by Jean Plaidy
“I swear she will not live long.”
“The people…”
“The people would be delighted if you married an Englishman.”
“Yes…but one of noble family.”
“You forget. My father was Lord Protector of England when you were called a bastard.”
“He went to Tower Hill as a traitor. I was born a Princess, and a Princess I remained.”
“Let us not bother with such matters. They are unimportant, for you have said you would marry me if I were free.”
“I said I believed I might.”
“My darling, I am no foreign ambassador pleading for his master. I am flesh and blood…warm and loving…here…your lover.”
“Not that…yet.”
“But soon to be!”
She freed herself and walked up and down the room. She said after a pause: “It is not often that we may meet thus, and you waste time, my lord. If, as you say, there may come a time when I might marry you, there should be no scandal concerning us beforehand. The people would not like that. Continue to be my Master of Horse, my loyal subject, until such a time as I may find it possible—and in my heart—to elevate you to a higher rank. But leave me, Robert. Leave me now. If you stay longer it will be known. The gossips will be busy with us.”
She gave him her hand and he took it, but his lips did not stay on her fingers. He clasped her in his arms again.
“Robin,” she said, “my sweet Robin, how I have longed for this!”
But Kat was already at the door with the news that William Cecil was on his way to see the Queen.
But how could she keep this overwhelming love a secret? It obsessed her. She could think of little else. If he were absent, nothing pleased her; but the Master of the Horse only had to put in an appearance and she was all gaiety.
She wanted to show her love and her power at the same time. She gave him the Dairy House at Kew, and that was a lovely old mansion; nor was that all. He must, she decided, be rich beyond all her courtiers; she liked to see him clad in fine clothes and jewels, for who else could show them off as he did? There were some monastery lands which must go to my Lord Dudley; and as many merchants in England had grown rich through the export of wool, he should have a license to export that commodity, and lands and riches with which to develop the industry. As if this was not enough, she must invest him with the Order of the Garter. There was no gainsaying her. Let any man come to her and say that my Lord Dudley was unworthy of such honors and she would make him feel the full force of her displeasure.
She was fiercely in love. Thus had her father, King Henry, been when he had become enamored of her mother. The main topic of conversation throughout the Court was the Queen’s passion for Robert Dudley.
She arranged special pageants at which much time was devoted to jousting, for none could joust like Robert Dudley. She would sit watching him, her eyes soft, then kindling with applause, for he was always the victor, his skill being so much greater than that of any other man.
She talked of him at every opportunity; when she was with her women she would bring the conversation back to him again and again. She liked to have him compared with other men that she might point out how greatly he excelled them all. She even encouraged her courtiers to criticize him so that she might have opportunities of enlarging upon his perfections.
She was in love and she did not seem to care who knew it. On one occasion when he was competing in a shooting match, she disguised herself as a serving girl and entered the enclosure that she might be near him. But when he had beaten his opponent she could not resist calling out: “Look, my lord, who has passed the pikes for your sake.”
The Earl of Sussex remarked that it might be a goodly conclusion to the matter of her marriage, if Lord Robert Dudley were free for her, for he was sure that a woman so full of desire for a man as the Queen was for Dudley, could not fail to get children.
Cecil had the courage to warn her. It might, he told her in his blunt way, be impossible for her to marry elsewhere, if rumors concerning herself and Dudley persisted.
But she did not heed him. Headstrong as her father, she would show her favor where she wished; and if that favor fell upon “the most virtuous and perfect man” she had ever known, it was only right and natural that this should be so.
“Favor!” cried Cecil. “But what favor, Madam? It is said that you would marry this man if it were possible for you to do so.”
“I like a man, Master Cecil,” she said. “And the man I marry will be no sit-in-the-cinders kind of man. He will be a man of many perfections, worthy to marry the Queen.”
Cecil sighed and had to content himself with urging caution.
But the rumors were spreading beyond the Court. “The Queen plays legerdemain with my lord Robert Dudley,” it was said in the hamlets and villages. And from that it was an easy step to: “Have you heard then? The Queen is with child by Lord Robert Dudley. What next, eh? What next?”
Great news was expected. There was tension throughout the country. Even those who did not believe the Queen was pregnant, believed that Robert was her lover.
Cecil inwardly raged while the Court whispered. But for the existence of poor unwanted Amy Dudley, there was no doubt who the Queen’s husband would be.
Kat, as usual, had her ear to the ground. She was worried, for these scandals rivaled those which had been circulated when Seymour had been reputed to be Elizabeth’s lover.
She came to the Queen and said: “Dearest Majesty, I beg of you to take care. Terrible things are said of you.”
“Who dares?” cried Elizabeth.
“The whole country. Mayhap the whole world!”
“They shall suffer for their lewdness.”
“Dearest Majesty, I fear it will be you who suffers. You must consider these rumors. You must remember you are a Queen, and a Queen of England.”
“What rumors are these?”
“They say that you live in dishonor with Lord Dudley…That you are his mistress.”
