Elizabeth

by Kathryn Lasky

  Later

  The Chapel was lit with one thousand tapers, and the gold stars in the blue ceiling glittered in their reflected light. I think Master Grindal was actually most pleased that he had been invited. Princess Mary weeps excessively at these services, and I caught Master Grindal looking at her oddly. I gave him a quick little smile and a wink. I wanted to reassure him that I feel such displays are worse than twaddle.

  26 December, 1545

  It is late and I am exhausted from the Saint Stephen’s Day feast, but we had a most surprising visitor: the Earl of Arran! And he was seated next to Princess Mary!

  Still later

  I had to crawl back under my bed and get you, dear Diary, from your hiding place beneath the loose floor stone. An amazing revelation tonight. Mary Ward came in to bank my fire. We have not spoken familiarly for almost a year now, but I could not help but notice a curious little smile on her face. So I had to ask her what was so funny. It took a little coaxing, but she finally told me. It seems she accidentally interrupted a romantic tryst! She happened upon the Duchess of Lexford and Lord Arran in a passionate embrace in a small alcove near the Chapel!

  27 December, 1545

  Although there are many fewer people here at Greenwich than at Hampton Court, as it is smaller, the merrymaking is just as vigorous and seems to mount each day. My best memory of the Christmas will be the musicians. I joined one group with my fiddle, and William Allen plays, too. We wander all the halls and corridors. I do notice how in the daylight Lord Arran stays as far away from the Duchess of Lexford as possible, and I might add is quite attentive to Princess Mary.

  6 January, 1546

  The Duchess of Lexford is dead. She has been poisoned! I shall write more later.

  They found her in the Chapel the morning after the Twelfth Night banquet.

  7 January, 1546

  Kat has collapsed in a state of apoplexy. She screams that when I was sick she is sure it was poison. But I am alive. She gets so hysterical that John Ashley has called the apothecary to dose her with tincture of poppies.

  9 January, 1546

  All is in disarray since the poisoning. Father is sending me to Hatfield, Edward to Hertford with a detachment from his own guard, and Princess Mary to Beaulieu. With all the panic and confusion I forgot to mention our New Year’s Day presents. I received a minstrel! An Italian quite gifted on the lute. And Edward got yet another jewelled sword and a crossbow. He can barely lift the crossbow. But Father dreams of Edward as a skilled huntsman. Alas, it is not to be. Edward is all brains and very slow with anything in the nature of sporting.

  18 January, 1546

  Hatfield

  We are settled in at Hatfield. One cannot imagine the contortions that we were all put through by Kat checking for poison. This has turned her entire world upside down and inside out. I can tell that dear John Ashley is quite concerned about her. Kat says she shall never eat a Twelfth Night cake again, which is about the stupidest thing I ever heard. How is one to know that a Twelfth Night cake was what caused the Duchess of Lexford’s death?

  19 January, 1546

  I have thought deeply about the Duchess’s murder. Robin was whisked away by his father the morning after the Duchess was discovered in the Chapel. So I never got a chance to talk with him about it. But I certainly have my theories of which I write for the first time. I did not even want to write at Greenwich. Who knows what spies might be about? I am more secure here at Hatfield. Rumour says that what ever it was that the Duchess ate or drank was laced with venin de crapaud. This is a poison made from the distilled liquids of toads that have been first killed with arsenic. It brings death within hours. I think I do remember the Duchess dancing after the banquet. So she was there for a while. My question is, why did she go to the Chapel? Was it for a meeting with Lord Arran? Mary Ward had seen them embracing in a small chamber off the Chapel that one time. But certainly they would not kiss passionately in a Chapel! This goes beyond being a reformer! And then there is a question of who did it? I, at first, thought the obvious: the Lizard. But is that too obvious?

  23 January, 1546

  Thank goodness I have my minstrel and William Allen in addition to Master Grindal, or my life would be exceedingly boring with no children here. Kat is still not faring well. So John Ashley, William Allen, and the minstrel Luciano and I play Gleek. But I miss Kat at the card table, she is a shrewd player.

  26 January, 1546

  A letter from the Queen inquiring about my studies. Do I detect something unsettled in her tone? I think perhaps the poisoning still disturbs us all in a deeper way than we might imagine. I shall be glad when this month is through. I always think that we turn the corner of the season when Candlemas Day comes on 2 February.

  1 February, 1546

  It is one of those teasing winter days that masquerades as spring. The Sun comes out full bright. The clouds scuttle off, leaving a glorious blue bowl. But of course there is mud everywhere. However, John Ashley just came and bid me to dress for hawking. He brought his hawks with him. What a treat! Master Grindal releases me from Cicero! But here is the joke. One of John Ashley’s hawks is named Cicero.

  Later

  There is nothing as exhilarating as seeing a superb, long-winged hawk carve great arcs in a flawless sky. The bird seems to draw your spirit with him. I told John that we should have brought Kat out. It would do her so much better than that tincture of poppy she is always dabbing on her tongue when she becomes agitated. He agrees.

