Jeane Westin Read online

  “But, Robert, I—”

  Lord Dudley stepped forward and lowered his voice. “Don’t be a fool, Edward. You know that I should tell Bess every word of this speech. If she thought I was involved in that which is against her will . . .”

  Edward saw Dudley swallow hard and turn his face away, but not before his expression could be easily read. Dudley did not shrink for fear of the queen’s anger, but from his love for her, a love he must know in his heart was more hopeless than Edward’s own. No sign now of the clever courtier, the charmed lord who’d escaped the ax that had taken off the heads of his father and brother. Now he was only a man denied the woman he desired above all others, his heart despairing. Still, Edward knew Dudley kept a tiny flame of hope flickering. Edward knew because he had done the same all these years.

  Yet he was not content to wait, as Dudley must. “My lord, I must beg your attention. The queen has ignored my petition. I need to know how best to proceed in my suit for Kate.”

  “Best not to proceed!” Dudley’s face showed annoyance. “You have already followed bad advice, and I expect it came from your sister, the lady Jane, who wants Kate’s place in the bedchamber.”

  “Naturally, my sister, as niece of Henry’s queen, wants her rightful place, but also my happiness, happiness that will be purchased only by marriage to my Kate. I have waited years and can wait no more.” He stood straighter and tried to make his voice proud, but he could not keep the pretense. “Robert, you must speak for us!” Edward said, all sense of civility lost as he grasped Dudley’s arm. “If Kate and I could marry, we would leave the court behind and retire to the quiet of my manor of Eltham. I have seen cities in foreign lands. I have fought in battles on sea and land. I desire nothing more than to spend my life with Kate and our children in the green country far from intrigue and court affairs of state. On my honor, we would never betray the queen.”

  Dudley pulled his arm away so quickly that Edward was rocked forward. “You fool! Others would betray your honor for you, hatching plots, naming you in letters—the lieutenant of the Tower would be building a scaffold for both of you in less than a year.” In earnest, Dudley continued: “I will forget your words, Edward, as you should.” Robert laughed bitterly. “Henry wanted a prince, and by all that’s holy, Bess has become one. Do not allow her female body to deceive you. Her head rules her.”

  Edward heard a heart aching in those words.

  “Hark to me, Edward; there is no appeal to the queen’s fear of an intrigue to take her throne.”

  “But she cannot think we—”

  “Are you so blinded by lust that you cannot understand? You both have royal blood, which makes you a threat even unmarried. That’s why she accepted you so readily at her court and keeps Kate close—to maintain an eye on both your doings. She could never tolerate the joining of both Seymour and Tudor lines with the possibility of male heirs. Think you she endured a life of almost endless fear and loneliness waiting for the throne to be hers to lose all now to her cousins?” He smoothed his doublet and settled a cap on his dark hair. “Now, my lord, excuse me to my duty as the queen’s master of horses. She will want to ride out on the morrow. Say no more to me on this matter, or by the good Lord, I’ll see your head on a pike myself.”

  Edward’s hand went to his sword. “No man threatens me—”

  But Dudley had flung himself away, his servant in the anteroom caught unready, racing to catch him.

  Edward stood silent, staring at the open door, clenching his fists, his heart thundering. If he challenged Dudley for his arrogance, many in the court would approve. As with most favorites, Robert Dudley had truer enemies than friends. But Elizabeth would be sure to send Edward Seymour to the Tower, where he would never see Kate again. He stood for a moment, quieting his breathing to somewhere near to calm.

  Though he was disappointed and angered, he knew his anger was unreasonable. In his way, Dudley was truly trying to help him. Indeed, there was too little difference in their troubles for Edward to hold resentment and, with understanding, anger flew swiftly away.

  As well, he knew Dudley’s immediate troubles: desperately opposing each foreign prince’s marriage proposal that came before the queen and her council in every way he could, knowing that a princely consort would not only erase his own hopes for marrying Elizabeth, but would also strive to separate them completely.

