Authors: Emily Purdy
“Oh, Kat.” I hugged her close. “I know you speak from your heart, that this babbling is the outpouring of a loyal and loving heart and the true fidelity that you bear me, but I assure you, I am innocent! And though I am willing to consider marriage, it is not something that can be undertaken lightly …”
“Oh, stop it! Stop!” Kat cried. “It’s
me
you’re talking to, your dear old Kat, and I
know
how skilled you are at speaking a lot of words yet saying nothing at all!”
In a fury, I thrust her from me and began to pace wildly about the room, my fingers tugging and combing distractedly through my wild, streaming hair. “Robert Dudley has stood my good friend these many years, and none can, with just cause, object to our friendship and the favour I have shown him. I live my life in the open, surrounded all the time, watched by a thousand eyes, so
all
can see and rightly judge whether there is any dishonour in my conduct or not! But, I will thank you and all others to remember
this,
Kat: I am Queen of this realm, and if I had ever the will or desire to lead a dishonourable life—from which may God preserve me!—there is
no one
who could forbid me, but I trust in God that none shall ever live to see me conduct myself such!”
“Bess,
please,
for all the love I have borne you and that you bear your dear old Kat,
please,
at least, put some distance between yourself and Lord Robert!”
“No, I cannot.” I turned from her. “In my life I have had so much tribulation and so little joy, and he makes me happy, Kat—sometimes I hate and curse him, and myself for loving him, for I know full well what he is, what he aspires to, but, God help me, he makes me happy, Kat! Truly, Kat, I do not look to have him, and I wouldn’t even if he were free as the wind. I don’t want the ordinary, mundane sorrows and quarrels and familiarity that breeds boredom in a marriage. I want fun and frolic, excitement, to live while I am alive and young enough to enjoy it. I am innocent, Kat. I am condemned only by the scandalmongers’ tongues. No, Kat, I will hear no more of it. I will not give him up. I cannot.” And I left her to weep and called Robert’s sister, Lady Mary Sidney, and Lady Catherine Knollys and her irksome, provocative daughter, Lettice, showing off her high-trussed breasts again, plump as plums ready to be plucked, above a prune-coloured satin bodice laced breathtakingly tight. I bade them be silent, as my head ached, while they helped me dress in a gown of sapphire satin to match the sapphire heart Robert had given me.
When he came in, to escort me down the stairs and outside to dine beneath the stars, as musicians played and fireworks lit up the sky in myriad coloured sparks, I gladly gave him my hand and turned my back on Kat, who sat sobbing on the window seat with her back to me. I never looked back. But in my heart, I knew I was lying to everyone, including myself. I had to find a way to break Robert’s spell, or else I was doomed. I had fought too hard for this crown to lose it to, or over, a man.
The next morning when we were out hunting, my horse shied, and Robert grabbed the reins, as though I lacked sufficient skill to handle the situation.
“Don’t think you can snatch the reins from me!” I shouted, slapping at his hands with my riding crop. “I don’t need your help! I know how to handle a horse as well as any man!”
“Yes, of course you do,” Robert replied in a soothing and condescending tone that sought to stroke my vanity and make it purr like a well-contented cat. “And under my tutelage you will soon be even better, and people will say that their Queen is the finest huntress in the land!”
I glared hard at him. “If you reach too far, grasp too greedily, you will end up with an empty hand, smarting from being slapped down; remember that, Robert!” And with those words I spun my mount around and galloped away from him.
I fumed in silent fury, simmering within, fighting to keep from letting my temper boil over in the presence of my ladies as they divested me of my riding garb. I quivered and quaked, and it strained my self-control until I thought my skin would burst, splitting open like a suit of too-tight clothing at the seams, and the rage would come pouring out. But my ladies seemed oblivious to my mood and maddeningly slow as their fingers moved over the various buttons, aiglets, lacings, hooks, ribbons, buckles, and ties. I wanted to scream out my lungs, to slap, kick, and strike them, roaring out my rage, bellowing for them to get out. I don’t know how I kept it all in, but at last I was alone in my bath, shrouded in billowing curtains of steam. I felt my hands, grasping so tightly to the edges of the tub that they shook, relax and unfurl and my chest ease as my breath escaped in a long sigh.
