Philippa Gregory 3-Book Tudor Collection 2 Read online

  ‘Walk with me,’ Robert commanded his lover. ‘I must talk with you alone.’

  ‘She cannot,’ Cecil ruled. ‘She looks too guilty already. She can’t be seen whispering with a man suspected of murdering an innocent wife.’

  Abruptly, Robert bowed to Elizabeth and left the room.

  ‘Good God, Cecil, they won’t blame me, will they?’ she demanded.

  ‘Not if you are seen to distance yourself from him.’

  ‘And if they find that she was murdered, and think that he did it?’

  ‘Then he will have to stand trial, and if guilty, face execution.’

  ‘He cannot die!’ she exclaimed. ‘I cannot live without him. You know I cannot live without him! All this will be a disaster if it comes to that.’

  ‘You could always give him a pardon,’ he said calmly. ‘If it comes to that. But it won’t. I can assure you, they will not find him guilty. I doubt that there is any evidence to link him to the crime, except his own indiscretion and the general belief that he wanted his wife dead.’

  ‘He looked heartbroken,’ she said pitifully.

  ‘He did indeed. He will take it hard, he is a very proud man.’

  ‘I cannot bear that he should be so distressed.’

  ‘It cannot be helped,’ Cecil said cheerfully. ‘Whatever happens next, whatever the inquest rules, his pride will be thrown down and he will always be known as the man who broke his wife’s neck in the vain attempt to be king.’

  At Abingdon the jury was sworn in and started to hear the evidence about the death of Lady Amy Dudley. They heard that she insisted on everyone going to the fair so that she was left alone in the house. They heard that she was found dead at the foot of the small flight of stairs. The servants attested that her hood was tidy on her head, and her skirts pulled down, before they had picked her up and carried her to her bed.

  In the pretty Dairy House at Kew, Robert ordered his mourning clothes but could hardly bear to stand still as the man fitted them.

  ‘Where is Jones?’ he demanded. ‘He is much quicker than this.’

  ‘Mr Jones couldn’t come.’ The man sat back on his heels and spoke, his mouth full of pins. ‘He said to send you his apologies. I am his assistant.’

  ‘My tailor did not come when I sent for him?’ Robert repeated, as if he could not believe the words. ‘My own tailor refused to serve me?’ — Dear God, they must think me halfway to the Tower again; if not even my tailor is troubled for my custom, then they must think me halfway to the scaffold for murder. —

  ‘Sir, please let me pin this,’ the man said.

  ‘Leave it,’ Robert said irritably. ‘Take another coat, an old coat, and make it to the same pattern. I cannot bear to stand and have you pin that damned crow colour all over me. And you can tell Jones that when I next need a dozen new suits I shall remember that he did not attend me today.’

  Impatiently, he threw off the half-fitted jacket and strode across the little room in two strides.

  — Two days and not a word from her — he thought. — She must think I did it. She must think me so wicked as to do such a thing. She must think me a man who would murder an innocent wife. Why would she want to marry such a man? And all the time there will be those very quick to assure her that it is just the sort of man I am. —

  He broke off.

  — But if she were accused, I would go to her side — he thought. — I would not care whether she were guilty or no. I couldn’t bear knowing that she was alone and frightened and feeling that she had not a friend in the world.

  — And she knows that of me too. She knows that I have been accused before. She knows that I have faced a death verdict without a friend in the world. We promised each other that we would neither of us ever be so alone again. —

  He paused by the window; the cold glass under his fingers sent a deep shiver through him, though he did not remember why it should be such a dreadful sensation.

  ‘Dear God,’ he said aloud. ‘Much more of this and I shall be carving my crest into the chimneypiece as I did with my brothers in the Tower. I have come so low again. So low, again.’

  He leaned his forehead against the glass when a movement on the river caught his eye. He shaded his face against the thick glass to see more clearly. It was a barge with the drummer beating to keep the rowers in time. He squinted his eyes, he made out the flag, the royal standard. It was the royal barge.

  ‘Oh, God, she has come!’ he said. At once he could feel his heart pounding. — I knew she would come. I knew she would never leave me, whatever it cost her, whatever the danger, we would face it down together. I knew she would be at my side, always. I knew she would be faithful. I knew she would love me. I never doubted her for a moment. —

  He tore open the door and ran from the room, through the river entrance and into the pretty orchard where he had given Elizabeth her May Day breakfast only sixteen months ago.

  ‘Elizabeth!’ he shouted, and ran through the orchard towards the landing stage.

  It was the royal barge; but it was not Elizabeth getting out of the barge to the landing stage. Dudley halted, suddenly sick with disappointment.

  ‘Oh, Cecil,’ he said.

  William Cecil came down the wooden steps towards him and held out his hand. ‘There,’ he said kindly. ‘Never mind. She sent her best wishes.’

  ‘You have not come to arrest me?’

  ‘Good God, no,’ Cecil said. ‘This is a courtesy visit, to bring you the queen’s best wishes.’

  ‘Her best wishes?’ Robert said brokenly. ‘Is that all?’

  Cecil nodded. ‘She can’t say more, you know that.’

  The two men turned and walked to the house.

  ‘You are the only man to come to see me from the court,’ Robert said as they entered the house, their boots ringing on the wooden floor in the silence. ‘Think of that! Of all my hundreds of friends and admirers that flocked around me every day when I was at the very centre of the court, of all the thousands of them who were proud to call me their friend, who claimed my acquaintanceship even when I hardly knew them … and you are the only visitor I have had here.’

  ‘It’s a fickle world,’ Cecil agreed. ‘And true friends are few and far between.’

  ‘Far between? Not for me, since I have no true friends at all, I see. You are my only friend, as it turns out,’ Dudley said wryly. ‘And I would not have given you good odds a mere month ago.’

  Cecil smiled. ‘Well, I am sorry to see you brought so low,’ he said frankly. ‘And sorry to find you with such a heavy heart fitting your mourning clothes. Do you have any news from Abingdon?’

  ‘I daresay you know more than me,’ Robert said, conscious of Cecil’s formidable spy network. ‘But I have written to Amy’s half-brother and asked him to go and make sure the jury do their best to discover the facts, and I have written to the foreman of the jury and begged him to name whoever did it, whoever it may be, without fear or favour. I want the truth to come out of this.’

  ‘You insist on knowing?’

  ‘Cecil, it is not me, so who? It’s easy enough for everyone else to think it murder and me with blood on my hands. But I know, as no-one else can know, that I did not do it. So if I did not do it, who would do such a thing? Whose interest would be served by her death?’

  ‘You don’t think it was an accident?’ Cecil inquired.

  Robert gave a brief laugh. ‘Good God, I wish I could think that, but how could it be? Such a short flight of stairs, and her sending everyone out for the day? My worst, my constant fear is that she harmed herself, that she took some poison or a sleeping draught and then threw herself down the stairs head first, to make it look like an accident.’

  ‘Do you think she was so unhappy that she would have killed herself? I thought her more pious than that? Surely she would never imperil her immortal soul, even if she were heartbroken?’

  Robert dropped his head. ‘God forgive me, it was I who broke her heart,’ he said quietly. ‘And if she did