  But there must be a way open to Kate and him. There must be! Dudley could be wrong. Squaring his shoulders, Edward walked, head high, toward the queen’s apartments, next to Dudley’s own. He hoped to catch sight of Kate, but trumpeters and drummers were at the doors announcing the queen’s dinner. The doors opened and with a quick glance he saw Kate, surrounded by yeomen with steaming food, kneeling before an empty table. Then he heard the queen’s laughter, followed by Dudley’s. The doors closed, but not before Lady Saintloe saw him, her eyebrows raised with interest.

  He flicked dust from his doublet sleeve, all unconcerned. He was wary of her, but he would not allow it to show. She was wily and rich, having buried three husbands, and was a great gossip who loved to agitate already aroused tempers. Were she a village shrew instead of a wealthy widow, she would have long ago owned the ducking stool. He must warn Kate to have great care with that lady looking on.

  A little disheartened but trying to hold disillusion at bay, Edward made his way to his own rooms in the next hall to Dudley’s, and, finding that one of his servants had unpacked dry clothes that did not smell of Thames water, he quickly changed, was shaved and his close beard trimmed and oiled. His spirits lifted, he made his way to the great hall, aromas of game pies rising from the laden tables making his belly growl. If he could not feed his heart, for the moment he would have to nourish his stomach.

  After riding in the fresher air of the countryside and his forced swim in the Thames, he feasted heartily on quail pie with a high, crispy crust set inside a moat of gravy with a good Portuguese wine and an eggy custard to follow. He’d just risen from his stool when a groom in the royal livery found him.

  “My lord, Her Majesty commands your presence in her privy chamber.”

  Edward followed the man, smoothing his velvet doublet and adjusting his ruff as he went. He hoped for the best, but if Dudley had reported their conversation, he set himself to face her well-known temper as well as he could. Although there was little any man could do if the queen were well and truly displeased.

  He was shown into a luxurious withdrawing room with greater decoration than at Whitehall. A large, elaborate fireplace gave off heat that reached into the corners; the walls were of carved oak paneling. High windows let in the waning winter sun to illumine the ceiling with its intricate plaster decoration covering every inch. All the queen’s paintings and tapestries were hung. The rest of the palace was helter-skelter, but here everything was in perfect order. Edward knew it had taken fifty grooms supervised by her ladies to settle the queen’s belongings so quickly.

  Removing his cap, he knelt. “Your Grace, I am yours to command.” He didn’t look about him. He’d already noted that only the queen’s ladies were with her, including Kate, her eyes cast down in modesty. Dudley was not there.

  “My lord of Hertford?” Her Majesty’s voice lifted, as if she were surprised to see him.

  “You commanded my presence, Your Grace.” Edward’s tone was apologetic until he realized the queen knew very well why he was here. He would not be caught off guard and begin babbling uncalled-for excuses until he knew how much Dudley had told her, or if he had. Dudley was no fool. Bad-news messengers were rarely well received.

  “The Lord Steward has given you adequate accommodations, my lord Edward?”

  “Perfectly so, Majesty. I thank you.” He breathed deeply and kept his eyes steady on her, forbidding his face to show turmoil. She had the same slender face and changing eye color as Kate, pupils blue in light, but so large they turned a dark slate color in shadow. There was no question the same blood flowed in each.

  The quee
n was speaking: “My palace of Richmond is not so great as Whitehall, and I will be certain to hear near endless complaining. My lady Katherine Grey, for example, is not so happy, we believe, to share a room with Lady Saintloe. Yet, I think it well met when youth has the advantage of older guidance, don’t you, my lord earl?”

  Edward did not look away from the queen toward Kate, but he began to sense a cat-and-mouse game, and he was the prey.

  “I have heard it to be so, Your Grace, though I have also been well taught by the young, who have often retained an appealing innocent curiosity that is sometimes lost by age.” He said the words lightly as wit and not as a question of the queen’s judgment, since everyone at court was there at Her Majesty’s pleasure, whatever that was, or however it changed.

