Bess - A Novel

by Georgina Lee

  “But lady grandmother, I am not really a princess am I?”

  Bess bends down so that she is level with her.

  “My sweet jewel, you may not be a princess in name, but your connections are as royal as any prince. Our queen, God bless her, will eventually look to you as her heir. You are destined for greatness, Arbella. According to the stars, your horoscope predicts that you will achieve all my hopes and dreams for you.”

  The child looks uncertain and Bess chuckles. “But it is not for you to fret about such matters now. I am making sure that your education is as good as that of the queen herself. You will be able to hold your own in the highest company and be very accomplished by the time you eventually go to Court. Apart from the her majesty, of course, you will easily outshine all the other ladies.”

  At this, Arbella jumps up and down in delight.

  “When may I go to Court? I want to go to Court now.”

  “All in good time. We must wait for an invitation from the queen; and you are not ready just yet. But you will be soon, and we shall journey there together.”

  She pats her head affectionately.

  “Now run along back to your books like a good girl.”

  Arbella curtseys again, and with her head held high, makes her way along the corridor, very pleased with herself.

  1584 – Buxton, Derbyshire

  Queen Mary is sitting with George in one of his houses as they wait for the coaches to take them back to Sheffield Castle. She insists on bringing her little dog, which has been her constant companion for the last few years. George looks at it now with annoyance as it sleeps in front of the fire. For some reason, the dog has taken a strong dislike to him and growls in his presence. More than once George has had his ankles nipped, but Mary carries him everywhere and the two are devoted to each other, so he feels he cannot separate them.

  Having had to request for permission from the queen for this visit, they have both enjoyed the change of scenery and relative freedom it has brought. With all his recent troubles, George was in need of a holiday, although he is never really able to relax as Mary’s jailor. It is not their first time to Buxton and as it was used by the Romans, George feels this is reason enough to seek its benefits. The naturally warm spring water is said to have healing properties, and they have spent a week availing themselves of it; but now it is time for them to reluctantly leave.

  “This visit to Buxton has done me so much good – I feel quite refreshed!” she says.

  “I wish I could say the same. My gout is still just as troublesome,” he replies miserably.

  “But has it helped your arthritis?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I am sorry for it.”

  Mary looks concerned and then her gaze wanders around the chamber. They are quite alone and she decides to take the opportunity to speak to George in confidence.

  “I would like to discuss a very private matter with you.”

  “I hope your majesty feels that we may discuss anything of concern to you.”

  He gets up to check that the guards outside cannot hear their conversation and resumes his seat.

  “Pray continue.”

  “I have been very hurt by the rumours that we …” she hesitates and lowers her eyes in embarrassment, “… are lovers and that you have fathered my child.”

  George becomes very flustered and clears his throat several times. “I too have been deeply affected by this scandalous lie. It is an insult to us both.”

  “I understand such scandalous gossip is common at Court, but as you are a married man, and with myself as a queen, it is especially upsetting.”

  “I hesitate to tell you what I know, for fear of causing you more grief.”

  “You must tell me,” she says.

  “There is an innkeeper in London who has been telling everyone that he knows where the child is buried.”

  Mary looks horrified and her eyes immediately start to swell with tears.

  “Please do not distress yourself, your majesty. I have instructed my sons to make enquiries on my behalf in London and find out as much as possible about it.”

  “And what have they discovered?”

  “It seems this vile rumour was first heard over ten years ago.”

  “Have you found out the person responsible for starting it?”

  “I have not; but I have my suspicions.”

  “As do I.”

  Neither speaks for a few moments. Then George moves his chair nearer to her. Mary lowers her chin and looks at him through her lashes.

  “I am afraid I believe it was your wife, the countess.”

  “Then we are in agreement for I truly think that she did instigate the rumour, together with her sons, William and Charles. I have thought it for some time, but I did not want to believe that my wife would stoop so low.”

  “It is a wicked course of action for anyone to take.”

  “What really pains me is that everyone thinks she is so wonderful! I write to the queen herself, to Lord Burghley and Sir Francis Walsingham and they all take her side. No one will listen to me. I know they just humour me all the time. She manages to fool them all …”

  “She is very clever, despite her lack of education.”

  “And her ambition knows no end! You have heard about her plans to marry Arbella to your son or to the Earl of Leicester’s baby son before he died. She dreams of the child being Queen of England one day. It is all ridiculous, but she will not be swayed.”

  “Yes, I know all about it. She begged me to agree for Arbella to be married to James. I believe she will stop at nothing to obtain her goals. I had thought we were friends at one time and I used to enjoy her company, but after time, I discovered her true character.”

  “I have been sorely deceived by her ever since we married.” She nods sympathetically and says, “The question is, what can we do about it?”

  “We must take some action; she must be made to realise that she will not get away with such slander.”

  “I am going to formally complain to my cousin, your queen. She will have to take notice.”

  “We could both write to the Privy Council and demand that she and her sons must be questioned at length.”

