Read A Favorite of the Queen: The Story of Lord Robert Dudley and Elizabeth 1 Online
Authors: Jean Plaidy
She could scarcely take her mind off the pleasures in store and give attention to serious matters.
Peters and Turwert, the two anabaptists from Holland, were to be burned at the stake while she was out of her capital. She had had many letters concerning these men. Bishop Foxe, whose chief concern was with martyrs, had written to her begging her not to sully her name, her reign and the Reformed Church by emulating the Catholics. Bishop Foxe and those who agreed with him did not understand. She must not come into the open as a supporter of anabaptists. Philip of Spain was watching. If only her people knew how she dreaded that man, how in her heart she knew that he, with that fanatical fervor she had once glimpsed in his eyes, was waiting for the day when he and the Catholic community would dominate the world, and all men would go in fear of the Inquisition!
She did not concern herself overmuch with these two Dutchmen. She was, like her father, not given to brooding over torture inflicted on others.
There was another matter which offered more pleasing reflection.
Catherine de’ Medici—now that her beloved son Henri was King of France and a married man—was hoping that Elizabeth might reconsider as a suitor her younger son, he who had been Alençon and, since his brother had become King, taken his brother’s title of Duke of Anjou.
Elizabeth found it amusing to play at courtship again.
The little man was quite ugly, she had been told; but the French ambassador—that most charming La Mothe Fenelon—was loud in his praises. The little Duke, he intimated, was beside himself with love for the English Queen; and if she were older than he was, he liked her for that. He was no callow youth to enjoy mere girls. Elizabeth had also heard that he was a little pock-marked, which she had said, made her hesitate. Catherine de’ Medici wrote to Elizabeth saying that she knew of an excellent remedy which, it was claimed, would remove all trace of the pox and make the skin smooth again. Elizabeth replied that this was excellent news; and they must at once have the remedy applied to the face of the Duke.
And now … to Kenilworth.
It was July and very warm when the procession arrived at Long Ichington, which was six or seven miles from the Castle. Here Robert had erected a tent in which a banquet was prepared.
The Queen, in good humor and most affectionate, would have Robert sit beside her; and when the banquet was over, Robert had a fat boy, six years old, brought to her—the fattest she had ever seen, but so foolish as to be unable to understand that she was his Queen. After the fat boy, she was invited to inspect an enormous sheep: the biggest of their kind, these two, and both bred on Robert’s territory. The Queen laughed immoderately, and this was a good beginning.
They left the tent and followed the chase which was to lead them to Kenilworth Castle.
The Queen, at the head of the chase, kept Robert beside her, and while he pointed out with pride all the beauties and richness of the scene, he said: “I owe all this to my dearest mistress. May I die the moment I forget it!”
She was pleased, and as she was reluctant to give up the hunt, there was little daylight left when they reached the gates of Kenilworth Park.
In the Park, pageants greeted her. Smiling, she acknowledged the greetings of all; and when she reached the castle itself, there at the entrance stood a man of immense stature, carrying a club and keys. As she approached he expressed surprise at the magnificence of the company, until, affecting to see the Queen for the first time, he went on with great wonder:
“Oh, God, a priceless pearl!
No worldly wight, I doubt—some sovereign goddess sure!
In face, in hand, in eye, in other features all
,
Yes, beauty, grace and cheer—yea, port and majesty
,
Shew all some heavenly peer with virtues all beset
.
Come, come, most perfect paragon, pass on with joy and bliss:
Have here, have here, both club and keys, myself, my ward, I yield
.
E’en gates and all, my lord himself, submit and seek your shield.”
The Queen smiled happily; she loved such eulogies; and she loved this particularly because it had been designed by her Robert.
As the company passed through the castle gates, Robert saw, for the first time, one in that company who made his heart leap with sudden pleasure.
Lettice Knollys had come to Kenilworth.
Robert conducted the
Queen to her chamber. Through the windows she could see the fireworks which made a good display in the Park, a sign to the countryside that the Queen had come to Kenilworth. At intervals the guns boomed forth. It was as though a King entertained a Queen. And that was how Elizabeth would have it.
“Robert,” she said, “you are a lavish spender.”
“Who could spend too lavishly in the entertainment of Your Majesty?”
She gave him the familiar tap on the cheek, thinking: Age cannot take his charm from him. It is there just as it was in the days of his flaming youth; and now he is a subtler man, and I doubt not many would love him still; yet he has remained unmarried for my sake.
