Robert exulted. Never before had he realized how completely she needed him. She was appealing to him now. Something drastic must be done.
The question they were asking each other was: What?
Robert knew that he had many deadly enemies. The Queen was popular enough to withstand the scandal their relationship had set in motion; but the people did not like to think that their Queen was conducting a dishonorable association with a married man. They therefore blamed Robert.
In the streets harsh things were said of the Dudleys, and in particular of Lord Robert. Who is this upstart? it was asked. It is true that he is the son of a Duke, the brother of a King, and the grandson of a Knight; but his great-grandfather was a farmer, and he was the only one who died in his bed an honest man. Let Lord Robert get back to his farm, and sowing his crops reap the family honesty.
Would they accept such a man as their King? And what would their reaction be if he divorced his wife in order to marry the Queen?
Elizabeth looked at him, seeing in him all the manly vigor of his twenty-eight years. She yearned for him; but even as she yearned, she cried out angrily: “Why did it have to be you … you with your blood tainted with treason, with your father, grandfather, and brother all dying by the axe … you, a married man with a wife between us!”
Robert gripped her arms, and her heart beat faster as she felt the strength and power of him.
“My beloved,” he said, “something shall be done … and soon.” She looked at him expectantly and he went on: “If I were free to marry and we married, our troubles would be over. All will be reconciled to our marriage when our son is born.”
She nodded, still keeping her fearful eyes upon his face.
“Nothing must stand between us,” he said. “Nothing!”
“But, Robert …”
“I know … I know what you think. We cannot thrust this aside just because it seems impossible. It is the most important thing in the world that we should be together … important for us and England. None but I shall give you your sons.”
She said faintly: “That is how I would have it, my sweet Robin. But how can it come about?”
“It shall come about … and speedily.”
She saw the set of his mouth and she understood.
The days of Amy Dudley were numbered.
She told him to leave her, for she felt she could bear no more. After he had gone she sank onto a stool and sat there in silence. What was one death in a great destiny? she asked herself. How many times had she come near to losing her own life? She was a Queen, and any who stood between her and the sons she would bear, must surely die.
William Cecil returned from Edinburgh where he had signed a treaty with the French. He was triumphant. England had come satisfactorily out of the affair. Now he would receive the gratitude of the Queen, which he hoped would take a practical form, for his family was growing and he was a family man who looked to the future.
Cecil was the cleverest man in England; he had come successfully through the difficult years. Although he had served Protector Somerset he had not fallen with him, but had transferred his allegiance to Northumberland; and when Northumberland had ceased to be a power in the land he had worked for Mary, never forgetting that he must remain the friend of Elizabeth. And because he was both calm and bold and never hesitated to set forth what he believed would be the best policy for the country, he continued successful; and Elizabeth—more than any who had gone before her—appreciated his qualities.
So now he came to Court to receive the Queen’s most grateful thanks.
Elizabeth’s twenty-seventh birthday was on the seventh of September and the Court had gone to Windsor Castle that the important event might be celebrated there.
So to Windsor came Cecil, for it was necessary to discuss with Elizabeth the arrangements for the coming of the Archduke Charles.
Cecil was pleased. The war was satisfactorily ended and Elizabeth was committed to the marriage. He believed that, once his mistress had a husband to guide her, the management of affairs would be easier, for when the Queen began to bear children she would be ready to leave affairs of state to her husband. Charles would steady the friendship with Spain and, in view of the French claims through Mary Queen of Scots, there was safety in Spain’s friendship.
He was therefore feeling very satisfied when he was shown into the royal apartments.
He knelt before the Queen, but even as he did so he was aware that all was not well. She looked older and there were signs of strain on her features. She did not congratulate him on his clever statesmanship in the arrangement of the treaty, which was the least she might have done. He told her that the Spanish ambassador had accompanied him to Windsor and was awaiting audience that the arrangements for her marriage might be discussed.
“There is too much haste concerning these arrangements,” she said sharply.
“Too much haste, Your Majesty! You will forgive me if I say that the Archduke has shown the utmost patience in this matter.”
She snapped: “I am in no mood to see the ambassador.”
“Your Majesty, if you fail to make these arrangements you will incur the wrath of the King of Spain.”
“What care I for that man! His feelings seem of little importance to me.”
“Madam, they are of the utmost importance to England.”
She stamped her foot. “Have done! Have done! Are we vassals of His Most Catholic Majesty as we were in my sister’s time?”
Cecil knew then that the state of affairs had not changed in the least. She had the look of a woman deep in desperate love; and that meant she still hankered after Lord Robert and was determined to have him or none other.
Cecil could see ahead quite clearly. This was what came of having a woman on the throne. Her personal feelings, her personal emotions were to put the country into jeopardy. If she were a King she would take a mistress and none think the worse. But she was a Queen, and the scandals concerning herself and Dudley were rampant.
Would that man were dead! thought Cecil.
Then he made a decision. His success was due to his consistent frankness. If he had served Protestant and Catholic irrespective of religion, he had never failed to serve his country. As he saw it, England’s relationship with foreign powers was all-important, and at the moment the most powerful ally England could have was Spain, and Philip must not be offended.
“Madam,” he said coldly, “I see you are so far gone in love for Lord Robert Dudley that you are neglecting your business, which is to rule this realm; and if you continue in your neglect you will ruin this country.”