  10 February, 1546

  I received this day a letter from Prince Edward. He, too, laments his lack of the company of other children.

  14 February, 1545

  What a lovely surprise on this greyest of Valentine’s Days. A messenger arrived late this afternoon with a pouch. And in the pouch was a Valentine for me from Robin! He, too, hates the fact that all of us children are apart. I think of us all so distant and lonely in our separate palaces. It is as if we are far-flung stars in the darkness of the night sky, when together we form such a lovely constellation. I look out the window tonight and see my old friend Orion rising now in the heavens.

  18 February, 1546

  I still think often of the poisoning of the Duchess of Lexford. I think it is a mystery that shall never be solved. This thought, however, just came to me. The Duchess of Lexford was closely related to the Seymours, and remember, dear Diary, how I said that the Seymours were the Lizard’s chief rivals. Robin said we must watch out and be protective of the Seymours. But nobody thought of watching out for the Duchess of Lexford. Is it possible that because Lord Arran was attracted to the Duchess that Princess Mary and the Lizard thought he might not marry Mary? And therefore if they poisoned the Duchess, she would not be in the way of Mary’s marriage plans? Yes, I am beginning to see a picture here. I do think it was the Lizard who committed murder. I still, however, do not believe he tried to poison me. This was just hysterics on Kat’s part. Kat, by the way, seems better these last few days.

  4 March, 1546

  Sun shines today. We go hawking. And Kat comes with us. I make ready to go now. Must wear my high, oiled-skin boots, as the world is thick with mud.

  Later

  I am breathless, joyous. We were out on a high sere meadow with the hawks when suddenly in the distance we saw a speck on the horizon. As the speck grew closer we realized there were in fact two specks – two men riding hard and yelling and whooping. As they drew nearer, I heard John Ashley say, “Why, it’s Sir Ronald and…” Robin! Of course, for Sir Ronald is Robin’s father’s chief secretary and boon companion as well, and often accompanies Robin. I squealed with delight. But to tell the truth, I would never have recognized Robin. He is at least a half foot taller. And he begins to grow a beard! He leaped from his pony and lifted me high off the ground yelling “Elizabeth! Elizabeth!” Underneath the stubble
of a beard he was the same old Robin – still a boy. I think Robin shall be a boy forever, even when he grows grey and old and bent. Oh, I am so happy. I think now things begin to change for the better. The year turns as we approach the longer days. The Sun grows stronger. Kat grows stronger, Robin taller, and my heart lightens.

  12 March, 1546

  We hawk. We hunt. We ride ponies. We do some lessons. These are glorious days. Even when it rains, I care not. Not when Robin is here. It is absolutely impossible for me ever to feel lonely when I am in Robin’s presence. He is a true friend, next to whom all others pale by comparison. I am never invisible when I am in the company of Robin.

  15 March, 1546

  The servitors got out the archery frames today, and Robin and I practised. Each day is so filled now I am too busy to write.

  19 March, 1546

  A spot of Cicero. A lot of archery. I am getting better with the crossbow.

  21 March, 1546

  Master Grindal called me in and spoke to me severely about neglecting my studies. He does not want to send a poor report to the Queen. I am mortified. I have been such a fool since Robin has arrived. I know it. Master Grindal said, “Others, Elizabeth, may squander their minds, but yours is too fine to abuse through neglect.” I vow to try harder. When Lady Jane Grey and Prince Edward are here I work harder for they are so diligent. I not only want to keep up with them but surpass them.

  22 March, 1546

  The other day Robin and I spoke for the first time of the poisoning of the Duchess of Lexford. He agrees with me about the Lizard. He said he has heard his father grumbling privately about the Lizard, too. We must watch him when we go to Windsor for Easter.

  27 March, 1546

  Robin is quite irritated with me. He says I have done nothing but study, which is the truth for the last two weeks. But I must explain, I do so not only for myself but also for the Queen who supports and encourages me so. Robin said something that rather unnerved me. He said the Queen should mind less her own studies. As the words slipped out of Robin’s mouth, he turned an icy grey as if he had misspoken. I wanted to ask what he meant, but I did not press him. I think delay and not acting impulsively is often the best strategy. But I shall find out. I like it not when others criticize Catherine Parr.

  5 April, 1546

  Windsor Castle

  The day after Palm Sunday. Robin and I have both noted that a definite coolness has sprung up between Princess Mary and the Lizard.

  8 April, 1546

  Today was, of course, Maundy Thursday, and this year Father must wash fifty-four pairs of feet. He is fatter than ever. I was shocked not only by his bulk, but what little hair he has left has not a tinge of red in it anymore. It is completely white. And this year I notice something different. My father looks each beggar in the eye steadily, as if he is seeing a reflection of himself. Perhaps he does, but I notice that a soft, misty look stirs in his eye by the time he has reached the thirteenth beggar, and by the end, tears streak down his cheek. It is both water and tears that wash these beggars’ feet.