“I shall remember my stay in Kenilworth to the end of my days,” she said. Then, to hide her emotion, added: “The clock there has stopped.”
He smiled. “All clocks in the Castle were stopped the moment Your Majesty entered.”
She “pupped” her lips and raised her eyebrows.
“Time stands still for goddesses,” he said.
That was a nice touch and typical of Robert.
He took her hand and kissed it. “You have promised to rest here for twelve days. During that time we will forget clocks. We will forget all but the entertaining of Your Majesty.”
“There was never one like you … never!” she said tenderly.
“Madam,” he answered, “a goddess might lose her Mutton and her
Bellwether, her attendant Moor, and even her Spirit; but her Eyes do her better service than any of these.”
“Mayhap there’s truth in that,” she said. “Now leave me, Robin. I am tired with the day’s journey.”
He bowed over her hand and raised it to his lips.
She was smiling affectionately after he had gone.
In a corridor
he came face to face with Lettice, and he knew that she had waylaid him. She was more beautiful than she had been in those days when he had first attracted her. She was no longer Lady Hereford, for her husband had been made Earl of Essex. She seemed bolder, and because of that faint resemblance to the Queen which came from her grandmother, Mary Boleyn, she reminded him of the young Elizabeth whom he had known in the Tower of London.
“A merry day to you, my lord,” she said.
“I knew not that you would come.”
“You remember me?”
“Remember! I do indeed.”
“I am honored. So the great Earl of Leicester forgets me not! The most honored man in the realm—by the Queen if not by the people—does not forget a humble woman on whom he once looked without disfavor.” Her eyes flashed angrily. She was reminding him that he had dropped her while their affair had still promised much enjoyment to them both.
“How could a man look with disfavor on one so beautiful?” he asked.
“He might if his mistress commanded him to do so … if he were so much her creature that he dared do no other.”
“I am no one’s creature!” he retorted haughtily.
She came nearer and lifted her brown eyes to his face. “Then you have changed, my lord,” she mocked.
Robert was never at a loss. He could not with any credit to himself explain his neglect in words, so he embraced her and kissed her. Such kisses were more adequate than any words could have been.
Douglass came to
his apartment, bringing her boy with her. Poor Douglass! She felt that their son might appeal to his affections, even if she could not.
He dismissed his servants, trusting he could rely on their loyalty.
“It was foolish of you to come here,” he burst out when they were alone.
“But, Robert, it is so long since I saw you. The boy so longed to see you.”
He lifted the boy in his arms. It seemed to him dangerously obvious that this little Robert had the Dudley looks. The child smiled and put his arms about Robert’s neck. He loved this handsome glittering man, although he did not know that he was his father.
“Well, my boy. What have you to say to me?”
“This is a big castle,” said the boy.
“And you like it, eh?”
The boy nodded, staring in fascination at his father’s face.
“Mamma says that it is Kenilworth.”
Had she said: “You are the rightful heir to Kenilworth!” No! she would not dare.
He held the boy against him. For the sake of this child he was almost ready to acknowledge Douglass as his wife. He would have been proud to have taken young Robert by the hand and introduce him to the company. “Behold my son!” What consternation those words would cause.
The Queen would never forgive him; and indeed, he was weary of this boy’s mother. Her meek compliance and her suppressed hysteria reminded him uncomfortably of Amy. Why could not these women fall out of love as easily as he could?
Lettice was a different kind of woman; and Lettice too had a fine son. She had called him Robert. Was that in memory of Robert Dudley? This boy of hers, now eight years old, was of outstanding beauty. Why should Lettice not give him sons?
He thought of their embrace in the corridor. They were two experienced
people, he and Lettice; she could give him much that he had hoped for all his life, and which, because of the Queen, he had missed: pleasure, children, and family life.
Lettice had a husband. Robert shrugged his shoulders. Then he looked at Douglass, who was watching him closely, and it seemed to him that he heard the mocking laughter of Amy Robsart in that room.
He said angrily: “Have a care! This is a great indiscretion. If the Queen should discover aught, this might not only be the end of me but of you.”
She fell down onto her knees and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Robert, I will take care. I promise you … she shall not know.”
“You should never have come here,” he reproved her.
But the boy, seeing his mother’s distress, began to cry, and, picking him up to comfort him, Robert thought: If his mother were another woman—not one of whom I am heartily tired—if she were Lettice, I believe I would marry her for the sake of this boy.