Bess - A Novel

by Georgina Lee

  The two countesses are walking in the gardens the day after their arrival. It is a fine April morning and a freshening breeze stirs the branches of the lilac trees that are about to blossom. A gardener has started a bonfire and the earthy, acrid smell blows over them briefly as they make their way past herb beds of aromatic rosemary and thyme. He removes his hat and bows as they pass, and Bess acknowledges him with a nod. Margaret is a lively companion and they enjoy one another’s company. Since her arrival though, she has been uncharacteristically quiet. Bess suspects there is something on her mind and waits for it to surface in their conversation.

  “When did you last see the Scottish Queen? I can hardly bring myself to speak her name, such is my hatred for her.” Margaret’s voice is brittle as she asks about her daughter-in-law.

  “I know, I would feel the same given your circumstances,” Bess replies, knowing that Margaret suspects Mary of involvement in her son Henry’s death. “She leads us all a merry dance with her demands and conspiracies. I am glad to be out of it whenever I am able, for it wears me down.”

  “And your husband? Has he fallen in love with her yet?”

  “Do not jest, Margaret! The subject causes me much concern.”

  “I do not mean to upset you Bess, forgive me, but surely he is not so weak as to be taken in by her superficial charms?”

  Bess cannot bring herself to tell her friend that is exactly what has happened, in her view. “No, of course not.”

  “He is caught in the middle of you both. An unenviable position for anyone. He has a weighty task on his hands, but I should imagine you are a great help to him.”

  “Not as much as I should be,” Bess says regretfully. “I hate to be there, locked up like a prisoner myself with no-one allowed to visit. It is a wretched existence, miserable and lonely.”

  “I am sorry to hear it. Is there no sign that her captivity will end?”

  “I wish I could say there was, but no, it has been five long years now.”

  “At least you can have a respite from it.”

  “For that I am grateful. If not, I fear I would go mad.”

  “You are too strong for that to happen, Bess. You are the last person I can think of who would succumb to such a malady.”

  They look at one another and smile. For a minute they walk in silence, under the pergola where an old vine flourishes each summer, then between a shady avenue of tall lime trees leading towards a fine expanse of lawn at the back of the Abbey. Here they see Charles and Elizabeth practising archery, amidst much laughter. Margaret and Bess pause to look at the two of them together. Bess breaks the silence.

  “They make a handsome couple, do they not?”

  “They do indeed. Elizabeth is not yet married, is she, Bess?” Margaret is well aware of the answer to this question and regards her friend with an air of conspiracy.

  “Alas, no. She is my only daughter still unwed. I have not found anyone of sufficient status for her.”

  “How old is she now?”

  “Nineteen at her last birthday, of similar age to your Charles. Do you have any plans for him?”

  “Not as yet.” Margaret stops and turns to face Bess. “We are old friends, Bess. May I speak frankly?”

  “Of course.”

  “I find myself in financial difficulty, it pains me to speak of it, but I must. You know that we do not receive any income from the Lennox estates, and that the Lennox lands now belong to my grandson, the boy King James, Queen Mary’s son. If only I could resolve the future of my son Charles and my financial crisis at the same time.”

  “I may be able to suggest a solution that would please both of us,” Bess says softly.

  Margaret looks shocked. “I hope you are not thinking that Charles and Elizabeth could be married. We would need permission from Queen Elizabeth for such an event and I doubt she would grant it.”

  “Come Margaret, do not pretend you have not thought of it yourself and it is the reason you are here with me!”

  “I could say the same to you, Bess. The idea had occurred to you months ago when we met, can you deny it?”

  “We understand each other perfectly. Elizabeth has a dowry of four thousand pounds.”

  “And Charles has sufficient status, I think you will agree.”

  “What a splendid couple they make!”

  Once again, they look over to the pair, who are running hand in hand towards the trees. He is blond haired and slim, whilst she has her father’s quiet manner and dark eyes.

  “They do seem very happy in each others company,” Margaret muses. “Elizabeth has always been a sweet girl.”

  “We need to be sure they spend time together over the coming week. It might be helpful if you took to your bed for a few days, Margaret. Then I could nurse you back to health, and the two love birds will have a chance to be alone and get to know one another.”

  “Why must I take to my bed? Why not you?”

  “Because everyone knows I am never ill!”

  Margaret laughs. “All right, it will be me.” She suddenly looks troubled. “But I am worried about the queen …”

  “We shall present her with a fait accompli.”

  “She will not like it.”

  “She will have to accept it.”

  “I think it is worth the risk,” Bess tells her. “The queen shows no sign of marrying and will soon be past child bearing. Think of any child that Charles and Elizabeth produce, it would be a Stuart, a potential heir to the throne of England and Scotland after the boy King James.” Bess’ eyes sparkle and Margaret grips her hand in excitement. “Can it really happen?”

  “We can make it happen.”

  They link arms and start to walk back inside, keen to put their plan into action as soon as possible.

