by Georgina Lee
She glares haughtily at him. “I do not think I intended to marry him, no.”
“You do not think so,” he emphasises and shakes his head. “Your letter suggests that you did. You must know if your uncles were planning a marriage for you.”
“They may have done, I really could not say.” She starts to get up. “I must go now, you are confusing me.”
“No, you may not leave until I say so!” He blocks her path, his voice commanding.
“How dare you tell me what to do, do you know who I am?”
“Yes, you are Lady Arbella Stuart, and I am commanded by the queen herself as I have already said. You are to remain here until I decide you may leave.”
“I have to stay here?”
“I repeat, until I say otherwise!” She sits down again, biting her nails nervously. Sir Henry pulls up a chair to sit opposite her.
“Why did you write that letter?”
“You mean the letter that Dodderidge took?”
“Are there any other letters?”
“I am not sure.”
“The letter that Dodderidge took for you, who else helped you with it?”
“I asked my tutor, but he is not here. He said he would, but he will not be here until Easter. I cannot wait to get married until then, but I would never offend her majesty and if I have, then I am heartily sorry, for I did not mean to.”
“Who is your tutor and where is he now?”
“Mr Starkey, I think he is with his family. He is very kind to me, the only friend I have in this house.”
“Is he? I will need to question him.”
“Oh no! You cannot do that, he knows nothing, nothing at all. I was going to ask him to help me. But he cannot help me if he is not here can he?”
“Have you ever met Edward Seymour?”
“I do not think so.”
“And yet you wish to marry him.”
Arbella begins to laugh.
“Yes I did, what a strange thing to wish for; all women should marry. That is why my uncles helped me. Are you married, Sir Henry?”
“You are trying my patience Lady Arbella! Are you trying to be deliberately obstructive?”
“No … it is just that … my memory. I cannot think when you keep asking me so many questions.”
“Very well,” he replies. “Perhaps you can tell me in your own words how this idea of marrying Edward Seymour first came to you.”
“The idea came to me a long time ago, or was it only last week? I do not know, does it matter?”
“Yes it does matter; you must try to remember.”
“You see I am kept here as a prisoner. I am not allowed to see anyone or do anything. I have ideas, but I must repress them and they come to nothing. Husbands are not that easy to find, not good ones. Sometimes I think I will go quite mad, yes mad! What would everyone say to that?”
He regards her thoughtfully.
“I think you are tired. Would you find it easier to marshall your thoughts if you wrote everything down?”
“Yes, most definitely. I can write very well, you know. I have been told that my handwriting is very fine indeed, you can see for yourself from my letter to the queen. My lady grandmother has spent so much money on my education, which is as good as the queen’s herself. I can definitely write on my own, without any help from anyone.”
The words come tumbling out in a garbled rush and he gets up, bemused by her change of mood.
“You should go to your bed now and tomorrow I shall read what you have written about this affair. Make no mistake, Lady Arbella, I mean to find out everything, one way or another.”
She looks at him coolly before leaving, passing Bess and William outside without a word.
“Please come in,” Sir Henry asks them.
“Has Lady Arbella answered your questions, Sir Henry?” asks Bess, now hardly able to contain her anxiety. “If so, we should like to know what all this is about.”
“She has not answered any of my questions, countess. In fact, she is very distracted. I fear she is not quite well.”
He looks over to the remainder of the family who are still waiting in the Long Gallery, surreptitiously watching, and shuts the door.
“We must speak privately.”
He pauses to gather his thoughts, before telling them the details of how his visit has been thought necessary by the queen. Bess is so enraged that she interrupts him mid sentence.
“This is absolute nonsense! What is the girl about? She knows only the queen may decide such matters.”
“I cannot speak for my brother Henry, but I can assure you I would never entertain such an outrageous idea,” William tells him emphatically.
“God’s blood! You cannot believe that my son William was involved in this foolhardy scheme. My eldest son, Henry, yes, he may be foolish enough, but this is complete madness, Arbella has lost her wits! How was this letter sent?”
“One of your servants, Dodderidge, rode to Lord Hertford’s house with it. He has been arrested, pending my investigation.”
“Dodderidge? I thought he was visiting his family. Did he know the contents of the letter?”
“We cannot be sure, he is denying any knowledge, of course. He told us that she threatened to kill herself if he did not help her.”
Bess and William both look horrified at this news.
“So you can understand that the queen became very concerned when she found out, and I was dispatched here right away.”
“How could she do this? After all I have done for her. That ungrateful girl! I have a good mind to box her ears!”
Bess starts to move towards the door, but Sir Henry raises his hand in a gesture of restraint.
“Leave her be, countess. She is going to write a statement, which I shall look at in the morning.”
“May I be permitted to read her letter now, Sir Henry?”
“I do not see why not.” He hands it to Bess and she studies it with a growing sense of fury.
“I should have guessed she would do something of this nature. I have been so careful over the years but it has not been enough.” She looks at him anxiously. “I hope her majesty does not believe that we had any part in this ridiculous idea?”
