She quickly pinched her cheeks, hoping to look less pale, to look as if she hadn’t a care in the world except to celebrate Christmas. She smiled at Molly and hurried out the door and along the corridors to the Great Hall, where crowds were gathering to await the Queen’s arrival.
Alys marvelled at the beauty around her. The vast, dark hall had been transformed into a wintry forest. Hangings of white and silver draped from the ceiling beams, enclosing them in shimmering moonlight, and tall trees in silver pots lined the aisles. Pages also in white moved among the courtiers with trays of wine goblets and the musicians in their gallery played soft madrigals of love and summertime.
Unlike the real winter forest outside, the air was warm from the roaring fires and the crowds of velvet-and fur-clad people, who clustered around Alys as she appeared to exclaim over her adventures. She smiled and chatted with them, sipping at her wine, but all the time she searched for John’s face in the crowd. She did not see him and a tiny, icy spot of worry touched her heart.
Suddenly, there was a loud herald of trumpets from the gallery and Queen Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, dazzling in black velvet with sleeves of cloth of gold, her red hair piled high and twined with gold-wrought leaves. On her arm was John.
Alys’s heart beat quicker at the sight of him, so very handsome in a tawny-gold doublet trimmed with black ribbons and jet buttons, a topaz earring in his ear and a courtly smile on his face as he listened to the Queen. He did not seem worried at all; surely she should not either, Alys told herself.
The Queen mounted her white-draped dais, her golden train rippling behind her. She raised her hand and silence fell over the hall. ‘We have much to celebrate tonight, methinks, after so many dangers have been turned aside and we have music and wine in abundance. We also have thanks to give. Lady Alys Drury, come forward!’
Alys folded her hands together to stop them from trembling and made her way forward. John met her at the foot of the dais and together they made their bows to the Queen.
‘We owe you a great deal, Lady Alys, for the bravery you have shown in our defence,’ Queen Elizabeth said. ‘And, as it is the Yule season, we are given to dispensing gifts. What would be your wish?’
Alys glanced at John, who gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Your Majesty’s safety is a great gift indeed.’
The Queen waved the words away with her jewelled hand. She turned to John with a teasing arch of her brow. ‘What would you gift such a heroine, Sir John?’
‘I would give Lady Alys anything in my power, Your Majesty,’ he answered with a bow.
‘Hmm.’ The Queen frowned as if she contemplated what to do next. ‘Then we have a suggestion, provided that Lady Alys’s excellent father agrees. He has served me long and well in Ireland and now we are minded to think of his retirement. He has been sent for and should arrive at court very soon.’
‘Oh, Your Majesty, thank you so very much!’ Alys cried, her heart lifting at the thought that she would see her father again.
‘If Sir William Drury agrees, then we shall have a wedding in the New Year,’ Queen Elizabeth said. ‘Sir John, we order you to marry Lady Alys, and make her mistress of your estate at Huntleyburg. Craftsmen and workers shall be sent there before your wedding to make it comfortable. What say you? Is this too onerous a task?’
Alys’s hand tightened on John’s and his fingers squeezed hers. This could not be real, she thought. It was another dream. She had just been given all she could ever desire! She looked up at John and saw her own hope and joy reflected in his green eyes.
It was real. She had her love.
‘I would say I am most content with this, Your Majesty,’ he said.
‘And you, Lady Alys?’ Queen Elizabeth said. ‘Do you accept this as reward for your bravery?’
‘I do, Your Majesty,’ Alys whispered.
‘Very good. Now, we must have a dance! Musicians, play a galliard,’ the Queen commanded and swept off her dais to lead the dance.
Alys took John’s arm and let him lead her to their own places in the figures. ‘Is it true, then?’ she said, holding his arm tightly so he could not slip away from her. Not now, so close to their dream coming true. ‘We will marry and live at your home, and my father will come to England as well?’
‘It seems so,’ John said with a laugh. ‘But are you truly sure you want to marry me, my angel, after all I have put you through? Will you be content as a country lady, away from the court?’
‘I shall be the most content lady England ever saw,’ she said. ‘I only ever wanted your heart, John, as you have mine.’
‘And that you shall have, my lady, for the rest of our days. Now—may I have this dance?’
Alys laughed, and held on to his hand to twirl into the most merry Christmas dance she had ever known. A dance of truest love.
Epilogue
St James’s Palace—springtime
‘There, Alys. You look absolutely beautiful.’ Ellen finished adjusting Alys’s lace ruff and stepped back with a smile to examine her handiwork.
‘If I look at all presentable, it will be thanks to you.’ Alys laughed nervously, and twitched at her sleeve, white brocade shot with glittering silver thread and slashed to reveal fine silver satin beneath. ‘I’ve never worn such a gown before.’
