by Sandra Byrd
THREE
Winter: Year of Our Lord 1566
The Palace of Whitehall
Bedford House, London
Spring: Year of Our Lord 1566
The Palace of Whitehall
Parr’s Estates, London
The Queen’s Majesty was keen to hunt all winter long. In preparation for my first hunting party with her, William invited me to his estate and the mews wherein he kept his hawks and falcons.
“I don’t sew their eyes shut,” he said as we strode down the center of the long building. I found it to be a mark of his gentleness. “I have hoods made for them instead, to quiet them until the hunt.” He showed me one of the tiny caps, fitted to his thumb, stitched delicately in red leather. He called twice, and a large brown hawk came and landed on his outstretched wrist. It nodded and bobbed its head before looking at me, unblinking.
Not to be outdone, I took a lure and boldly called, too. To William’s pleasure, a young red falcon swooped down and landed on my gloved wrist.
“I’ve never seen them come for anyone but me!” he exclaimed. I laughed lightly, delighted to have pleased him. I visited the mews with him several times after that before riding out with the queen and her party some weeks before Christmas.
“Are you certain I may take your leave?” I asked Princess Cecelia.
“Indeed,” she said. “The tailors and seamstresses are coming this afternoon to measure me for new gowns, and I have plenty of attentive ladies should I require assistance.” She waved me away without another word or look in my direction.
I pondered that for a moment. Was she irritated at not having been invited? I didn’t believe so, as she did not care to hunt.
We left from the Palace of Whitehall on the queen’s horses, of which Lord Robert was master; he rode at the head of the party with the queen. I had never ridden so magnificent an animal, and at first it sensed my hesitance and tried to get the better of me. Everyone was mounting their beasts, and I grew aware of the eyes upon me as I struggled to get my horse under control. A combination of sharp spur and soft word given at the same time made her understand that I was her mistress and she settled obediently. As I watched the queen interact with her courtiers, I saw that she employed the same method with them.
The queen, of course, had the finest hawks, and one flew from her wrist to take in a quarry nearly twice its size. It brought the bird down; afterward, the queen rewarded the hawk with a small bit of raw pigeon flesh. Others flew their hawks one by one, and William’s birds appeared to be the best trained. I knew he took great pride in that. Soon enough we approached the clearing where the queen’s men had set up a tent for our midday supper.
I sat near William, and then came a tall, boorish man with a loud voice. “Lady Elin, you’ve hawked before, I see.”
“Yes, Sir—”
“His Grace the Duke of Norfolk,” he corrected me.
“Yes, Your Grace. I have.”
He tried to cow me with his considerable bearing, but I held my back firm against his wind.
“Northampton is quite a master of falcons,” he said. “He’s told us that the best birds come from Norway.”
At that several men in the crowd guffawed, and the ladies politely looked down. I had no idea what the intent was, but clearly bird had more than one meaning to the English, and the one he intended was impolite. William opened his mouth to speak, perhaps in my defense, but the queen silenced him with a slight lift of her leather-gloved hand. I was not about to let this highborn but ill-mannered man best me.
“I’m uncertain of that, Your Grace, as I am from Sweden and not from Norway. However, my noble mother is descended from King Haakon of Norway, so perhaps I can write to her and ask if she knows.” I continued sweetly, “I could also inquire as to whether some Norwegian birds could be sent to England for your pleasure.”
At that the men who had laughed at me roared at Norfolk. I held my head and gaze steady, though I felt my neck tremble with tension and a bead of sweat slipped down it. The queen clapped her hands in pleasure and called to me, “Lady von Snakenborg, come and sit by us.”
She ate lightly and had finished her small portion; she pressed me to take some of the marchpane she was savoring off a small gold plate. I took one and thanked her profusely before eating of it. I couldn’t hide my astonishment and pleasure as it fairly melted on my tongue.
She laughed. “We trust you find our English confectionaries to your pleasure?”
“Indeed, Your Majesty, indeed I do!”
“We watched you handle Northampton’s falcons today. You have a fine hand for the birds. We enjoy birds, too, especially birdsong. We keep cages of them in each of our palaces to enjoy their sweet music throughout the day.”
“I am sure they are happy to sing for so fine a queen in so fine a place,” I said. “I know I would be!” After I said it, I wished it back, because it sounded so young and ill timed.
But the queen laughed. “We should be glad to have your song in our court, my lady,” she said. “And at Northampton’s estates, too.” Her eyes twinkled at me. She knew! But of course she knew.
When I returned to Bedford House that evening, there was a letter for me. “Geoffrey Preston brought this,” Bridget said.
“Did he have any mail for the princess?” I asked.
“He didn’t tell me,” she said. “But I did not see him stop to speak with her.”
My hand shook as I clumsily opened the letter. It was not from my mother but from my sister Gertrude instead. After sharing some tales of her family and news of the court, she drew her letter to a point. I read it aloud to Bridget.
