by Laura Dowers
But she liked him. Typically French, dark, all of him dark, lips that were too plump, too red to be attractive on a man, but his intelligence showed in his face. Elizabeth liked clever men. She enjoyed the conversations she could have with them, especially when they were peppered with phrases of love.
And God’s Death, but Simier knew how to make love with words!
They were alone, taking supper in her private apartments.
‘The Earl of Leicester -’ he began.
She didn’t want to ruin the evening with thoughts of Robert. ‘What of him?’ she answered shortly.
‘He has a reputation.’
‘For what?’
Simier waggled his head. ‘For his admiration of Your Majesty.’
‘Admiration?’ she snorted. ‘Is that what it is called now?’
He pouted. ‘Perhaps admiration is not quite the word I meant. Forgive me. English does not come easily to me.’
She patted his hand. ‘You speak it very well. But I know what you have heard and I can tell you it is not true.’
‘Then there is no love between you. I see it is just duty that binds the earl to you, and nothing more.’
Elizabeth bit her lip. ‘It is I who have misunderstood you, Simier. I thought you meant malicious gossip about our relationship.’
‘My master will be greatly relieved. He was not looking forward to the prospect of sharing you with another.’
‘My Monkey,’ she said, addressing him with the nickname she had bestowed upon him, ‘your master will have to share me with my entire kingdom.’
‘Subjects he will love, as you do yourself, but rivals….’ He laughed and shook his head.
‘But Robin…’ Elizabeth said hastily. ‘The Earl of Leicester is no rival, no danger to your master. Tell him that. The earl cannot have me.’
Simier nodded understandingly. ‘I understand. And that being so, I trust you will not allow the earl to influence you against my master, who is a goodly prince and one who loves you dear.’
‘I am not so easily swayed. You have reason to believe the earl will speak against your master?’
‘Your Majesty, I confess to no great talent with your language, though you flatter me I speak well. But I do know people.’
‘And you always suspect the worse of them?’
‘I fear it is in my nature to do so,’ he grimaced playfully. ‘But I feel it to be no bad thing. That way I am never disappointed.’
Elizabeth threw back her head and laughed, then remembered that he might see the gaps between her teeth and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. ‘The earl will be back at court within a few days,’ she said sourly. ‘But I tell you, I know my own mind, Simier.’
‘I am glad to hear it, Your Majesty. It would grieve me to have to comfort a disappointed master. He is hard to bear when he is melancholy.’
‘Is it a humour he is prone to?’
‘No, Your Majesty, no. Do not mistake me. He is of a most pleasant turn, amiable. But he has thought of nothing but you these many months, and it would take much to remove you from his mind. Ah, such beautiful hands,’ he said, taking her long fingers and pressing her knuckles to his womanly lips. It was an impertinent gesture for a servant to make and he knew it. He saw her eyes narrow, and knew she was wondering whether to rebuke him or not. ‘Such hands should not belong to a mortal.’
‘They do not, sir. I am God’s deputy on this earth. I am above you.’
‘But madam, we all have feet of clay. And I am thankful for it. If you were not mortal, a woman not of flesh and bone, we poor fools would be blinded by your divine magnificence. As it is, we can look upon your beauty and wish ourselves princes.’
4
Greenwich Palace, London, April 1578
Leicester,’ Hatton waved. ‘How was Buxton?’
Robert hesitated. ‘Oh, pleasant enough. The queen told you …?’
‘She said you had gone there for your health. I trust the waters helped?’
There was no hint of duplicity in his question. Robert’s greatest fear, that the queen had forsook him and would waste no time in informing everyone, had not come true. She had told no one.
‘A little. But I fear this pain in my stomach will be with me for the rest of my days, Hatton.’
‘No remedy, then,’ Hatton said sympathetically. ‘Will you dine?’
Robert nodded and gestured for Hatton to lead the way. As they walked through the corridors of the palace, courtiers pressed their backs to the wall to clear the way for the great Earl of Leicester, and a look of relief passed over Robert’s face. Nothing had changed.