When I emerged from my bath, I snapped at my ladies to take away the finery they had laid out in readiness for the evening. Instead I called for my night shift and dressing gown as I plucked the pins from my hair, raking my fingers through it and shaking my head as it tumbled about my shoulders and down my back, complaining that I had an abominable headache and would keep to my room. I sent them all out except Kat. I felt like a little girl again, lost and alone, as I had felt when my mother disappeared from my life, and, later, when I discovered what terrible fate had befallen her. I stood in the middle of my room, in my bare feet, free-flowing hair, and light, sleeveless, gossamer-sheer shift, pale as a spectre, bathed in the moonlight that poured in through the windows, and watched Kat, slow, grey, and stoop-backed, her fingers bony and gnarled, seemingly unable to straighten, fussing over my favourite dressing gown, a lavish, gold-embroidered emerald velvet one with sleeves that flowed back from my arms and swept the floor as they trailed behind me, and wondered when she had grown so old; the changes had crept up so slowly, I had scarcely noticed them before. I had seen, but I hadn’t really noticed. It made me wonder—what would my mother look like if she had lived?
“Kat!” I cried, tears suddenly filling my eyes when she came and held the robe up for me to slip my bare arms into. Instead, I fell to my knees before her, took her hand in mine, and kissed it. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “
Please,
forgive me!”
“For what, love?” she asked, a befuddled frown further creasing her careworn brow.
“For everything, for ever giving you cause to worry, or to doubt, or be ashamed of me. This business about Robert …”
“My darling girl.” Kat thrust aside the dressing gown she was still holding and reached for me. Tenderly, as the most loving of mothers, she took me into her arms and stroked my hair. “Bess, I could not be more proud of you if I had given birth to you myself. I am sorry if I spoke harshly to you, but that business with the Lord Admiral sorely rattled me. I was silly and foolish then, like a girl myself, when I should have known better; I was certainly old enough to know. I should have been more vigilant, as my position as governess to a princess demanded, but I fell under his spell, and when it all fell apart, it was a rude awakening indeed; it opened my eyes. I was wrong to have encouraged you with him; it was as though, even though I am so much older than you, we were giggling girls together in those days at Chelsea, and then, nigh overnight—it seemed to happen so suddenly—we had to grow up together. And I see so much of the Lord Admiral in Lord Robert, I just don’t want to see you make the same mistake … or an even worse one, since there is now so much more to lose. You are young and beautiful and have endured much; of course you want passion, excitement, and love. You
deserve
to have those things. I was just afraid that the freedom and power of being Queen, and the wiles of Lord Robert—he’s such a handsome, ambitious rascal, just like the Lord Admiral was—would go to your head. And that, while seeming to give, he might instead take it
all
away from you, and I don’t want to see that happen.”
“It won’t, Kat. I promise you, it won’t!” I cried as I clung to her. “The scales have fallen from my eyes. Don’t worry any more, Kat. Don’t let me or Lord Robert put another line on that sweet brow.” I stroked her forehead. “Today was another day of the sort you described, like of a sudden growing up, going from child to woman within the blink of an eye. I’ve come to my senses now, Kat, about Lord Robert, and he shall have no kingly triumph. I realised today that things cannot go on as they are. His ambition has grown too tall; it has to be cut down. And I can no longer ignore his arrogance and presumptuousness for the sake of a few pleasant hours.” I stood and picked up my dressing gown and fumbled my arms through the long sleeves, even as Kat tried to help me. “Everything is going to be all right now, Kat. Rest assured, your Queen now has full command of her head and her heart. Go now”—I kissed her cheek—“and send Cecil to me; then, to bed with you. I’ve been keeping you up too many nights lately.”
I paced restlessly back and forth across my room, absently combing, raking my fingers through my hair, in what was fast becoming a nervous habit, letting the stray strands fall free, until Cecil arrived, willing myself to harden my heart against Robert. My dream for us was not his dream for us, and the two could never be reconciled—I saw that now. I also knew that Robert would never give up; he wanted to seize the power from me just as he tried to take the reins from my hands today. I wanted a lover, not a consort, but Robert wanted a crown above all.