  “They will not dare to ignore my requests over such a serious matter. I am deeply offended that our integrity is being questioned in this way. I know you to be a man of honour, my lord, and I have every faith in your judgement. You have been badly treated by your wife, who does not deserve you.”

  “I thank God that at last I have found someone who understands what I suffer.”

  “I understand much more than you think.” She reaches for his hand, a gesture she has never made before, and his heart skips a beat.

  “My captivity has been made less arduous by your kindness towards me. The last fifteen years have been the worst of my life, but I thank God that you have been there for me, otherwise I might have been under the care of a harsh man who showed me no respect. Whatever my future holds, I hope that we shall always remain friends.”

  He looks down at her hand over his own. It feels cool to the touch; her fingers are long and slender, he thinks they are a fitting place for her beautiful rings.

  “As far as it is possible between jailor and prisoner, your majesty, it would also be my wish. I would have preferred to spend time with you under better circumstances but …”

  She withdraws her hand.

  “Yes, history will not judge your queen kindly for my long imprisonment, but you are not to blame for it. We have got to know one another well, have we not? It is almost like a marriage, the two of us together all those years in such unusual circumstances.”

  Before he can reply there is the sound of a key rattling in the lock.

  George whispers, ”I shall write as soon as we return.”

  “I shall do likewise,” murmurs Mary and bends down to pick up the dog, which has woken up and is now sniffing round her skirts. Within minutes they are on their way. At last George feels h
e has someone who appreciates what he is going through.

  As George and Mary begin to make their way back to Sheffield Castle, a distance of about twenty miles, Bess is in London at the Palace of Whitehall with Lord Burghley. He has requested a meeting with her and once she has ensured that William is to be released from prison, she readily agrees. They face each other now across his desk, and she thinks he looks even more tired than usual.

  “There are two important matters I wish to speak to you about, Bess,” he says. “Firstly, her majesty and the Privy Council have decided to relieve the earl of his duties as jailor to the Scottish Queen.”

  Bess raises her eyebrows in surprise. “I see, may I ask the reason for this change of heart?”

  “Your husband has recently allowed a fanatical Catholic, the Earl of Rutland, to visit Mary, against all the security guidelines we have laid down.”

  “I suppose that because Rutland is his first wife’s brother, he thought the visit would be all right.”

  “Yes, it is possible that he was misguided enough to believe it, but we have never questioned his loyalty. His judgement has not always been sound lately.”

  He frowns and shuffles some papers on his desk, avoiding her eye. Bess thinks he is about to say more about it, but she is mistaken.

  “Sir Amias Paulet will replace him, but in the meantime Sir Ralph Sadler leaves for Sheffield

  shortly.”

  “How will my husband be told?”

  “Her majesty has written to summon him to London, and the letter will be waiting when he returns from Buxton; she wishes to tell him to his face.”

  Bess thinks of the relief it will bring to George; this has been his dearest wish for such a long time. “He will be pleased at the news,” she says.

  Lord Burghley nods gravely, before pausing to bend down and unlock a drawer in his desk. He pulls out a letter which she notices bears Queen Mary’s seal; she has a sense of dread at its possible contents, which she thinks can only be bad.

  “I have here a letter from Queen Mary that is written to our own sovereign Queen Elizabeth. I am afraid it contains some very damming personal accusations about you.”

  There is total silence in the room as Bess regards him steadily, her green eyes unblinking. She has been afraid of something like this happening. Now that it has, she is almost glad. It is not in her nature to be fearful, and she would rather face her problems, than imagine what they might be in the future. He lays the letter down on the desk.

  “I think it would be best if you read it for yourself.”

  She reaches out for it and opens the thick parchment. She recognises Mary’s handwriting at once, for it is very distinctive. The letter is long, and consists of a series of remarks, which Bess is supposed to have made to the Scots Queen over the past years that Mary has been a prisoner. She reads it with an ever-growing sense of horror, and feels her face blushing under his scrutiny. At the end of the letter, she looks up. “This is all lies, my lord.”

  “Of course, I give it no credence.”

  “Look at some of these wild stories – that I spent many hours gossiping with her, and promised I would help her escape! That our queen has Sir Christopher Hatton, the Earls of Oxford and Leicester as lovers. I have said she is vain, treats her ladies cruelly, we all laugh at her behind her back and …” Her voice is barely a whisper.

  “I can hardly bring myself to say it, that her womanly parts are deformed! Sweet Jesu, can you see me ever uttering such appalling and treasonous lies? I, who have always had the utmost respect and love for our great queen?” The words on the page have started to swim before her eyes and she puts her hand to her head to steady herself. Allowing her a few moments respite, he gets up and pretends to look out of the window.

  “I see that she demands my appearance before the Council to answer for the accusation that I started the rumour of her pregnancy, and that my husband is responsible.”

  “It is within her rights, and the earl is also demanding it; their letters arrived at the same time,” he replies. “I am so sorry, Bess. The queen has instructed me to set a date for the Council to meet. William, Charles and yourself will be required to answer their questions about this matter.”

  “And if we refuse?”

  “I would not advise it.”