‘Have you met him yet?’ Hatton asked, as they entered his small chamber, where food was already laid out on a table.
‘Who?’
‘Have you not been listening to me? Simier, the Duke’s envoy.’
‘Oh, no, not yet, I’ve only just arrived,’ Robert said, sitting and wrenching the leg off a chicken. ‘Walsingham wrote to me of him, but didn’t commit too much to paper. Tell me, what is he like?’
Hatton made a face. ‘Exactly like I thought he would be. But the queen, God’s Wounds, Leicester, the queen thinks the world of him. She pets him, gives him presents. She’s even given him a nickname. Her Monkey, she calls him.’
‘Monkey?’
‘Simier, simian,’ Hatton explained. ‘She has him to dine almost every night in her private chamber. I wish you had been here to distract her.’
‘I don’t think my presence would have done so.’
‘Why? Has something happened between you and the queen?’
‘Why do you ask that?’
‘Well, you left hurriedly, without a word, and the queen has hardly mentioned you.’
‘I am returned!’
‘Ah, yes, but you have not seen the queen yet, and here you are, dining with me. Usually the queen is the first person you see, and you would dine with her. This doesn’t speak of high favour to me, Leicester. You will forgive me if I am prying?’
‘You’re right, Hatton,’ Robert admitted. ‘I’m not in favour at the moment, though I trust I will not remain so.’
‘That is a thousand pities. May I know why?’
‘You may, if I can trust you to keep it to yourself.’
‘You can trust me.’
‘Well, you know I’ve married. The queen now knows it too.’
Hatton whistled. ‘And I thought you would end up in the Tower when she found out.’
‘I thought it possible myself.’
‘What made you confess it?’
‘She would have found out sometime. Better it came from me.’
‘And so you’re in disgrace. What did she do when you told her?’
‘Suffice to say she wasn’t pleased,’ Robert said dismissively. ‘Now, I have told you enough, Hatton, and you will repeat it to no one.’
‘None shall hear it from me,’ Hatton promised solemnly. ‘Has your wife returned with you? When do I get to meet the new Countess of Leicester?’
‘You don’t. At least, not at Court. Walsingham sent word that my presence was required, but that I was to come alone. Decoded that means Lettice is forbidden to ever join me.’
‘That will be hard for her to bear, I should think.’
‘Extremely. Lettice is not used to being forbidden anything.’
‘But perhaps it will make these marriage negotiations easier,’ Hatton mused. ‘If personal feelings between yourself and the queen are at an end -’
‘We still care for one another, Hatton,’ Robert said sternly. ‘Don’t think otherwise.’
‘I stand corrected, Leicester. I merely meant you cannot be accused of selfishness in regard to this marriage.’
‘No, my reasons against this marriage will be purely political.’
‘On the other hand,’ Hatton said, ‘it could make things difficult for us.’
‘How so?’
‘Well, it might make the queen … eager.’
‘I don’t u
nderstand you, Hatton.’
‘You haven’t seen how she is with this Simier. I truly think he is capable of making her forget herself.’
‘With him? A mere servant?’
‘He is greatly in her favour. He has fair put me in the shade.’
‘No, I can’t believe it, Hatton,’ Robert said. ‘You’re wrong.’
‘I hope I am, Leicester. But if she feels she has lost you, one whom she considered as her very own, well, I fear you may have made her desperate.’
‘Desperate enough to make a bad marriage?’
Hatton shrugged. ‘See for yourself. The queen is probably with him now.’
‘I think I will. Excuse me, Hatton.’
5
Greenwich Palace, London, The same day
Elizabeth’s laugh cut off abruptly as Robert entered. He studied her face, looking for a clue of how he should be with her, but she merely stared back at him.
He bowed. ‘Your Majesty.’
‘You’re returned, Robin,’ she said coldly.
‘As you instructed, madam.’ Robert glanced at her companion. ‘Good evening, sir.’
