Philippa Gregory 3-Book Tudor Collection 2 Read online

  ‘My husband knows him well,’ Amy said without embarrassment. ‘And thinks highly of him, I know.’

  ‘Well, his mother is honouring us with a long visit,’ Mrs Forster continued, recovering. ‘You will meet her at dinner, and Mr Forster will be home for dinner. He rode out today to see some neighbours of ours. And he told me to take particular good care of you both.’

  ‘How kind,’ Amy said vaguely. ‘I think I should like to rest now.’

  ‘Certainly.’ Mrs Forster rose to her feet. ‘Your room is just above the hall, overlooking the drive.’

  Amy hesitated, she had been going to the best bedroom on the other end of the building.

  ‘Let me show you,’ Mrs Forster said, and led the way out of the great hall, through the double archway, through the stone-flagged buttery to the circular stone stairs.

  ‘Here you are, and Mrs Oddingsell is nearby,’ she said, gesturing to the two wooden doors.

  ‘It seems so odd that this should have been a monastery only fifty years ago,’ Amy said, pausing by one of the wooden corbels which showed a little cherub, polished from dark wood to blond by constant touching. ‘This little angel may have helped someone to pray.’

  ‘Thank God that we have been freed from Popish superstition,’ Mrs Forster said fervently.

  ‘Amen,’ Lizzie said smartly.

  Amy said nothing at all; but touched the cheek of the little angel, and opened the heavy wooden door to her chamber and went in.

  They waited until the door had closed behind her.

  ‘She is so pale, is she ill?’ Mrs Forster demanded.

  They turned and went to Lizzie Oddingsell’s chamber. ‘She is very tired,’ Lizzie said. ‘And she hardly eats. She complains of a pain in her breast but she says it is heartache. She is taking it all very badly.’

  ‘I heard she had a canker of the breast?’

  ‘She is always in pain but there is no growth. That is another London rumour, like all the others.’

  Mrs Forster pursed her lips and shook her head at London rumours, which were wilder and more detailed every day. ‘Well, God protect her,’ Mrs Forster said. ‘I had the devil’s own job to persuade my husband to have her here at all. Of all the men in the world I would have thought him the most likely to pity her, but he said to my face that it was more than his life was worth to offend Sir Robert now, and more important than anything in the world to him to be in his lordship’s good books if he is going to rise as everyone says.’

  ‘And what do they say?’ Lizzie prompted. ‘How much higher can he go?’

  ‘They say he will be king-consort,’ Mrs Forster said simply. ‘They say he is married to the queen already in secret, and will be crowned at Christmas. And she, poor lady, will be forgotten.’

  ‘Yes, but forgotten where?’ Lizzie demanded. ‘My brother will not have her back, and she cannot live at Stanfield Hall all the year round, it is little more than a farm. Besides, I do not know that their doors are open to her. If her family refuse her, where is she to go? What is she to do?’

  ‘She looks as if she will not survive it,’ Mrs Forster said flatly. ‘And there will be the solution to his lordship’s difficulty. Should we get a doctor for her?’

  ‘Yes,’ Lizzie said. ‘There’s no doubt in my mind that she is sick of grief, but perhaps a doctor could give her something so that at least she could eat and sleep and stop this continual weeping.’

  ‘She cries?’

  Lizzie’s own voice trembled. ‘She swallows it down during the day, but if you ever listen to her chamber door at night you will hear her. She cries in her sleep. All night long the tears run down her cheeks and she cries for him. She whispers his name in her sleep. Over and over she asks him: “My Lord”?’

  Cecil and Elizabeth were in the rose garden at Windsor with the ladies of the court when Robert Dudley came to join them, the Spanish ambassador with him.

  Elizabeth smiled and gave de Quadra her hand to kiss. ‘And is this visit one of pleasure or one of business?’ she asked.

  ‘Now I am dedicated to pleasure,’ he said in his strong accent. ‘I have conducted my business with Sir Robert and I can spend the rest of my time taking pleasure in your company.’

  Elizabeth raised her pencilled eyebrows. ‘Business?’ she asked Robert.

  He nodded. ‘All done. I was telling the Spanish ambassador that we are to have a tennis tournament this evening, and he would be most interested to watch.’

  ‘It is only a little game,’ Elizabeth said. She did not dare glance towards Cecil. ‘Some of the young men of the court have formed themselves into teams, the Queen’s Men and the Gypsy’s Men.’ There was a ripple of laughter from the ladies at the two names.

  The Spanish ambassador smiled, looking from one to another. ‘And who are the Gypsy Boys?’ he asked.

  ‘It is an impertinence to Sir Robert,’ the queen said. ‘It is a nickname they call him.’

  ‘Never to my face,’ Sir Robert said.

  ‘An insult?’ the more formal Spaniard asked.

  ‘A jest,’ Robert said. ‘Not everyone admires my colouring. I am thought too dark for an Englishman.’

  Elizabeth took a little breath of desire, it was unmistakable. Everyone heard it and Dudley turned to her with a most intimate smile. ‘Fortunately, not everyone despises me for my dark skin and black eyes,’ he said.

  ‘They are practising now.’ Elizabeth was unable to take her eyes from the curve of his mouth.

  ‘Shall we go and see?’ Cecil intervened. He led the ambassador away and the rest of the court followed. Slowly, Dudley offered Elizabeth his arm and she slid her hand on his sleeve.

  ‘You look entranced,’ he said quietly to her.

  ‘I am,’ she said. ‘You know.’

  ‘I know.’

  They walked for a few paces in silence. ‘What did the ambassador want?’ she asked.

  ‘He was complaining about Spanish gold being shipped out of the Netherlands by our merchants,’ Dudley said. ‘It is illegal to take their bullion out of the country.’

  ‘I know that,’ she said. ‘I don’t know who would do such a thing.’

  Blandly, he ignored the quickness of her lie. ‘Some eager inspector searched one of our ships and found that the cargo manifest was forged. They have confiscated the gold and let the ship go, and the Spanish ambassador was to make a formal complaint.’

  ‘Is he to come before the Privy Council?’ she asked, alarmed. ‘If they discover we are shipping gold they will know it is to mint new coins. There will be a run against the old coins. I will have to speak to Cecil, we have to keep this secret.’ She started forward but Robert retained her hand and kept her back.

  ‘No, of course he can’t see the Privy Council,’ Robert said decisively. ‘It has to be kept private.’

  ‘Have you given him a time to see me and Cecil?’

  ‘I have dealt with it,’ Robert said simply.

  Elizabeth paused on the path, the sun very hot on the back of her neck. ‘You’ve done what?’

  ‘I dealt with it,’ he repeated. ‘Told him that there must have been a mistake, I condemned smuggling as a general rule, I agreed that smuggling bullion from one country to another is most dangerous for trade. I promised him it would not happen again and said that I would look into it personally. He believed half of it, at the most, but will send his despatch to the Spanish emperor, and we are all satisfied.’

  She hesitated, suddenly cold despite the heat of the day. ‘Robert, on what basis did he speak to you?’

  He pretended not to understand her. ‘As I have said.’

  ‘Why did he speak to you? Why not take this complaint to Cecil? Or come direct to me? Or ask to meet with the Privy Council?’

  Robert slid his arm around her waist, though anyone of the court glancing back could have seen him holding her. ‘Because I want to take trouble from your shoulders, my love. Because I know as much about kingship as you, or Cecil, and to tell the truth, probably more. Becau