  Within a week, Bess returns to Sheffield Castle to face George with the news.

  “Married already!” he gasps.

  “You should be pleased, it is a good match.”

  “Have you lost your senses, Bess? I cannot believe you could be so reckless!”

  “Well your attempts at finding a husband for Elizabeth all came to nothing, I had to do something.”

  “You have done something all right, this is a calamity for us. The queen will be absolutely furious. She would never have given her permission for such a match.”

  Bess arrived back just before dark without Elizabeth, who is with her new husband and mother-in-law on their way to Settrington in Yorkshire. Trying to find the right moment to tell him that Elizabeth and Charles Stuart were now husband and wife was tricky, but she decides to come out with it as they get into bed that night.

  “It is true she will be none too pleased, at first, but I think she will come round, eventually.”

  George looks as if his eyes are going to pop out of his head, and can only stare at her in horror.

  “All will be well, husband, you will see. They fell in love, who are we to place obstacles in the path of true love?”

  “What fanciful nonsense!”

  “Wait until you see how they look at one another. He is besotted with her and she with him. I am sure it will not be long until I have another grandchild, and a very special one.”

  “The queen will annul the marriage and declare any child illegitimate. Your grand plans will come to nothing.”

  “There is no reason for an annulment, everything was done properly. We made sure of it.”

  “I wager you did! How long has this little scheme been in the planning? All the time you have been neglecting your duties here with me and I thought you were busy with household and business matters. As usual, you have deceived me, and now it will look as if I were a part of it.”

  “No-one will think any such thing, you exaggerate, George. And I do not deceive you, when have I ever done so?”

  He scowls at her in frustrated anger. “You cannot help yourself, it is part of your character to claw your way up to wherever or whoever it is that you have set your sights upon. Have you any idea what the
consequences will be for all of us?”

  Bess takes some rose salve and rubs it in her hands. “I am ready for it. Sometimes risks have to be taken.”

  “You might be ready, but what about the rest of us? You and your infernal ambitions!”

  “My ambitions have done nothing but good for my family. I only want the best for them; is that such a crime?”

  He shakes his head in despair.

  “I shall have to convince them that I knew nothing about it. Gods blood, your Elizabeth is now Mary’s sister-in-law and aunt to the boy king.”

  “Yes,” replies Bess calmly, settling down in the bed and getting comfortable.

  “You have thought all this through very carefully, have you not?”

  “Of course. You do not think I would entertain such an arrangement lightly, do you?”

  “It is all too late now. I must try and explain it to Lord Burghley. I can see you going to the tower for this. I shall say I knew nothing of it.”

  “Then you will be lying, for I mentioned it some months ago.”

  “Did you? My memory is not what it was; anyway I shall deny everything.”

  “If I am sent to the Tower, then so be it. A short visit will be worth it.”

  “How can you speak of it in that way?”

  “I am thinking of the future, the long term future. Where are your ambitions, George?”

  “Having been born into one of the finest families in England, I have had no need of such schemes,” he replies with a sneer.

  “How fortunate for you, some of us have had to work hard for position and wealth.”

  “Do you think I have not had to work for royal favour? All those years commanding armies when I spent years away from my first wife, Gertrude, when I was Lord Lieutenant in those northern counties, and my duties as Chief Justice …”

  “I am not saying you did not work hard.”

  “Well, what are you saying?”

  “I mean that what you take for granted because you have had since birth, some people have to obtain through their own endeavours.”

  “Yes, and this is the result, a hole in the corner marriage without royal permission. Did Margaret Lennox forget she has already been sent to the Tower twice?”

  “If Margaret Lennox has to return there, she will be familiar with the surroundings.”

  “That is a heartless comment and not worthy of you.”

  “Margaret knew the risks just as I did. She obviously felt it was worth it, the means justified the end.”

  “Does your daughter realise the seriousness of it? The queen could punish her too.”

  “I doubt it. Margaret and I will be seen as the instigators of this marriage.”

  “I do not know how you can discuss it so calmly.”

  “It makes a change from discussions about Queen Mary, of whom I have become heartily sick in recent months.”

  “As if I have not got enough to cope with! You have added to my burden when it is your wifely duty to support and obey me. You must never put us in this position again.”

  “I shall do whatever is necessary to secure the future of my family.”

  “Are you listening to me, or am I talking to the wall?”

  Bess closes her eyes and does not reply. George gives an exasperated sigh and gets up. “I repeat I do not want you to do anything of this nature again. You have gone too far Bess, and your disgrace is mine.”

  He paces backwards and forwards awkwardly, his face mottled with anger.

  “I mean what I say! As my wife it is your duty to obey me in all things. I will not have you putting my name in jeopardy for the sake of your detestable ambition.”

  He stands over her and she can feel his breath on her cheek. She opens her eyes and sees he is close to losing his temper.

  “I am sorry, husband,” she eventually responds meekly. “You are right of course. I shall consult with you before matchmaking again.”

