The Virgin's Lover ttc-4 Read online

  “Yes?” Cecil asked.

  “She wants him to negotiate a peace with the French,” Laetitia remarked.

  Cecil hid his shock. “Are you sure?”

  “I am sure that she asked him.” The young woman shrugged her slim shoulders. “I am sure that he said he would see what he could do. Whether she is of the same mind now, I couldn’t say. That was this morning and now it is past noon. When does she ever stay in the same mind for more than two hours?”

  “On what terms?” Cecil asked, ignoring Laetitia’s impertinence.

  “That they can have Scotland if they will return Calais, and take her coat of arms from the Queen of Scots.”

  Cecil compressed his lips on any comment.

  “I thought you wouldn’t like it.” Laetitia smiled. “A whole country in exchange for a city. Sometimes she acts as if she is going quite mad. She was crying and clinging to him and asking him to save England for her.”

  Oh God, and in front of a girl like you who would tell anyone. “And he said?”

  “What he always says: that she is not to fear, that he will care for her, that he will arrange everything.”

  “He promised nothing specific? Nothing at once?”

  She smiled again. “He’s too clever for that. He knows she’ll change her mind in a moment.”

  “You were right to come and tell me,” Cecil said. He reached into the drawer of the desk and, judging by touch, drew out one of the heavier purses. “For a gown.”

  “I thank you. It’s extraordinarily expensive, being the best-dressed woman at court.”

  “Does the queen not give you her old gowns?” he asked, momentarily curious.

  Laetitia gleamed at him. “D’you think she’d risk a comparison?” she asked mischieviously. “When she can’t live without Robert Dudley? When she can’t bear him even to glance at another woman? I wouldn’t put me in one of her old gowns if I was her. I wouldn’t beg the comparison.”

  Cecil, at the head of his spy ring, gathering gossip about the queen, hearing rumors that half the country thought her married to Dudley already and the other half thought her dishonored, gathered threatening whispers against the pair as a spider collects the threads of its web and lays its long legs along them, alert for any tremor. He knew that there were tens of men who threatened to drag Dudley to his death, and swore to knife him, hundreds who said they would help, and thousands who would see it happen and not lift a finger to defend him.

  Please God someone does it, and soon, and brings an end to this, Cecil whispered to himself, watching Elizabeth and Dudley dining in her rooms before half the court, but whispering together as if they were quite alone, his hand on her leg underneath the table, her eyes fixed on his.

  But even Cecil knew that Elizabeth could not rule without Dudley at her side. At this stage in her life—so young and surrounded by so many dangers—she had to have a friend. And although Cecil was willing to be at her side night and day, Elizabeth wanted a confidant: heart and soul. Only a man besottedly in love with her could satisfy Elizabeth’s hunger for reassurance; only a man publicly betraying his wife every moment of every day could satisfy Elizabeth’s ravenous vanity.

  “Sir Robert.” Cecil bowed to Dudley as the younger man stepped down from the dais at the end of dinner.

  “I am just going to command the musicians, the queen wants to hear a tune I have composed for her,” Sir Robert said negligently, unwilling to pause.

  “Then I won’t detain you,” Cecil said. “Has the queen spoken to you about a peace with France at all?”

  Dudley smiled. “Not to any effect,” he said. “We both know, sir, that it cannot be. I let her talk, it eases her fears, and then later I explain it to her.”

  “I am relieved,” Cecil said politely. You explain, do you? When you and yours know nothing but double-dealing and treason! “Now, Sir Robert, I was drawing up a list of ambassadors to the courts of Europe. I thought we should have some fresh faces, once this war is won. I wondered if you would like to visit France? We could do with a trustworthy man in Paris and Sir Nicholas would like to come home.” He paused. “We would need a man to reconcile them to defeat. And if any man could turn the head of the Queen of France, and seduce her from her duty, it would be you.”

  Robert ignored the ambiguous compliment. “Have you spoken to the queen?”

  No, Cecil thought, For I know what the answer would be. She cannot let you out of her sight. But if I can persuade you, then you would persuade her. And I could do with a handsome rogue like you to flirt with Mary, Queen of Scots, and spy for us. Aloud, he said: “Not yet. I thought I would ask if it pleased you first.”

  Sir Robert gave his most seductive smile. “I think it may not,” he said. “Between the two of us, Sir William, I think that by this time next year I will have another task in the kingdom.”

  “Oh?” Cecil said. What does he mean? he thought rapidly. He cannot mean my post? Does she mean to give him Ireland? Or, dear God, she would never put this puppy in charge of the north?

  Sir Robert laughed delightedly at Cecil’s puzzled face. “I think you will find me in a very great position,” he said quietly. “Perhaps the greatest in the land, Master Secretary; do you understand me? And if you stand my friend now, I will be your friend then. Do you understand me now?”

  And Cecil felt that he lost his balance, as if the floor had opened like a chasm beneath his feet. Finally, he did understand Sir Robert. “You think she will marry you?” he whispered.

  Robert smiled, a young man in the confidence of his love. “For certain. If someone doesn’t kill me first.”

  Cecil delayed him with a touch to his sleeve. “You mean this? You have asked her and she has agreed?” Stay calm, she never agrees to marriage and means it. She never gives her word and keeps it.

  “She asked me herself. It is agreed between us. She cannot bear the burden of the kingdom alone, and I love her and she loves me.” For a moment the blaze of the Dudley ambition was softened in Robert’s face. “I do love her, you know, Cecil. More than you can imagine. I will make her happy. I will devote my life to making her happy.”

  Aye, but it is not a matter of love, Cecil thought miserably. She is not a milkmaid; you are not a shepherd boy. You are neither of you free to marry for love. She is Queen of England and you are a married man. If she goes on this way she will be queen in exile and you will be beheaded. Aloud he said: “Is it firmly agreed between you?”

  “Only death can stop us.” Dudley smiled.

  “Will you come for a ride?” Lizzie Oddingsell invited Amy. “The daffodils are out by the river and they are a beautiful sight. I thought we could ride down and pick some.”

  “I’m tired,” Amy said faintly.

  “You’ve not been out for days,” Lizzie said.

  Amy found a thin smile. “I know, I am a very dull guest.”

  “It’s not that! My brother is concerned for your health. Would you like to see our family physician?”

  Amy put out her hand to her friend. “You know what is wrong with me. You know that there is no cure. Have you heard anything from the court?”

  The guilty evasive slide of Lizzie Oddingsell’s gaze told Amy everything.

  “She is not going to marry the archduke? They are together?”

  “Amy, people are speaking of their marriage as a certainty. Alice’s cousin, who goes to court, is sure of it. Perhaps you should consider what you will do when he forces a divorce on you.”

  Amy was silent. Mrs. Oddingsell did not dare to say anything more.

  “I will talk to Father Wilson,” Amy decided.

  “Do so!” Mrs. Oddingsell said, relieved of some of the burden of caring for Amy. “Shall I send for him?”

  “I’ll walk down to the church,” Amy decided. “I’ll walk down and see him tomorrow morning.”

  The garden of the Hyde’s house backed on to the churchyard; it was a pleasant walk down the winding path through the daffodils to the lych-gate, set into the gard