“I must speak with you about Lord Robert,” I said as soon as Cecil came through the door. “He grows too presumptuous; his manner is too lofty, he thinks to command all …”
“Indeed, Madame.” Cecil nodded. “There is a party late every night in Lord Robert’s chambers after Your Majesty has gone to bed, with drinking, feasting, gambling, and whoring, often lasting until cock’s crow.” He went on to describe how, regally attired in gold-embroidered purple velvet, like a king presiding over his own little court in miniature, surrounded by his surly-faced cudgel-, dagger-, and sword-toting retainers, who proudly wore the bear and ragged staff blazoned on their blue velvet sleeves, Robert entertained his supporters, men just as ambitious as himself who wanted to grasp tightly the coat tails of this man they saw as a rising, soaring star, hoping some of the stardust would rub off on them, and the harlots who sat upon their knees, allowing themselves to be kissed and fondled and hoping that, for them too, there were profits to be derived. Like the mighty Caesar, with a crown of gilded laurel leaves upon his dark head and a golden goblet brimming with blood red wine in his hand, Robert would lift his cup high and boldly, boastfully proclaim that I was
entirely
in his power,
completely
besotted with him, and would do
anything
he asked of me, even give him an earldom. “The patent is even now being prepared,” he presumptuously and precipitously boasted. And always, mysteriously and cryptically, he would declare, “If I live another year, I will be in a
very
different position from the one I am in now!” which many took to mean that here was their future King and flattered and fawned on him accordingly, his loyal, avaricious, lascivious band of sycophants, who would be the first to desert him when he crashed and burned, like Icarus, when he flew too near to the sun.”
“
How dare he!
The presumptuous knave, to think that
I
am in
his
power!” I shrieked. I could not believe the fool’s audacity!
“Madame, there is more.” Cecil interrupted my fuming outrage. “I fear that Lord Robert is now in the pocket of Spain. He has persuaded Philip to back his suit for your hand as soon as he is a free man in exchange for promising to rule England as Philip deems best.” To prove it, he took from inside his doublet a copy of a letter Robert had written to Philip that one of his spies had intercepted and copied.
I am the best servant Your Majesty has here,
Robert had written, and he went on to promise that if Philip and his ambassador could persuade me that I could safely marry Robert without loss of or detriment to my crown, he would
serve and obey like one of Your Majesty’s own vassals.
“Traitor!”
I screamed. “
Never!
Not so long as I have a single breath left in my body shall England be Spain’s vassal!
My
England shall
never
be just another coin in Philip’s purse, sold to buy Robert Dudley a crown. Before I leave this earth, I
swear
that my England shall be a power in its own right to be reckoned with. I shall make it so before I perish! I shall break him, Cecil, like one of his horses. I shall break him! I will show him who rules here. I shall show him whose hands hold the reins of power he dares try to snatch! I am mistress here, and I shall have no master, not Robert Dudley or through his mouth Spanish Philip, God blast and rot them both!”
“Bravo, Elizabeth Regina!”
Cecil nodded approvingly. “And, if I may be so bold as to say so, it is high time, and I shall rejoice to see you do it! And if I may be of
any
assistance in the matter, as always, I am at Your Majesty’s service.”
“Good.” I nodded and dropped down onto the window seat and patted the cushion beside me. “Then let us put our heads together, Cecil, and devise a way that will allow Robert to keep that handsome head of his but cool the fever of ambition that rages within it. With his words and schemes and actions, Robert has declared war, and I am now fighting the man I loved dearly as my best friend, for my throne. And a life—an innocent life, Cecil—also hangs in the balance.”
“Amy Dudley.” Cecil nodded knowingly.
“Yes.” I nodded sadly with a long, drawn-out, doleful sigh.
“I remember her on her wedding day, and how she
glowed
with happiness,” Cecil mused aloud quietly. “Mildred and I still have the cup she gave us in a glass cabinet where we keep various mementos and curiosities. She had such a lovely smile, shy and timid; I remember wondering how such a gentle creature could have won the heart of Lord Robert. Mildred was quite taken aback by the cup when Lady Amy presented it to us; the shape was rather …” He paused tactfully, searching for the right word. “… unusual … and tragically ironic, considering her current illness. And the Lady Amy, seeing Mildred’s surprise, and fearing that she had somehow given offence, hastened to explain the reason for their unusual design, how a story about Helen of Troy had captivated her father. We were quite touched by her sweetness and sincerity. She was a little unpolished by court standards, but she was by no means a crude or vulgar woman, or the sort of wife any man should ever have cause to feel ashamed of. Mildred and I quite liked her; we were surprised that she never came to court. If she had, I am certain Mildred would have befriended her. I always suspected that Lord Robert used her natural timidity against her, to frighten her and keep her where he wanted her, if she ever pressed the subject of coming.”