Jean de Simier half-rose and made a slight bow. Impertinent fellow, Robert thought, am I not due more respect than that? He looked at Elizabeth, but she had a sly smile upon her face. I see, Robert thought, that’s how she’s playing it.
‘I merely came to make the acquaintance of the duke’s envoy and to let you know I had returned, madam. But as you have no obvious need of my company, I shall leave you to –’
‘You will stay,’ Elizabeth said sharply. ‘I will decide if I have need of you or not, Robin.’
Robert smiled, wallowing in the dismay exhibited on Simier’s face. ‘Of course, madam. Whatever you wish.’
Elizabeth kept him for an hour, but then he said he should really check on his horses and he left for the stables. Robert tickled the nose of his favourite mare and she nuzzled his hand affectionately. He had missed the stables, missed the smell of them, of straw, horse sweat and warm manure. He talked and joked with the stable hands, gave medical instructions when he noticed sores on Arundel’s bay, and watched the progress of the newest addition.
‘So, what do you think?’
Robert jumped. ‘Damn it, Hatton. How long have you been there?’
Hatton leaned against the stable door. ‘Just got here,’ he said, turning his foot to look at the sole. He muttered something and scraped his boot against the ground.
‘What do I think of what?’ Robert asked.
‘The Monkey.’
‘Oh, him. I think,’ Robert paused, searching for the correct demeaning word, ‘he’s a typical Frenchman.’
‘Ah, judgement enough.’
‘He’s dining with me tomorrow.’
‘And are you going to warn him off or welcome him in?’
‘Neither. I want to see what he’s all about, that’s all.’
‘Huh, I could tell you that,’ Hatton said sourly. ‘He’s the perfect courtier. Says all the right things, makes all the right gestures, never puts a foot wrong.’
‘We’ll see.’
‘Shall I dine with you too?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I may get him to talk more if we’re alone.’
‘I would not place a wager on that. Anyway, I can see you want to be alone. I shall leave you to your horses.’
6
Greenwich Palace, London, April 1578
‘That was a fine dinner, my lord,’ Simier said, dabbing a napkin against his mouth. ‘You dine as well as the queen.’
‘Better,’ Robert said, signalling to a servant to refill the wine cups. ‘The queen never has much of an appetite, and we have to finish when she does, so often we at Court go hungry.’
‘Well then, moderation does indeed have some virtue. The queen is most slender.’
‘She is virtuous in many ways.’
‘Really?’ Simier smirked.
‘What do you mean by that, sir?’ Robert asked, his face darkening.
‘I have known virtuous women, my lord, and I have known whores. The queen falls somewhere in between.’
‘How dare you!’ Robert was astonished at Simier’s language. ‘I shall tell the queen of how you abuse her.’
‘And I will tell her you lie, my lord. I am not one for pretences,’ Simier said, picking through the debris on his plate. ‘I know it is you who is most vocal against my master marrying the queen. It is you who persuade your members in Parliament to protest against a French Catholic marrying the queen. Why should I pretend with you?’
‘I won’t deny that I don’t want this marriage and I have done all I can to prevent it and will continue to do so, Simier.’
‘I expect nothing less from the Earl of Leicester.’
‘As I am Earl of Leicester, how is it you dare to speak so of the queen, to speak so disrespectfully of her?’
‘I speak in the knowledge that you are not what you once were,’ he shrugged. ‘In truth, I so wanted to meet with the great Earl of Leicester, the queen’s notorious bedfellow. And what do I find? That you no more have access to the queen’s bed than I do. Perhaps even less.’
Robert was bursting with rage, but he was determined not to let Simier see.
‘There is something I would like from you,’ Simier continued. ‘Your support for this marriage.’
Robert barked an incredulous laugh. ‘After all you’ve said? You believe I have no influence with the queen.’
‘Ah, but you still have influence in the country. And I admit, there may be some remnant of affection for you in the queen’s heart.’
‘Why should I change my policy for you? What do I get?’
‘The queen does not find out about your marriage with Lettice Devereux.’
Robert drew his napkin to his face, hiding a smile behind the cloth. So that was why the Monkey was being so indiscreet with his words. He thought he had the upper hand.