The Queen laughed shortly. “Yet all those about me know such rumors to be false. Look at me! Look at the people who are always about me. My councillors, my statesmen, my ladies of the bedchamber, my gentlemen of this and that…” She spoke almost regretfully: “What chance have I, Katharine Ashley, to lead a dishonorable life!” Her eyes flashed. “But if ever I had the wish to do so—but God I know will preserve me from this—I know of no one who could forbid me!”
Kat was dismissed; and she went out shaking her head, wondering what would happen next.
Robert did not enjoy the same popularity with his own sex as he did with the other. Envious eyes followed the Queen’s favorite. Robert knew that there was nothing that could produce hatred so surely as success, and that therefore he must have inspired much enmity. His great desire was to marry the Queen but he wished to do this with the full support of her ministers. He and Elizabeth had been foolish to expose their feelings to the public gaze. Robert sought—with the Queen’s consent—to remedy this.
The Archduke Charles—the son of the Emperor—was now seeking to marry the Queen. Robert called his sister Mary to him. Mary Sidney had, through her brother’s influence, a high post in the Queen’s bedchamber. Elizabeth was fond of Mary. Was she not the sister of Robert, and was it not pleasant to talk to one who loved him in such a sisterly way? Mary Sidney very quickly had the confidence of the Queen.
“Mary,” he said, “there is much gossip concerning the Queen’s marriage.”
“Robert…is there any news of you…and the Queen?”
“What news could there be while Amy lives?”
Mary’s eyes expressed her anxiety. “But, Robert, Amy will continue to live. She is so young.”
“Yes, yes,” he said impatiently, “so it would seem. But…because I have married her and because of the rumors regarding myself and the Queen, many are speaking against me. I would remedy this, and I want you to help me.”
“You have done so much for us all. Ther
e is nothing we would not do for you, Robert.”
“My dear Mary, I trust I shall always be your very good brother. Now the Queen is with me in this: Archduke Charles is eager to marry her; and although she is by no means eager to marry him…”
“Being eager to marry only one man,” interrupted Mary with an affectionate smile.
He nodded. “She and I would have it believed that she is contemplating this match, which, as you know, would greatly please the Catholic peers. I want you to seek an opportunity of telling the Spanish ambassador that the Queen has hinted to me that if she could see and approve of the Archduke Charles, she might marry him.”
“Robert, this means…”
“It means one thing. I wish to put an end to these rumors which do none of us any good. I wish the Court and the country to believe that the Queen has discussed her marriage plans with me, and that she and I, knowing a marriage between us is impossible, have agreed that it would be wise of her to take the Archduke.”
“I will do this, Robert; and, of course, I understand your meaning.”
After Mary’s words to the Spanish ambassador there was great excitement among the Catholic peers; Norfolk, in particular, was delighted. Who, they asked each other, could know the Queen’s mind better than the Dudleys? The Queen was too wise a woman, and Robert Dudley too wise a man, to believe for a moment that they could marry each other. Robert would have to divorce his wife to do so, and the people would not be pleased at such procedure.
Amy meanwhile had heard the rumors regarding her husband and the Queen. It was impossible for them to be kept from her, for Robert had become the most talked-of man in the country.
At first she had been proud of him; she had heard of his exploits at Court; how at Greenwich he had held the lists against all comers; how the Queen favored him and had presented him with lands and honors.
Then she began to understand the cause of the Queen’s favor.
“So,” she said to Pinto, “it is because she is in love with him! Oh, Pinto, it is a frightening thought: The Queen is in love with my husband!”
Pinto said grimly: “You and she are not the only two ready to make fools of themselves for his lordship’s sake.”
“You should not hate him so, Pinto. You should try to understand him.”
“Have I any reason to love him when he makes you so unhappy?”
“You seem a little strange when I speak of him. Do you think he will try to divorce me?”
“It would not surprise me.”
“I will never let him go. How can I? How could I want to live if I were no longer Robert’s wife?”
“It would be a happier state for you if you were not his wife, Mistress.”
“But I would rather have his brief visits than no visits at all.”
“Little mistress, you are a fool.”
“No, Pinto. I am in love with him. That is all. But perhaps love makes fools of us and you are right when you say that I am one. I only know that I must continue to be one, because I love him now that he no longer cares for me, just as I did in the first days of our marriage.”
“Then you show little sense.”
“Does anyone in love show sense?”
“Perhaps they do not.”
“I wish he would come here that I might ask him what these rumors really mean. I would ask him whether, if I were no longer here, he would marry the Queen.”
Pinto was angry. She hated to talk of Robert, Amy knew. Yet to whom else could she speak of him as she wished to speak?
“We are very rich now, Pinto,” said Amy. “I should have a grand house. I shall ask Robert why I do not. During the season we could entertain the nobility. Is that not what is due to the wife of a man in Robert’s position?”
“No man was ever before in his position,” said Pinto.
“I will not stay here in my father’s house,” said Amy. “I shall travel a little. Why should I not? Let us leave the day after tomorrow for Denchworth. The Hydes will be glad to have me.”
“Everybody would be glad to have Lord Robert’s wife,” said Pinto.