  “Does … does her majesty know of this letter?”

  “The queen only knows that they have requested a hearing. Sir Francis intercepted this particular letter before it reached her.”

  At this Bess allows herself to breath more slowly again. She knows that if the queen were ever to read this letter, the consequences could be very damaging to her and her plans for the family.

  “It is so insulting, so cruel to accuse me in this way. Questioning the queen’s virginity of all things! Why has she done it? What can she hope to gain by such slander?” She throws it down on the desk and struggles to remain calm.

  “Perhaps by discrediting you, her own status will be enhanced.” He gives her one of his rare smiles. “Do not be afraid, Bess, I shall keep this letter in my safe-keeping. Apart from us, only Sir Francis has seen it and his discretion is guaranteed, you may be sure. I do not know why she wrote it, but we think it shows that she is a desperate woman now, who will say anything to shift blame on to others. I think you are an easy target for her.” He returns to his desk and sits down. “I will let you know when a date has been arranged, it will be soon.”

  “I treated her with kindness in those early years, she became like a younger sister to me. I never thought for one moment she was capable of such vindictiveness; and my husband continues to hound me. I cannot think what I have done to incur his displeasure to this degree. Once again my lord, I am in your debt.”

  He gathers up the letter and replaces it carefully in the drawer, turning the key and waving aside her thanks.“Believe me, the sooner we are rid of the Scots Queen, the better it will be for all of us.”

  The interview has only lasted minutes, but it seems like hours. Feeling hot, she wants to be out of this chamber, away from his gaze, and as far as possible from that poisonous letter that is surely burning a hole his desk with its malicious gossip. The phrases that Mary used are going round and round in her head. She begins to feel faint and quickly excuses herself. He barely notices as he is already concentrating on his work. In the passage, she stumbles towards the door that leads to the gardens, and the cold air hits her, making her gasp. Bent over double, she has a wave of nausea and blind panic as she leans against the wall for support.

  “Are you quite well, countess?” She turns to see one of the younger ladies-in-waiting staring at her with concern.

  “Very well thank you, I just felt a little hot.” She pulls herself straight and smiles at the girl, who continues on her way.

  Bess must not be seen like this, it is a sign of weakness, which the Court will seize upon, and the gossips will be busy again. Adjusting her headdress, she takes some deep breaths and prepares to walk back through the Hall, and past the ever-curious courtiers to the privacy of her chamber. She needs to be alone and gather her thoughts. How she wishes she were at home now! The noise of the courtiers talking in the Hall reaches her ears as she turns the corner. News that Prince William of Orange has been assassinated in the Netherlands is the main topic of conversation; it will mean that Spanish victory in the Netherlands now looks very likely. No doubt its possible consequences for England will be discussed late into the night. Bess has no interest in politics, but at least such news will keep people speculating and discussing the outcome; so attention will be diverted away from any gossip at Court, for the time being at least.

  When she reaches the sanctuary of her chamber, she closes the door with relief, and leans against it for a few moments, her heart pounding. Agnes is on an errand for her and will be out for a couple of hours, giving Bess some time to herself. If Agnes could see her like this, she would be questioning her, and Bess does not want a fuss. She slips off her shoes and lies on the bed. The accusati
ons in the letter have not shocked her quite as much as she led Lord Burghley to believe. Like everyone at Court, Bess is aware of such gossip against the queen, whispered in dark corners or on pillows between lovers. Such outrageous tales never see daylight, but they surface from time to time, furtively and secretly, like a forbidden game. But for Bess to be accused of telling Mary these lies about the queen, that in itself is a shock, and Bess is very shaken by it. This is the worst action that Mary could have chosen to discredit her. She wonders why the letter has been written now, when she has not spent time alone with Mary for many years. Being a victim does not sit easily with Bess; she has always been a fighter; for her rights, for her family and for justice. Now she finds she is without recourse, and must depend on the discretion of Lord Burghley and Sir Francis Walsingham to save her from exposure and disgrace. What if the queen was to read it and believed its contents? She goes cold at the thought. Getting up from the bed, she paces up and down, unable to keep still. There is no one she can turn to, because no one must know, not even her family. The less people who know, the better.

  Eventually she begins to feel calmer; Lord Burghley and Sir Francis have given their word to keep the letter a secret, she must trust them. In the scheme of everything concerned with Mary, this is after all, a minor event; the spiteful ramblings of a deposed Queen of Scotland and the increasingly nasty behaviour of a husband who is fast losing credibility. With these thoughts she feels ready to face the world again, and when Agnes returns, she finds her mistress quite composed and looking forward to the evening’s entertainment.

  Winter 1584 – 1585 London

  In the time it takes Lord Burghley to arrange for the Queen’s Council to convene, Bess is busy preparing her defence. Returning home is not an option until this matter is settled. She makes several journeys in her coach to the village of Holborn and consults her lawyer in Gray’s Inn, who is one of the top members of his profession in the country. Her spies are ordered to urgently report to her for further instructions, and they set about their work without delay to discover anything that will help her case.