‘I see,’ he said, pretending to consider. ‘You must let me think on it, Simier.’
‘Of course, my lord,’ Simier said, popping a grape into his mouth. ‘Now, I thank you for my dinner, but I promised the queen I would attend her this evening. Bon nuit.’
7
Greenwich Palace, London, May 1578
‘Leicester, if this is your doing.’ A purple-faced Sussex thrust himself at Robert as he entered the council chamber, his spittle spraying Robert’s doublet.
‘Is what my doing?’
‘Simier was shot at on the queen’s barge.’
‘My lord Sussex,’ Hatton interposed, ‘there is no proof that Simier was a target.’
Sussex ignored him. ‘The man responsible is one of your people, Leicester.’
‘And you think I had something to do with it? Oh, this cannot be believed, Cecil,’ Robert appealed, shoving Sussex out of his way. ‘I know nothing of this.’
‘Simier has himself accused you,’ Cecil said gravely.
‘And the queen?’
‘The queen does not seem overly concerned about the Monkey, Leicester,’ Hatton said. ‘Here, sit down.’
‘No, I must speak with her.’
‘She is with Simier as we speak, Leicester. I advise you to wait,’ Cecil said. ‘My lord Sussex, will you not take a seat?’
‘Was anyone hurt?’ Robert asked Hatton.
‘A boatman was shot through the arm. The queen behaved magnificently, Leicester. She tied a bandage for the man herself.’
‘She is most brave,’ Robert said, running his fingers through his hair distractedly. ‘But why accuse me?’
‘The man was wearing your livery,’ Sussex spat.
‘I’m not responsible for the actions of everyone in my service, Sussex.’
‘Simier is no fool. He knows it is you who most often speak against him. It would please you greatly to have him out of the way.’
‘Yes, and I know I can rely on you to think the worst of me, Sussex. You are ready to believe I am the devil himself.’
>
‘I know a rogue when I see one, Leicester.’
‘And I a coward when I see one, Sussex. Meet me in the gardens and we shall settle this like men.’
They put their hands on their swords. Hatton and Walsingham stepped between them.
‘What is all this?’ Elizabeth stood in the open doorway, her hands on her hips, her face red with rage. ‘Fighting in my Privy Council? Did I hear you challenge the Earl of Sussex to a duel, my lord Leicester? You know I have forbidden duelling, and do not think you will not be punished for attempting one. Sussex, sit down before you hurt yourself, and you, sir,’ she turned back to Robert, ‘you explain yourself.’
‘Your Majesty,’ he began, ‘I had nothing to with this attempt on the Duke’s envoy, if indeed one has been made.’
‘What reason had you to draw your sword on Sussex here?’
‘He accused me.’
Elizabeth glared at Sussex. ‘Is this true, my lord?’
‘The man was wearing Leicester’s livery,’ he exclaimed.
‘An accident, Sussex,’ Elizabeth said coldly, ‘as I have told Monsieur Simier, who accepts the explanation. If he can, then so can you.’
‘But what of the man, madam?’ Sussex blustered. ‘What was he doing on the river with a loaded weapon near you? Can the earl answer that?’
‘Can you, Robin?’
‘Of course I can’t,’ Robert replied angrily. ‘I can’t know the whereabouts of every man who wears my colours.’
‘Sounds like a reasonable explanation to me, Sussex,’ Elizabeth said.
‘Madam, I cannot believe the French will let this lie,’ he persisted. ‘The man must be punished.’
‘If I punish a man, who may very well be guiltless, how would my people react? They would be outraged, Sussex.’
‘I understand your reluctance, madam. But what do you think the Duke of Alencon will think of such mercy?’
‘Oh, let the Duke thinks what he likes,’ Robert said. ‘Who in God’s name cares what a Frenchman thinks?’
‘I care, Robin,’ Elizabeth turned on him furiously. ‘And keep a civil tongue in your head about the Duke. I have invited him here, and I command you to be respectful.’