“ ‘And now, dear sister, I must share ill tidings. Our sister Karin has somehow grown close to Philip Bonde in your absence.’ ” I took a deep breath before forcing myself to continue. “ ‘They are scarce apart from one another when at court . . . or away. Karin denies it, but I have heard of Philip’s request that his father transfer the dowry portion already paid to marry Karin in your stead. Our lady mother believes none of it, of course, ready to defend your honor and arrangement. You must hurry home.’ ”
I folded the letter and smoothed it over and over again with my hand until Bridget put her hand upon mine to stop it. “What shall you do?” she asked.
“I know not,” I said. As I lay there quietly, a passage of Holy Writ returned to my mind.
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you.
Hearken unto me, Lord, thought Elin. Please hearken unto me.
I lay awake that night, praying and thinking, and I confess, it pained me some that I was not worth three-quarters of a dowry, but Karin was, if indeed my father had lost the dowry portion at all. But did I want to marry a man who was in love with another? And with my sister at that?
Then the answer came to me: I was worth marrying to a gentle, highborn man who, unbelievably, was demanding no dowry at all. Instead, he promised a house full of servants, a comfortable, honest life. He was an honorable man who treasured me. And here in England was a queen, I could admit in my heart if not aloud, worthy of devoted service. In the morning, I wrote to William and told him that I would be delighted and honored to marry him if my princess would give her permission in my mother’s stead. I sent the note with a messenger and awaited his reply.
Within hours, I could hear someone arrive at Bedford House. “Look and see who it is!” I told Bridget.
She peered out of our courtyard-facing window and nodded. “Yes! It’s Lord Northampton!”
Fifteen minutes later, Christina Abrahamsdotter knocked on our chamber door. We opened it and quickly let her in. “He’s speaking to the princess about you,” she whispered.
“And?” I asked, clasping my hands in anticipation.
“At first the princess refused to give permission for your hand. She said she was commission
ed to act as your mother, but she did not know if she could do without your service on the journey back to Sweden.”
“And his response?”
“He offered to pay fifteen hundred pounds of her debts. And she agreed!”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I was to be married!
Bridget held herself steady, however. “The princess has that many debts?” she asked.
“And more,” Christina said. “I’ve heard her speaking with the margrave. He’s to slip out of England soon, to Germany, escaping his English debtors and finding a way for us to return home.”
Both Bridget and I were shocked at that. Fifteen hundred pounds was an unimaginable amount of money, and I did not want the payment of the princess’s debts to be the manner in which I started married life. William would have to pay a dowry, of sorts, rather than receive one. But I quickly moved to thinking of my wedding, and what I should tell my mother, and if she would receive a letter if it were quickly sent.
I sent that letter off to Sweden, telling my mother that I would be married here, begging for her approval, and steeling myself to tell her that I was giving my blessing to Philip and Karin should they choose to marry. I was to remain in England! I would become an Englishwoman. The thought terrified me, and thrilled me, and I tried not to think upon the fact that I may never see my mother or sisters again but rather that I would be the beloved wife of a marquess and would make my way, somehow, at the Queen of England’s court. William could not have been more kind. He was attentive and presented an expensive necklace and a new gown to me as New Year’s gifts. I made a fine ruff for him and did the lacework on a delicate pair of gloves for the queen.
One of the queen’s men arrived at Bedford House with a New Year’s gift for me from Her Majesty.
“For me?” I said. “Are you certain?” I hadn’t attended the New Year’s ceremonies, as the princess had pled illness.
“Yes, my lady,” he said. “I’m certain.” He unloaded the gift from the cart and brought it into the great hall, where he took the satin sheet off it with a flourish. It was a gilded cage with a pair of lovely songbirds.
The other Swedish girls tittered politely behind their hands while I stuttered out my thanks. After the queen’s man left, we all let free our laughter. They knew, though the English didn’t, that I cared not at all for songbirds. I hadn’t, of course, informed the queen, who’d assumed I shared her love of them.
“These you must care for, no matter what,” Bridget said.
“Indeed, I understand that,” I said. “I shall write to Her Majesty immediately, offering profuse thanks.” I took the cage to our room, held at arm’s length. Songbirds. Milde makter.
To my utter dismay, Princess Cecelia had rather another kind of gift in mind for me, and it was an unwelcome surprise of a much stronger sort. She called me to her chamber one morning in March after the margrave had fled for the Continent.
“I have changed my mind,” she said.
“About what, my lady?” I asked.
“About your marrying Northampton. I’m revoking my permission. You will return home to Sweden with us.”
• • •
I hid my anger and feigned willing obedience as I sank to my knees on a cushion before her. “Madam? Surely you cannot mean that. I have already written of this to my mother and given my blessing for my sister Karin to marry my, er, former fiancé, Philip Bonde. I have given Lord Northampton my answer, my word. As have you,” I dared to point out. Of course, I said nothing about the £1500 debt as I did not desire to be slapped.
“The Lord Northampton may be a marquess, but I am a princess, and I shall write to the queen. Shall you act as my secretary, as I have been deprived of my own?”
“Indeed, I shall, if you wish it,” I said, though I could scarce keep my wits about me with this news. With one half of my mind I was thinking how to untangle the knot in this delicate thread and with the other I was putting to paper the words she spoke.