  Looking down at her upturned face and beguiling eyes, he thinks she is not sincere, but what’s done is done. She reaches for his hand.

  “Did I tell you that Mary and Gilbert are coming for the Christmas festivities? They will stay until Easter, so she will be here with me for her lying in.”

  “When is my first grandchild due?” His gruffness cannot disguise the pride in his voice.

  “They think in the middle of February. We have permission for them to stay; only the midwife may attend her. I only wish we could have all the family, I miss them so.”

  “I know you do.”

  He pulls his hand away, still furious.

  “I must take some more opium, my pain is bad tonight.”

  “Can I help?”

  “No, I can manage,” he mumbles as he leaves the room, limping from his gout.

  She watches as he struggles to turn the door handle. The physicians do not seem able to help his arthritis, and now his hands are becoming quite deformed. She silently thanks God that her own health is good. By the time George returns, she is sound asleep and he blows out the candle, hoping for an undisturbed night. The repercussions of Elizabeth Cavendish’s marriage to Charles Stuart, so skilfully engineered by Bess and Margaret, have yet to be felt, and George is all too aware of its potential to cause damage to himself and his family.

  The earl’s prediction that the queen would be furious came true. Within a week, letters were arriving at Sheffield Castle from Bess’ son Charles and George’s son, Gilbert, who at twenty-one years of age respectively, were now at Court. They wrote of the gossip and speculation that the marriage has produced, to say nothing of the queen’s rage. Sir William Cecil, now Lord Burghley, wrote to George and warned him that the consequences could be serious. Margaret, Charles and Elizabeth were all commanded to appear before Queen Elizabeth, who promptly sent Margaret to the Tower. The two newlyweds were told to remain at their house in Hackney until the official enquiry was complete. Bess was luckier and was able to use the excuse of attending the birth of her grandchild, born to Mary and Gilbert the following February 1575, which she begged the queen to allow. It was a boy they called George and is the first male child to one of George’s sons.

  Margaret was eventually released from the Tower, and in time, the queen forgave Bess. In November 1575, a year after the wedding, Elizabeth gave birth to a daughter, Arbella. Sadly Charles Stuart died of consumption only six months later, which helped to ease Queen Elizabeth’s anger. But there are now serious problems surfacing within Bess’ marriage that threatens to destroy it.

  1577

  A group of young courtiers stand idly in an antechamber at Greenwich Palace watching Bess with some speculation, taking wagers as to what will happen when she comes before the queen. Some think she will be publicly humiliated and sent back to Derbyshire in disgrace, while others are convinced that a stay in the Tower will be her next resting place. It is the first time some of the newer members at Court have seen the Countess of Shrewsbury and they eye her curiously, for her reputation as a woman of substance is well reported. Today she is dressed in a new amber coloured gown with heavy brocade panels, her hair elegantly dressed by Agnes in the French style and she wears a large gold and ruby necklace with matching earrings.

  Having arrived a week ago, she was told the queen has been ill and unable to receive her until now. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she breathes deeply and hopes the wait will not be too long. She has not seen the queen since the marriage of Elizabeth to Charles Stuart. Blanche told her that she has been forgiven, but nonetheless she is naturally apprehensive and has thought very carefully what she will say.

  At last the door is opened and a page beckons for her to enter. Bess makes her way towards the queen, who is seated on her ornate, gold leafed throne. She wears a magnificent purple gown of the finest silk, with intricate silver embroidery that glimmers in the shafts of sunlight falling through the window. A multitude of sparkling emeralds and cream pearls adorn her head, some entwined around her red wig. On her neck rests the most exquisite, heavily
starched, white lace ruff, the biggest that Bess has ever seen. In contrast, Lord Burghley stands beside her as usual, sombrely dressed in black, holding his staff, and with his face giving nothing away.

  Bess curtseys deeply and dares to raise her head, but the queen regards her with a sisterly affection and extends her ringed hand, which she kisses optimistically.

  “Bess, we are pleased to see you at Court. Come closer, let me see you”

  “Your majesty, I trust you are quite recovered?”

  “Quite recovered, yes, it was a trifle really, but my physicians are cautious.”

  “Your health and well being is our greatest concern.”

  “That is reassuring, I am surrounded by well-wishers. You must sit, Bess.”

  They smile at one another and Bess sits on the step at her feet, an honour only granted to a favoured few.

  “Your gifts were very welcome, I always know that you will find something to please me that bit more.”

  “I am glad you are happy with them. I thought the jade silk gown particularly fine and perfect for your majesty’s fine colouring.”

  “I shall wear it tonight and you shall tell me if it is perfect or not.”

  “I must hear your news for you can make me forget all my cares of state. How I miss you at Court! You do not come often enough. How is the earl?”

  “My dear husband is well and sends you his best wishes for your continued health and happiness.”

  “And the Scots Queen, how does she fare?”