Philippa Gregory 3-Book Tudor Collection 2 Read online

  He returned to his seat. ‘Leaving aside her piety, as I said, it is the position she puts us in with her husband that concerns me.’

  Lizzie waited.

  ‘She has to go,’ he said simply. ‘While I thought we were doing him a favour by having her here, protecting her from slander and scorn, awaiting his instructions, she was an asset to us. I thought he would be glad that she had found safe haven. I thought he would be grateful to me. But now I think different.’

  She raised her head to look at him. He was her younger brother and she was accustomed to seeing him in two contradictory lights: one as her junior, who knew less of the world than she did; and the other as her superior: the head of the family, a man of property, a step above her on the chain that led to God.

  ‘And what do you think now, brother?’

  ‘I think he has cast her off,’ he said simply. ‘I think she has refused his wish, and angered him, and she will not see him again. And, what is more important, whoever she stays with will not see him again. We are not helping him with a knotty problem, we are aiding and abetting her rebellion against him. And I cannot be seen to do such a thing.’

  ‘She is his wife,’ Lizzie said flatly. ‘And she has done nothing wrong. She is not rebelling, she is just refusing to be cast aside.’

  ‘I can’t help that,’ William said. ‘He is now living as husband in all but name to the Queen of England. Lady Dudley is an obstacle to their happiness. I will not be head of a household where the obstacle to the happiness of the Queen of England finds refuge.’

  There was nothing she could say to fault his logic and he had forbidden her to appeal to his heart. ‘But what is she to do?’

  ‘She has to go to another house.’

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘To another, and to another, and to another, until she can agree with Sir Robert and make some settlement, and find a permanent home.’

  ‘You mean until she is forced into a divorce and goes to some foreign convent, or until she dies of heartbreak.’

  He sighed. ‘Sister, there is no need to play a tragedy out of this.’

  She faced him. ‘I am not playing a tragedy. This is tragic.’

  ‘This is not my fault!’ he exclaimed in sudden impatience. ‘There is no need to blame me for this. I am stuck with the difficulty but it is none of my making!’

  ‘Whose fault is it then?’ she demanded.

  He said the cruellest thing: ‘Hers. And so she has to leave.’

  Cecil had three meetings with Elizabeth before she could be brought even to listen to him without interrupting and raging at him. The first two were with Dudley and a couple of other men in attendance, and Cecil had to bow his head while she tore into him, complained of his inattention to her business, of his neglect of his country, of his disregard for their pride, their rights, their finances. After the first meeting he did not try to defend himself, but wondered whose voice it was that came so shrilly from the queen’s reproachful mouth.

  He knew it was Robert Dudley’s. Robert Dudley, of course; who stood back by the window, leaning against the shutter, looking down into the midsummer garden, and sniffed a pomander held to his nose with one slim white hand. Now and again he would shift his position, or breathe in lightly, or clear his throat, and at once the queen would break off and turn, as if to give way to him. If Robert Dudley had so much as a passing thought she assumed they would all be eager to hear it.

  — She adores him — Cecil thought, hardly hearing the detail of the queen’s complaints. — She is in her first flush of love, and he is the first love of her womanhood. She thinks the sun shines from his eyes, his opinions are the only wisdom she can hear, his voice the only speech, his smile her only pleasure. It is pointless to complain, it is pointless to be angry with her folly. She is a young woman in the madness of first love and it is hopeless expecting her to exercise any kind of sensible judgement. —

  The third meeting, Cecil found the queen alone but for Sir Nicholas Bacon and two ladies in attendance. ‘Sir Robert has been delayed,’ she said.

  ‘Let us start without him,’ Sir Nicholas smoothly suggested. ‘Lord Secretary, you were going through the terms of the treaty, and the detail of the French withdrawal.’

  Cecil nodded and put his papers before them. For the first time the queen did not spring to her feet and stride away from the table, railing against him. She kept her seat and she looked carefully at the proposal for the French withdrawal.

  Emboldened, Cecil ran through the terms of the treaty again, and then sat back in his chair.

  ‘And do you really think it is a binding peace?’ Elizabeth asked.

  For a moment, it was as it had always been between the two of them. The young woman looked to the older man for his advice, trusting that he would serve her with absolute fidelity. The older man looked down into the little face of his pupil and saw her wisdom and her ability. Cecil had a sense of the world returning to its proper axis, of the stars recoiling to their courses, of the faint harmony of the spheres, of homecoming.

  ‘I do,’ he said. ‘They were much alarmed by the Protestant uprising in Paris, they will not want to risk any other ventures for now. They fear the rise of the Huguenots, they fear your influence. They believe that you will defend Protestants wherever they are, as you did in Scotland, and they think that Protestants will look to you. They will want to keep the peace, I am sure. And Mary, Queen of Scots, will not take up her inheritance in Scotland while she can live in Paris. She will put in another regent and command him to deal fairly with the Scots lords, according to the terms of the peace contract. They will keep Scotland in name only.’

  ‘And Calais?’ the queen demanded jealously.

  ‘Calais is, and always has been, a separate issue,’ he said steadily. ‘As we have all always known. But I think we should demand it back under the terms of the treaty of Cateau Cambresis, when their lease falls due, as agreed. And they are more likely to honour the agreement now than before. They have learned to fear us. We have surprised them, Your Grace, they did not think we had the resolve. They will not laugh at us again. They certainly will not lightly make war on you again.’

  She nodded, and pushed the treaty towards him. ‘Good,’ she said shortly. ‘You swear it was the very best you could do?’

  ‘I was pleased to get so much.’

  She nodded. ‘Thank God we are free from the threat of them. I wouldn’t like to go through this past year again.’

  ‘Nor I,’ said Sir Nicholas fervently. ‘It was a great gamble when you took us into war, Your Majesty. A brilliant decision.’

  Elizabeth had the grace to smile at Cecil. ‘I was very brave and very determined,’ she said, twinkling at him. ‘Don’t you think so, Spirit?’

  ‘I am sure that if England ever again faces such an enemy, you will remember this time,’ he said. ‘You will have learned what to do for the next time. You have learned how to play the king.’

  ‘Mary never did so much,’ she reminded him. ‘She never had to face an invasion from a foreign power.’

  ‘No, indeed,’ he agreed. ‘Her mettle was not tested as yours has been. And you were tested and not found wanting. You were your father’s daughter and you have earned the peace.’

  She rose from the table. ‘I can’t think what is keeping Sir Robert,’ she complained. ‘He promised me he would be here an hour ago. He has a new delivery of Barbary horses and he had to be there to see them arrive in case they had to be sent back. But he promised me he would come at once.’

  ‘Shall we walk down to the stables to meet him?’ Cecil suggested.

  ‘Yes,’ she said eagerly. She took his arm and they walked side by side, as they had walked so often before.

  ‘Let’s take a turn in the garden first,’ he suggested. ‘The roses have been wonderful this year. D’you know, Scotland is a full month behind in the garden?’

  ‘Is it very cold and barbaric?’ she asked. ‘I wish I could see it.’

  ‘You