‘The raw material for stylish beauty must be there first, of course,’ Ellen answered. ‘Now, go have a peek in the looking glass.’
Alys went to the precious polished glass the Queen had loaned them and peered cautiously into it. She almost gasped at what she saw, sure it could not be her. She wore her new gown of silver-and-white brocade and satin, trimmed with lace and pearl embroidery, a silver edge to her ruff and a train attached at her shoulders of deep blue velvet. Her dark hair was piled high and twined with pearls, and she wore her mother’s pearl-and-diamond earrings. A new necklace of pearls, the gift of her father, shimmered at her throat.
‘Oh, Ellen, you have done wonders! I do not look like myself at all.’
‘It isn’t every day a lady gets married and in the Queen’s own chapel,’ Ellen answered with a wistful smile. She seemed sad for a moment, but then she laughed and turned away to smooth her own blue-velvet skirts. ‘We should hurry, or we’ll be late. You cannot keep your handsome bridegroom waiting.’
Alys thought of John, her wonderful, handsome John, soon to be her own husband, and she laughed with the marvel of it all. ‘Yes, let us hurry.’
Ellen led the way out of their dressing room and through the corridors to the Queen’s great gallery, a long walkway with tall, sparkling windows on one side, looking out to the spring-green park, and fine tapestries lining the dark wood wall on the other. Alys’s train wound behind her, until two little girls in gold brocade and crowned with flower wreaths hurried to pick it up. More girls walked before her, scattering rose petals as she walked. The courtiers who waited, a bouquet themselves in their bright satins, fell into procession behind her.
Alys had been wounded in the Queen’s service and this was how Elizabeth rewarded her, with a wedding fit for a princess. Alys couldn’t believe this was how the Queen lived every day, with people staring and processing behind her, everyone clad in their finest in her honour. It seemed amazing, for a while anyway, but Alys couldn’t wait to depart. She and John were being sent to Paris for a royal mission, then would return to Huntleyburg to make their home there.
They moved down a covered outdoor walkway towards the royal chapel. The winter seemed truly gone now, the breeze from the park warm and scented with sweet flowers and greenery. The world seemed made entirely new with the sun. The dangers of the winter were far behind them at last.
Her father waited at the doorway for her, smiling as he held out his hand to her. He, too, wore white satin and blue velvet, a plumed cap on his greying head. He seemed to have regained so much of his health sin
ce he had returned to England and his smile was brighter now in his own new life.
‘My dearest Alys,’ he said, his voice thick with tears as he kissed her cheek. ‘How beautiful you are. Just like your mother.’
Alys felt tears prickle at her own eyes. ‘I am sure she watches us today.’
‘Elena is always with us. She walks with us now.’
The doors opened, spilling out a great fanfare of music, and Alys took her father’s arm to step inside. The royal chapel, where they said the Queen had knelt in prayer as the Armada advanced on her kingdom, was truly splendid. The gilded ceiling far above their heads, carved with Tudor roses and royal initials crowned, glittered in the light from the tall windows and the mosaic floor beneath their feet gleamed. The guests took their places in the tiered pews and Alys and her father processed towards the gold-and-white altar. In the gallery above their heads, the Queen herself watched the ceremony, a spring princess in pale green and silver.
But the only person Alys could see waited for her at the altar. John had never looked as splendid as he did in that moment, in blue velvet slashed and embroidered with gold, yet Alys saw only her Juan in his rough clothes and beard. The man who had opened the whole world to her, shown her that she had her own strength.
They had both been so lonely in their lives and now they would never be alone again. They would see the world together and make the rest of their lives something most splendid.
Her father gently placed her hand in John’s and the Queen’s own chaplain stepped forward to unite them.
John raised her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. When he smiled at her, his beautiful eyes shone with tears and it made her want to cry with joy, too.
‘My beautiful bride,’ he said. ‘’Tis a lovely day for a wedding.’
‘Oh, aye,’ Alys answered. ‘The most beautiful day of all...’
* * * * *
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Keep reading for an excerpt from THE WINTERLEY SCANDAL by Elizabeth Beacon.
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Author Note
The Spanish Armada—La Grande y Felicisima Armada: ‘The Great and Most Fortunate Navy’—was one of the most dramatic episodes of the reign of Elizabeth I and one of her defining moments. If it had succeeded, the future of England would have been very different indeed, but luckily the weather, the Spanish under-preparedness and the skill of the English navy were on the Queen’s side. The mission to overthrow Elizabeth, re-establish Catholicism in England and stop English interference in the Spanish Low Countries was thwarted.