“Please do not distress yourself, countess. My first impression of your granddaughter leads me to believe that she has a hysterical nature. Is that the case?”
“She chafes at her isolation here with me, what young woman would not? Perhaps it has affected her reason. I struggle to cope with her at times, I must admit.”
William puts his hand on her arm in a gesture of concern.
“Lady mother, I think you should rest now, all this has been a shock for you. I will call for Ruby and she will help you to lie down.”
Bess nods dumbly, and allows herself to be persuaded. It has all been stressful and she is feeling slightly overwhelmed.
“I shall write to the queen and reassure her of my ignorance in this matter. Her majesty cannot believe I had any part in it. Please excuse me, Sir Henry.”
“Of course,” he says. “I shall await Lady Arbella’s written statement tomorrow, which I hope will make more sense than our conversation a few moments ago.”
William returns with Ruby who helps Bess to go to her chamber. When they have gone, William turns to Sir Henry, his face serious.
“The care of my niece is becoming too much for my lady mother. As you can see, she is of advancing years, and this latest upset is very trying for her.”
“Yes, I can see it is a difficult situation.”
“My niece is of a romantic disposition, with a vivid imagination. I think her attempt to arrange a marriage for herself is an indication of how desperate she has become.”
“I agree, but she must not be allowed to imagine that such ideas are within the realms of possibility, her majesty will decide if and when a marriage will take place.”
“Of course,” William replies. “We are all aware of it, Lady Arbella is too of course. I cannot think what h
appened to make her believe she could possibly marry anyone in this way.”
Sir Henry stifles a yawn, he is now very tired and it is getting late. William is apologetic. “Forgive me, you must be in need of a rest yourself after your long journey. You will stay with us of course, I will have a servant show you to one of the guest suites and send up a tray of food.”
“Thank you, I fear there is little more I can achieve tonight.”
William leaves him alone, and hurries away to tell the others and order the preparation of a bedchamber for their unexpected guest. With a few moments to himself, Sir Henry wanders back into the Long Gallery, his hands behind his back, ignoring the family gathered at the far end. He peers at the wall hangings, the carved frieze above the chimneypiece and the two alabaster statues of Justice and Mercy, for he has heard tales of this fine house with its costly furnishings and adornments. He is disappointed to find it gaudy and ostentatious, too much for his own taste. On his approach to the house earlier, he could not help but see the initials ES and he shook his head in disapproval at such blatant self-promotion. But he knows that Bess is highly thought of by the queen, so he will keep his opinions to himself. As for the Lady Arbella, he is beginning to question her sanity after speaking to her just now; but he is prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt, and see how lucid she is after a night’s sleep. He yawns loudly and hopes the guest bedchamber is comfortable, which given the quality of everything else he has seen so far, is highly likely, thank the Lord.
Palace of Whitehall, London
To Elizabeth Talbot, the Dowager Countess of Shrewsbury.
Countess,
I have been commanded to write to you by Her Gracious Majesty Queen Elizabeth, regarding the matter of your granddaughter’s latest behaviour and continued presence at Hardwick Hall with you. Sir Henry Brounker returned to Court on 13 January and reported that Lady Arbella had been led astray by base companions. He was able to reassure her majesty that the attempted effort to secure this foolish marriage with Edward Seymour, was nothing more than a half-baked plan that would never have been successful. He also feels that Lady Arbella is being kept too strictly, which may be detrimental to her health, and concluded that Lord Hertford was completely innocent of the whole affair. It is to be regretted that your sons, Henry and William, have been implicated, but no evidence has been found against them. I am to inform you that the queen wishes your granddaughter to remain under your care, and knowing how your wish is to continue serving her majesty, this reply will no doubt be welcome to you.
I have also written to your granddaughter today, urging her to live in good harmony with you and with a warning that any similar transgressions in the future will not be so gently dealt with by her majesty. I should also add that in my own view, the disparity in age between these two people is so great, that the idea of a marriage would be quite ridiculous, and the plan was doomed to fail from the start.
Written this day xv of January 1603 by Sir John Stanhope, Vice-Chamberlain to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth.
16 February 1603
Now the dust has settled from Arbella’s failed bid to escape and marry Edward Seymour, the atmosphere at Hardwick is very strained. The letter written by John Stanhope only added to the humiliation felt by the family. Bess cannot bring herself to relax the strictness of the enforced regime and is puzzled as to why it should be, given the events of the last month. She has told Timothy to intercept Arbella’s letters intended for local neighbours who are sympathetic to her. Meanwhile Arbella writes again to the queen begging to be allowed to come to Court. She is not speaking to her grandmother now, which makes for an even tenser atmosphere between the two of them.