  15 April, 1546

  We linger here at Windsor. I was hoping that perhaps we might go once more to Woodstock. We had such a fine time there last autumn with Father and the Queen, but I notice a new formality between them. It worries me. I remember that in the letter I received from Queen Catherine, I had detected something unsettling in her tone. I attributed it to the poisoning of the Duchess then. But that is not it. Oh, I do fear for Catherine. Queens have not fared well in my father’s court.

  20 April, 1546

  I suppose that worry about the Queen has made me somewhat distracted and subdued. I had not realized it until Robin finally spoke to me. His eyes nearly brimming with tears. “You never speak to me or play with me, Elizabeth, and it is not your studies. What is it?” I suddenly remember what he had said about the Queen: that she should mind less her studies. I had decided not to ask him then, but I knew now was the moment. Robin would do anything for me. So I asked. A shadow crossed his eyes. I reached for his hand. “Dear friend, what is it about the Queen? We have always been honest with each other. You are my dearest friend, perhaps my only true friend.”

  “Elizabeth, it is said that the King is attracted to another.” Something went cold inside me. It felt as if a stone sat in my chest.

  “Who?”

  “Catherine Brandon, the widow of Charles Brandon.”

  “I see.” I spoke barely conscious of the words. I was thinking yes, she was young and pretty. She had borne Brandon two sons. No Queen had ever borne my father sons that had lived more than a few days, except for Edward’s mother, and she had died twelve days later. It all made sense now. Would he divorce the Queen? We stood in the room where I took my lessons and suddenly it began to spin. When I opened my eyes again, I was on the rushes of the floor. Robin knelt white-faced and trembling next to me. “You fainted!”

  “I am fine. I am fine!” I felt as if I were shouting. “Say nothing to anyone about this. About my fainting. About the Queen. Do get me some water. Or better still some ale. I shall be fine.” Luckily we were alone. Robin came back within the space of a very few minutes. He handed me the flagon of ale. I took a sip. It was bitter. But it cleared my head and settled my stomach. I turned and looked at Robin fiercely. “The Lizard is behind all of this. Mark my words. But he shall not have his way. There shall not be another Queen that dies in the Court of Henry VIII. I vow this, Robin. I shall save the Queen.”

  “We shall save the Queen, My Lady.”

  “You are with me in this, Robin?”

  “I am. I shall swear a blood oath.”

  He took out his knife and right there nicked his thumb. I held out mine and he nicked mine. Then just before we pressed our thumbs together, I said, “This is not like getting married, Robin. You know how I feel about that.” “Yes, Elizabeth.” He nodded solemnly. “We are our own Round Table here. We are both knights!”

  “Yes!” I replied. And at that moment I was filled with an unspeakable whirl of emotions: fierce pride, utter joy, fear, sadness, a strange kind of longing and yes, a deep anger. I must discipline them all to serve Catherine Parr, my most illustrious and virtuous Queen. My teacher, my mother.

  25 April, 1546

  Hampton Court

  Robin and I keep a vigilant eye out for anything that might signal an ill wind for the Queen. Unfortunately there are many ill winds, and the stench rises already at Hampton Court and not only from the rushes. There is talk every day of heresy, of reformers who do not like that the Church of England still has such rituals from Rome. “Too Popish,” they cry, even though Father is the head of the church now and not the Pope. The punishment for heretics is to be burned alive. Kat would have a fit if she knew that I am now speaking once more with Mary Ward, but she is worth her weight in gold with the eyes of a hawk, the hearing of a deer, the nose of a ferret and the stealth of a mouse. She slips invisibly through the corridors and in and out of chambers and apartments. She tells us now that the Lizard has begun a very quiet interrogation of suspected heretics within the Court. They begin with the lower members – minstrels, horse grooms. But today they even took Jane the Bald off to interrogate. In other words, they draw the circle tighter and tighter until they can slip the noose around the Queen’s neck.

  28 April, 1546

  Nearly May Day and I do not even care. Today I heard that a poet and a minstrel were taken to the Tower of London last night by the Lord Chancellor and a detail of his own guardsmen. The men were put on the rack and the Lord Chancellor himself, with his aide Richard Rich, turned the screws to stretch the men until they confessed their heresy, their belief in a church other than that which my father heads.

  3 May, 1546

  May Day has come and gone. I pretended I was sick, for I had no stomach for Maying. They say the Lizard has begun to approach some of
the Ladies-in-Waiting, the ones who attend the Queen’s reading and study circle. The Queen herself looks pale and frightened. She never seeks me out to ask me about my studies. Speaking of which, I am worried sick about Master Grindal.

  5 May, 1546

  I have come to a decision about Master Grindal. He must leave the Court for his own safety. I realize now that he is a heretic by the definition of the horrible people like the Lizard and his camp. I shall tell him this tonight. I shall tell him that he must plead family illness. His mother is sick. That is what he must tell them.