King Philip began preparing his invasion force as early as 1584, with big plans for his fleet to meet up with the Duke of Parma in the Low Countries, ferry his armies to England and invade. His first choice as commander was the experienced Marquis of Santa Cruz, but when Santa Cruz died Philip ordered the Duke of Medina Sedonia to take command of the fleet.
The Duke was an experienced warrior on land. But he had no naval background and no interest in leading the Armada, as the invasion fleet came to be called. He begged to be dismissed, but Philip ignored the request, as well as many other good pieces of advice about adequate supplies and modernising his ships.
After many delays the Armada set sail from Lisbon in April 1588. The fleet numbered over one-hundred-and-thirty ships, making it by far the greatest naval fleet of its age. According to Spanish records, over thirty thousand men sailed with the Armada, the vast majority of them soldiers. A closer look, however, reveals that this ‘Invincible Armada’ was not quite so well armed as it might have seemed. Many of the Spanish vessels were converted merchant ships, better suited to carrying cargo than engaging in warfare at sea. They were broad and heavy, and could not manoeuvre quickly under sail.
The English navy, recently modernised under the watch of Drake and Hawkins, was made up of sleek, fast ships, pared down and manoeuvrable. Naval tactics were evolving; it was still common for ships to come alongside each other and allow fighting men to engage in hand-to-hand combat. Advances in artillery were only just beginning to allow for more complex strategies and confrontations at sea. At this stage the English were far more adept at artillery and naval tactics than the Spanish, who were regarded as the best soldiers in Europe.
The Spanish plans called for the fleet to sail up the English Channel and rendezvous off Dover with the Duke of Parma, who headed the Spanish forces in the Netherlands. This in itself presented huge problems. Communications were slow and the logistical problems of a rendezvous at sea were immense.
Perhaps worst of all the problems faced by the Armada was Philip himself. The King insisted on controlling the details of the Armada’s mission. He issued a steady stream of commands from his Palace of the Escorial, yet he seldom met with his commanders and he never allowed his experienced military leaders to evolve their own tactics. He did not listen to advice, which was a shame, for Philip had little military training and a poor grasp of naval matters. He firmly believed that God guided him and that therefore his mission would succeed.
A series of signal beacons atop hills along the English and Welsh coasts were manned. When the Spanish ships were at last sighted off The Lizard, on the nineteenth of July, 1588, the beacons were lit, speeding the news throughout the realm. The English ships slipped out of their harbour at Plymouth and under cover of darkness managed to get behind the Spanish fleet.
The Spanish sailed up the Channel in a crescent formation, with the troop transports in the centre. When the Spanish finally reached Calais they were met by a collection of English vessels under the command of Howard. Each fleet numbered about sixty warships, but the advantage of artillery and manoeuvrability was with the English.
Under cover of darkness the English set fire ships adrift, using the tide to carry the blazing vessels into the massed Spanish fleet. Although the Spanish were prepared for this tactic, and quickly slipped anchor, there were some losses and inevitable confusion.
On Monday July the twenty-ninth the two fleets met in battle off Gravelines. The English emerged victorious, although the Spanish losses were not great; only three ships were reported sunk, one captured and four more run aground. Nevertheless, the Duke of Medina Sedonia determined that the Armada must return to Spain. The English blocked the Channel, so the only route open was north, around the tip of Scotland and down the coast of Ireland.
Storms scattered the Spanish ships, resulting in heavy losses. By the time the tattered Armada regained Spain it had lost half its ships and three-quarters of its men, leaving a fascinating trove of maritime archaeological sites along the Irish coast—and myths of dark-eyed children born to Irish women and rescued Spanish sailors! In reality, most of them met fates far more grim and sad.
In England the victory was greeted as a sign of divine approval for the Protestant cause. The storms that scattered the Armada were seen as intervention by God. Services of thanks were held throughout the country and a commemorative medal was struck, with the words ‘God blew and they were scattered’ inscribed on it.
Come and visit me any time at ammandamccabe.com, where I always have historical info and fun stuff like deleted scenes!
If you’d like to read more about this fascinating and tragic event, here are a few sources I liked:
Robert Milne-Tyne, Armada!, 1988
Ken Douglas, The Downfall of the Spanish Armada in Ireland, 2009
Neil Hanson, The Confident Hope of a Miracle: The True History of the S
panish Armada, 2003
Laurence Flanagan, Ireland’s Armada Legacy, 1988
James Hardiman, The History of the Town and Country of Galway, 1820
Colin Martin, Shipwrecks of the Spanish Armada, 2001
Garrett Mattingly, The Armada, 1959
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The Winterley Scandal
by Elizabeth Beacon
QUEEN'S CHRISTMAS SUMMONS, THE Page 23