Elizabeth gasped. Her impulse was to order Cecil to the Tower; but she quickly saw the folly of that. What would she do without Cecil? She honored him; and such was her nature that, even in that moment of anger, she knew that he was speaking the truth and that he was the one man—even more than Robert, whom she loved passionately—to whom she wished to entrust her affairs.
“You overreach yourself, Master Cecil,” she said, with a coldness that matched his. “None could prevent my marrying where I wished.”
“You are wrong, Madam,” said Cecil wryly. “Lord Robert’s wife prevents you.”
“Nothing else?” she said, and her words were a question. “Nothing but that?”
“Madam,” said Cecil, “if Lord Robert were in a position to be Your Majesty’s husband, your ministers would doubtless have no objection since your heart is set on this, and the country needs an heir.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Your insolence is overlooked on this occasion. I think that soon we shall reach a settlement of these matters. Lady Dudley will not live long.”
“Madam,” said Cecil aghast, “I see trouble ahead.”
“Go now,” she said, “and rest. You have had a long journey.”
He bowed and retired.
His thoughts were in a turmoil. Did he understand aright? Were they planning to rid themselves of Lady Dudley? But what a scandal that would be! Did they not see that? Even Queens—young and popular Queens—cannot with impunity connive at murder.
As he was leaving the Queen’s apartment, he met Alvaro de Quadra, the Spanish ambassador who had replaced Feria. De Quadra, spy for his master, ever on the alert, noticed the strained look on the face of the Secretary of State.
Falling into step beside Cecil, de Quadra asked: “And when may I have audience of Her Majesty? There is much to discuss concerning the marriage.”
Cecil was silent for a few moments, then he burst out: “Do not ask these questions of me. I am thinking of leaving my office. I see great troubles ahead. Your Excellency, if you are a friend of England’s, advise Her Majesty not to neglect her duty as she does. Would to God Lord Robert Dudley had lost his head with his brother. That would have been a good thing for England.”
“Lord Dudley?” said de Quadra. “So the Queen still frets for him then?”
“Frets for him? She thinks of nothing else. I know this, and it fills me with dread: They are scheming to murder his wife, that marriage between them will be possible. They say she is suffering from a malady which will shortly rob her of life, but I have discovered this to be untrue. Poor woman! Doubtless she is taking good care not to be poisoned, since she has lived so long.”
The Spanish ambassador could scarcely believe that he had heard correctly. Was this calm Cecil, the wily statesman, the man whose custom it was to consider his lightest remark before uttering it! And to speak thus before the Spanish ambassador, well known to be a spy for his own country!
Cecil recovered his poise; he grasped de Quadra’s arm and said earnestly: “I beg of Your Excellency to say nothing of this. This is the Queen’s secret matter.”
The ambassador gave his word, but immediately retired to his own apartments that he might write dispatches which on this occasion, he was sure, would prove of the utmost interest to his royal master.
A September haze hung in the air. Pinto was in one of the attics looking out over the countryside. How quiet it seemed! Yesterday she had watched the Fair people riding by on their way to Abingdon for the Fair. The servants were talking of it now. She was glad of that. When they were discussing the Fair they ceased to talk of Lord Robert and the Queen.
Poor Amy! She was desperately afraid—afraid of every footfall, afraid even of her fear, for she did not speak of it even to Pinto. She had reason to be afraid. She stood between Lord Robert and his marriage with the Queen.
A woman of Brentford, so they had heard, had been arrested for saying that the Queen was to have Lord Robert’s child. Had she spoken the truth?
Pinto was afraid in this house.
The grounds were beautiful and extensive, but the house itself was shut in by many trees; and it was only by climbing to the top that it was possible to see the open country.
Some of the rooms were large, but those which had been cells, were very small. There were two staircases. One of these, which led from the kitchen quarters, was a narrow spiral one; that which swept up and round the old hall, which had been the monks’ common room, was wide with elaborately carved banisters. This staircase was not enclosed, so that it was possible to look down into the “well” from any point.
It was a house full of shadows, full of echoes from the past. Pinto did not like the thoughts which had come to her while she had been living in this house.
Only last week a very disturbing incident had occurred.
Amy had fallen ill and Pinto, fearing that already she was being poisoned, had been frantic with anxiety.
Her fears had been so great that she had persuaded Amy to call a physician—not one of Lord Robert’s but a friend of the Hydes.
And the man had refused to come.
Lord Robert had his own physicians, he had said. It was their place to look after the health of Lord Robert’s wife.
There was something so alarming about such behavior that even Amy could not shut her eyes to it. The man would not come because he suspected Amy was being poisoned and wished to have no part in it. If Amy died suddenly and there was an autopsy, and her death were proved to be due to poison, it would be necessary for persons in high places to find a scapegoat; this man was clearly intimating that he had no intention of being that scapegoat. If Amy wanted a physician she must have one of her husband’s.
"A Favorite of the Queen: The Story of Lord Robert Dudley and Elizabeth 1" отзывы
Отзывы читателей о книге "A Favorite of the Queen: The Story of Lord Robert Dudley and Elizabeth 1". Читайте комментарии и мнения людей о произведении.
Понравилась книга? Поделитесь впечатлениями - оставьте Ваш отзыв и расскажите о книге "A Favorite of the Queen: The Story of Lord Robert Dudley and Elizabeth 1" друзьям в соцсетях.