. No member of his family had risen as he would rise. But there was one obstacle—Amy.

  The very thought of her angered him. He compared her with Elizabeth. The Queen attracted him apart from her royalty. Had she not been the daughter of Henry the Eighth she would have been his mistress ere this, he was sure. But she was doubly desirable; not only could she give him erotic satisfaction but that crown which his father had intended for Guildford.

  He would be King of the realm, for no woman had yet refused him what he demanded; and Elizabeth had shown quite clearly that she was essentially a woman.

  He could not ignore Amy. She was becoming restive; she wanted to come to Court and share in her husband’s good fortune. She wrote asking if he were in love with some lady of the Court who was demanding all his attention. Amy had discovered the truth. Elizabeth certainly demanded constant thought, constant attention.

  Dr. Dee welcomed him warmly at his country residence and, on consulting his charts, decided that the 15th of January would be a very good day for the crowning of the Queen.

  When he left the astrologer, as he was not far from Siderstern, he felt that it would be a good opportunity of seeing Amy and making some attempt to stifle her desires to share his life at Court. He was afraid that if he did not visit her, she might decide to come to Court to see him. He did not think the Queen would be very pleased to see Amy at Court.

  When he reached the house it was early afternoon and all was quiet. He sent his servants to the stables with the horses and went into the house to find Amy.

  The hall was deserted; he went quickly up the staircase and along the gallery to the bedroom which he shared with Amy when he lived in the house.

  Someone was in the room, bending over a press. It was Pinto.

  “So … Pinto!” he said.

  She straightened and bobbed a curtsy. She was embarrassed, he saw. “Lord Robert! We were not expecting you.”

  “I know it. And your mistress?”

  “She is riding with her father, my lord.”

  “Is anything wrong, Pinto?” he asked.

  “Wrong, my lord! No … no. All will be well for my lady now that you are here.”

  Lightly he wondered why Pinto interested him; but he knew almost at once. She was not ill-favored; and she was deeply conscious of him. In her case it was not love but dislike which he engendered. What a strange woman Pinto must be!

  She was preparing to hurry from the room, but he felt in a mischievous mood.

  “Do not let me disturb you, Pinto. Do not hurry away.”

  “I was merely putting away my lady’s things.”

  “Then I pray you continue to do so.”

  “But I have finished, my lord.”

  He came toward her slowly, aware that her agitation was increasing. “What is it, Pinto?” He caught her chin in his hands and looked into her eyes. “I like it not that you should mistrust me. I like it not that you should run away when I appear, and cast those fearful glances at me when you think I do not see.”

  “But, my lord …”

  He bent his head swiftly and kissed her. He was almost as astonished as she was, and for a moment he sensed a deep pleasure.

  She twisted free and ran from the room. He was smiling as he watched her. How foolish he had been to think that she hated him. She was after all a woman.

  Poor Pinto! She covered her feelings for him under a veil of mistrust and suspicion. There was no need for her to fear. Her virtue was safe from him.

  When Amy came riding home and found him there she was almost hysterical with delight.

  “But Robert, why did you not send a message!” she cried, throwing herself at him. “I’ve missed hours of your company, and you will be running away ere long, I doubt not.”

  He was charming as he knew so well how to be. “It is wonderful to be home,” he said, “away from the garish Court.”

  “You speak as though you do not like it there.”

  “How can I when it keeps me from you … and home?”

  She could not keep her hands from caressing him. She pouted and said that she had heard rumors.

  “Rumors of what?”

  “It is said that the Queen greatly favors you.”

  “The Queen is just. She remembers those who were her friends in adversity.”

  “Yes. But they say you are a special favorite.”

  “It is just talk.”

  Later he rode with her through
the estates; he must see the new lambs and watch the sowing of the oats and beans; he feigned delight in these things and congratulated himself that he had escaped from them forever.

  He could not keep the knowledge from her that this was a flying visit.

  “No … no, no!” she protested.

  He thought her a pampered girl. It was due to her being her father’s heiress and living with grown-up half-brothers and half-sisters—the pet of them all. He must have been mad to marry her.

  “Alas, my love, I am on a mission for the Queen. I must go back and prepare myself for the ordeal of the Coronation.”

  “Why cannot I go, Robert?”

  “It is impossible.”

  “But other lords have their wives at Court.”

  “Only if they have posts in the Queen’s household.”

  “Could I not be a lady-in-waiting?”

  “That will come, Amy. But give me time. The Queen has scarce been on the throne a month, and even if she does favor me now as you have heard, I cannot ask too much of her.”

  “Would it be asking too much of her to give your wife a place at Court?”

  He could smile ironically at that. “I am sure it would, Amy.”

  “But, Robert, something will have to be done. I cannot stay here for months and months while you are away from me.”

  “I will come to see you, Amy, whenever it is possible. You may depend on that. My duties as Master of the Queen’s Horse keep me occupied. I think I may earn the Queen’s displeasure for absenting myself so long.”

  “I am afraid of the Queen, Robert.”

  “You are wise to be so. She would be angry if she knew you were detaining me here.”

  “And mayhap send you to the Tower! Oh, Robert, shall I ever be able to come to Court?”

  He soothed her with gentle words and caresses and plans for the future. Yet how glad he was when he could ride away from Norfolk to London and the Queen!

  The day before her Coronation Elizabeth rode through the City that she might receive the loving greetings of her people.

  She had gone by water from Westminster Palace to the Tower several days before that Saturday fixed for the ceremonial parade; and she left the Tower on the Saturday in her chariot—a beautiful and regal figure in her crimson velvet. She was not quite twenty-six years of age, yet she looked younger than she had when she had made the journey along the Thames for the Tower on that mournful Palm Sunday four years before.