“They would indeed. You see, Pinto, why I could never give him up. I would never consent to a divorce. Would you, Pinto? Would you?”
“How can I say? How could I know?”
“Ah! You would wish for a divorce. You would be only too glad. But then, you do not love him. You do not know how different he is from all others.”
“Let us go to the Hydes, Mistress. The change will be good for you.”
Pinto sat stitching her mistress’s new gown in preparation for the visit to Denchworth.
She was thinking of the messenger who had come to the house three days ago. He had brought money and gifts from Robert for Amy. Pinto was a little afraid of Robert’s gifts. She had grown alert.
This messenger was unlike the previous messengers. He was gentle in manner, softly smiling, eager to ingratiate himself with the household, and in particular with Amy’s personal maid. He must have recently joined Robert’s service for Pinto had never seen him before.
She chanced then to look out of the window and she saw this very messenger sauntering in the gardens. On impulse she put aside her work and went downstairs. She did not go to him; she let him see her and come to her, as she guessed he would, for she believed from his manner that he had hopes of learning something from her.
They walked together in the rose garden.
“I should imagine that you have a good position here with Lady Dudley, Mistress Pinto,” he said.
“Very good indeed.”
“It is clear that her ladyship is fond of you.”
“I have been long with her.”
“I doubt not that you know all her secrets. She is a beautiful young lady. Many must admire her.”
Was he trying to make her disclose some story of indiscretion? wondered Pinto. Was he hoping to discover something which would enable Lord Robert to put her from him?
She said: “I know not who admires my lady. I know only that she has no admiration for any man but her lord.”
“That is clear, Mistress Pinto. What sort of health has my lady? She looks blooming, but one can never tell.”
“Health! Lady Dudley’s health is of the best.”
“Come, come, you may trust me. I have heard that she suffers from some growth which is gradually sapping her strength.”
“It is not true!” cried Pinto.
“Are you sure it is not true…?”
“I swear it. I am in her confidence. She could not keep such a thing from me.”
The man nodded; and Pinto had a feeling that his mission was completed. He made an excuse to go back to the house. She accompanied him.
She was trembling when she returned to her needlework. A terrible thought had come to her. Rumors regarding her mistress’s health had been set afloat. And who would be likely to start such rumors? To what could they lead? Did it mean that one day Pinto would find her mistress dead of some strange malady?
Was this poisonous gossip the forerunner of more deadly poison?
William Cecil and Nicholas Bacon were with the Queen. Cecil was explaining that he could not send for the Archduke Charles unless the Queen would give him a direct Yes or No. She must not forget the position of the Archduke; to ask him to show himself on approval would be an insult. If the Queen would give her definite answer and tell them that she was prepared to marry the Archduke, nothing would delight them more than to send for this suitor.
“Yes or no, Your Majesty. You understand this is imperative.”
“Oh, come,” said Elizabeth, “I could not give a direct answer until I see him. I might hate him, and how could I marry a man whom I hated!”
“But Your Majesty has already expressed your deep interest in this match.”
Elizabeth looked haughtily at her chief ministers. “How can you know my feelings?” she demanded. “Have I told you I am ready to marry Charles?”
“Your Majesty, Lord Dudley and his siste
r Lady Mary Sidney have made it quite clear what is in Your Majesty’s mind.”
“How should they know what is in my mind?”
“Madam,” said Cecil, “it is believed that they, more than any in your realm, have your confidence.”
“They have misunderstood me this time,” said Elizabeth.
“Then are we to understand that Your Majesty has come to no decision with regard to the Archduke?”
“Your understanding is not at fault. I am no more inclined to Charles than to any other.”
Cecil and Bacon were annoyed by this, but Norfolk was furious.
The Duke angrily sought out Robert and demanded to know what right he had to spread rumors which were without truth.
“I! Spread rumors?” cried Robert.
“You and your sister! Did you not imply that the Queen had chosen her husband?”
“I am sorry you are disappointed,” said Dudley.
“Have a care, my lord!” cried Norfolk. “You go too far. Much is spoken against you.”
Robert’s hand went to his sword hilt. “You place yourself in danger, my lord Duke,” he said. “The Queen would not consider you a good Englishman and a loyal subject since you wish her to marry outside the realm. You would bring foreigners among us. Her Majesty would not like that…she would not like that at all.”
Norfolk stared at Robert. How would he represent this encounter to the Queen? Was it not a fact that she would be inclined to believe anything that Robert told her, since she was as infatuated with him as ever? Norfolk retired, seeing his mistake.
The victory was Robert’s. But he had not added to the number of his friends.
The news came to England that Philip of Spain was to marry Elisabeth de Valois, daughter of Henri Deux. A blow to England this, for it meant the union of her two enemies against her. Queen Elizabeth seemed unperturbed. She refused to look at the marriage politically. She merely pouted on hearing of the withdrawal of so powerful a suitor.
“What inconstancy!” she cried to Philip’s ambassador. “Could he not wait a few short months? Who knows, I might have changed my mind. And there he will be…married to a French Princess when he might have married the Queen of England.”