We do not doubt, most gracious and powerful Queen, that you remember how we once complained to your Majesty of wrongs done to us by certain of your subjects, who until now have gone unpunished, which fact has caused us great grief of mind. This grief has been further increased today by a great wrong done to us by Ephippiarus, who, not satisfied with any of the reasonable terms which the other creditors have accepted, has arrested and detained our Secretary, and has spread a false report about us through the whole city, that we are planning a secret departure from here. . . .
May it please your Majesty graciously to call to mind our love toward you, and that we came into this kingdom for no other reason than to declare the same. Therefore we do not doubt that your Majesty will equally reciprocate our love and ward off from us every harm, and kindly restore to us our Secretary out of arrest; and this kindness we will labor to deserve by our love toward you, whatever injuries we may receive.
“There now, quickly seal it and hand it to a court messenger,” the princess said. I did as I was bade, but I knew there were mistruths therein and it disgusted me. It was indeed true that the princess was planning a quiet escape; the margrave had cut his beard and disguised himself to reenter the city with plans for the Swedish party to meet him at Dover, where he would have a ship from the Continent waiting. Christina Abrahamsdotter had told us that not only the jewelers and the tailor but the butcher, the poulterer, the grocer, the baker, the butter man, the fishmonger, the brewer, and the grocer had all petitioned the Queen’s Privy Counsel for overdue payments. The margrave had also fallen in with some unsavory persons to whom he owed great gambling debts.
That night William came to call for me and conveyed Bridget and myself to his manor to dine. One of his friends took Bridget from hall to hall to show her some of the statuary while William spoke with me privately. “You do know that Princess Cecelia would like to revoke her permission for our marriage.”
I nodded. “I do. I’m distraught about it. I wish to remain here, and to become your wife.”
“Must you do as she insists?” he asked.
“I have had no word from my mother. I shall write her again tonight and tell her of my affection for you and my desire to remain. But the princess is likely to sail before I hear back.”
“I shall write to your mother, too, to reassure her of my protection and care, and enclose my letter with yours,” he said. “In the meantime, perhaps you could speak with the queen?”
“She would be interested in so mean a matter?” Hope rose within me. I had already begun to imagine a sweet and meaningful life with William.
“ ’Tis not a mean matter to me,” he said with deep emotion, taking my hands in his own. “And therefore it is not to her, friend that she is.”
• • •
A messenger came from court the very next day. Princess Cecelia was vexed when it was not the expected letter returning her secretary and promising to pay all her debts, but rather a summons for me to appear before the queen. “Go, then,” she barked at me.
I did not take her bitterness to heart. I knew she was greatly disappointed that the queen she had nearly worshipped for many years would not come to her royal defense. As for me, I sided with the queen. Silently.
When I arrived at Whitehall, the queen was in her receiving chamber with a few of her women. I clamped my jaw to stop my teeth chattering and willed my knees firm under my rich, gold-stamped gown, thanking my mother, in my heart, for the gift of it before I’d left Sweden, and asking the Lord Jesus to help me be strong and courageous.
“Lady Knollys, please inquire after the mending of the blue gown we wish to wear this evening,” she said to a woman who smiled back at her intimately and warmly. Lady Knollys was a softer, gentler version of her daughter Lettice, whom I’d seen in the hallway with Lord Robert. When Lady Knollys departed, the queen and I were left alone, with the exception of a page or two on the fringes of the room and a maid of honor silently sewing.
“We understand that your princess is shortly to return to S
weden,” she began after she bade me rise from kneeling.
“Yes, Majesty.” I neither confirmed nor denied, simply acknowledged the queen.
“She has extended her permission for you to marry Northampton?”
I nodded, then apologetically explained, “She extended permission, then withdrew it, Your Grace.”
“And what is your mind upon this matter?”
“I wish to stay and marry Lord Northampton,” I said, fervently hoping she could assist us. “And I believe that my mother would wish it so as well, as she desires happiness and contentment for all of her children.” Even Karin, I supposed.
The queen nodded and thought for a moment. “We like you well, Lady von Snakenborg. You have a quick wit and will be a charming ornament to our court. You may stay at our leave, if you wish, and serve as one of my maids of honor until such time as Northampton takes you as his wife.”
I crumpled to my knees again. “Oh, thank you, Majesty, thank you. You shall never find a more dedicated lady. I should forgo eat and drink if that was your wish!”
She laughed at that. “We have been accused of eating lightly, but we do not starve our ladies,” she said. “We heard that, while at Dover, you suffered an injury while protecting your princess. From that, we know you understand what it means to wait upon a royal mistress.”
“I should not only clasp a bee for you, Majesty, but would walk into the very den of lions ahead of you and shut their mouths on your behalf should no angel appear to do so!”
She laughed again and waved her hand. “I doubt you not, mistress. But remember that promise, for someday that very well might be required of you.”
I deeply curtseyed again and backed from the room, then ran into William’s arms. He’d been waiting nearby. “I stay!”
He reached his arm around me and kissed me, lightly, which was welcome and lovely and I kissed him back of my own accord for the first time.