After having breakfast on a tray in her bedchamber, Bess settles down to look at her accounts. Caesar sits quietly at her feet and she will occasionally stroke him, which he accepts regally as if no more than his due. All around her the house is busy and she can hear the servants cleaning floors and attending to the fires. The relentless winds earlier in the year have subsided and given way to thick white snow, which gently coats the house and surrounding countryside, whilst long icicles hang like jagged teeth above the windows. She pulls her shawl more tightly around her shoulders and dips her quill into the black ink once more. Just then there is a rustle as some thick parchment is pushed under the door and she hears fading footsteps. Puzzled, she goes over and picks it up, recognising Arbella’s neat, slanting handwriting on the first page, but which deteriorates so much that by the last page, it is virtually indecipherable.
After ten minutes of careful reading she says aloud to herself “Oh dear, what are you thinking?”
There is nothing else for it. Calling for Ruby who is sewing in the adjoining chamber, she tells her to bring Arbella without delay, then she waits. Ruby appears with Arbella almost at once before tactfully leaving the chamber. Bess is shocked by Arbella’s appearance, for she has lost weight since Christmas, and looks gaunt and tired.
“Will you sit, child?” She asks her gently, but Arbella shakes her head. Bess holds up the letter and waves it like a flag in front of her. “Whatever do you mean by sending me this rambling and incoherent letter? You claim to have a secret lover, who will help you to escape! What madness is this?”
Arbella stares at her blankly and remains silent.
“Who is this man and how did you meet him? I am waiting!”
Reluctantly, Arbella finally replies, but her voice is cold and hard.
“I am not going to tell you; it is my secret.”
“What is wrong with you? Why are you acting in this way?”
“You think to control my life, but I have many friends that you know nothing of, and they have promised to help me escape.”
“And where would you go?”
“Far away from here!” She cries passionately. “My lover is very powerful, of royal blood and Scottish.”
Bess gives a disbelieving laugh. “You will be telling me it is King James himself, next!”
“You would not be wrong.”
“Arbella, what are you saying? That is not possible.”
“I have said too much, I will say no more of him.” She puts her hand over her mouth in a childish gesture, and Bess throws the letter on the desk.
“Put this silly notion from your mind. I do not think you realise what a lucky escape you had last month. Sir Henry believed you were lead astray by your so-called ‘friends’. Meanwhile, I was left to reassure her majesty in the strongest terms that I had no knowledge of your plans.”
Bess winces as she sits down, gripping her stick for support.
“I have given you the best of everything, the finest education and clothes. I have introduced you to everyone who is important at Court and you have lacked for nothing. It has taken me a lifetime to build the relationship I have with the queen, and now she trusts me implicitly. Your behaviour threatens everything I have achieved over the years. I cannot begin to tell you how disappointed I am with you.”
“It is not my fault! You have driven me to it. If I had been allowed to live at Court and marry, everything would have been different. You could have tried harder with the queen to gain my freedom!”
“I did try, often, and to no avail. These schemes of yours, these mad ideas have got to stop, Arbella.”
“Is it any wonder I have ideas, the life I am forced to lead? No one understands me here; I am not living the life of a royal princess as I was born to. I am just growing older and more miserable. Well, I will not stand for it any more, I have had enough. My secret lover will come one dark night and take me far away from this hateful place, and we will be married and live happily ever after. What do you say to that?”
“I say you have childish dreams that are not of the real world. I will write yet again to the queen and request that you go to Court, away from Hardwick, since you are determined to make trouble. I cannot be responsible for you any longer.”
Arbella finally begins to sob and runs to the door, turning once to glar
e angrily at her grandmother.
“That would please me beyond words! I do not wish to remain here another minute!”
“Come back here at once! I have not said you may leave; how dare you turn your back on me!”
But Arbella rushes out and Bess gets up to follow, hampered by age, she is not as fast.
“You are a wicked, selfish child!” she screams at Arbella’s back. “If your parents could see you now, they would be ashamed. After all I have given you, the best of everything, and this is how you re-pay me! Your uncle Henry is only helping you for his own ends, can you not see it? You do not deserve to call yourself a Stuart...”
But Arbella has fled downstairs, knocking over a servant bearing a tray and disappeared from view. Bess rubs her forehead wearily, closes the door and returns to her desk. She picks up her quill to write to the queen once more as promised, although she doubts anything will happen. She is seriously worried that if Arbella continues to be so wayward and unpredictable, they will both end up in the Tower, and Bess, the richest woman in the land, apart from the queen, will be powerless to stop it.
In another part of the house, Arbella’s tutor, Mr James Starkey, having returned earlier than expected, is sitting alone at his writing table. On it there are several books left out from the day before that he has not yet put away. His chamber is simply furnished, and quite unlike the lavish surroundings of his employer; but it does have a small fireplace that is plentifully supplied with coal. There is a narrow bed, a wooden chair and a small, folding table upon which sits a blue and white china jug and bowl, together with his most precious possession, a Bible. The carpenter has put up some shelves to hold the books that Bess has bought for him to teach Arbella; sometimes he reads them by the light of the candle when he cannot sleep. He has not moved for the last two hours, but stares through the window at the snow. The fire has gone out and with it any warmth, so his limbs feel cold and stiff, but he does not care.