  The queen smiled slightly as the mouse nibbled the cheese but escaped the trap. “My lord, I see nothing of the child left in you. But I am gladdened to hear the loving boy I first saw in my brother’s court remains in the man’s heart.”

  Edward did not allow himself to breathe. She remembered earlier gossip about him and Kate, and of course the queen remembered his petition of just days ago to court her lady-in-waiting. He’d escaped the visible trap to fall into a hidden one.

  Elizabeth reached to her side table and picked up a sheet of vellum hung about with red seals and signed in her distinctive hand, Elizabeth R. “This is our letter to the French queen, asking for reasonable toleration of her Protestant subjects and protection from the excesses of the Duke de Guise’s anti-Huguenot policies. You are to deliver it to the French ambassador, presently residing in London, and then you may look to your house in Westminster on Canon Row. Stay as long as it pleases you to settle your affairs, which have surely been neglected of late. Wait there, holding yourself in readiness for our further pleasure.”

  “Thank you, Majesty. I’m most happy to have your confidence.”

  Elizabeth slipped the rolled parchment into a leather tube, sealed it and handed it to Edward, who held it against his chest.

  The queen turned to some other papers and began reading them. Edward stood and bowed his way to the antechamber. He walked swiftly to his own chamber. It was obvious that Dudley had told her something, or at the least suggested his name for this mission. Separation was supposed to be the cure for unsuitable lovers. The queen would find more than one reason to keep him in London, or on numberless missions that he could not refuse. His throat burned with angry—even treasonous—words he couldn’t help. But angry words had no power here. His legs moved stiffly, like a puppet’s, taking him away from Kate without his having looked at her or reassured her with an unspoken message.

  He exited the hall at the presence chamber, the queen’s great canopied chair being heaved onto a stage that dominated the great room. God’s bones! He’d forgotten which hall to take to his sister Jane’s rooms. He slammed a fist against the stone wall, scraping skin from his knuckles. Sucking on the sore hand, he asked a gentleman usher where Lady Jane Seymour’s rooms were located.

  He rushed to the right exit. Somehow, he must see Kate before he left. His sister could get a message to her.

  Jane was busy directing her own maids in unpacking and airing her gowns. “Edward, these rooms are smaller than at Whitehall. If I were one of the queen’s ladies—”

  “You might have to room with Lady Saintloe,” he said in a low voice.

  Jane dismissed her maids to another room and drew Edward to a settle near to the fire, waving a hand in front of her face. “This smoke from the sea coal burns my throat,” she explained, waiting for the door to close. “Edward, dear brother, are you saying that the queen has placed Lady Katherine with that gossip?”

  “Yes, and there is no way I can see her unless you help me.”

  “You know I would do anything for you, Edward, but it is terribly dangerous. Half the court knows of your love.”

  “I have told no one but you and Dudley!”

  “Edward, you have never been able to dissemble. You are compromised a dozen times each day. You can’t hide what you feel, although this urgency puzzles me.”

  “Urgency!” he growled. “You think nine years not long enough to wait? She was meant to be mine and well you know it!” Edward’s voice was more impatient than he had intended, so he sweetened his tone. “She was forced to marry Pembroke when she wanted me.”

  “But that marriage was annulled, so she is yet a virgin of the blood royal. Have a care, Edward. You know that taking an heir to the throne without the queen’s consent is treason.”

  “I lost her once, but not again. I could not count myself a man if I allowed it.”

  “You can’t go against the queen of England,” Jane said, alarmed.

  “I would give up my life’s blood for the queen, but not Kate . . . not Kate.” He bent forward and sank his face into his hands.

  Kate followed the queen in procession through the palace to a meeting of her council. Along the way, Lady Jane Seymour slipped a note inside a slash in Kate’s sleeve. She curtsied briefly and walked on, glancing hastily at Lady Saintloe, who walked behind, but appeared to be in deep conversation with Mistress Ashley.

  “My lady Grey,” the queen called when they reached the council chamber.

  “Yes, Majesty.” Kate hurried forward past the Lord Chamberlain to the queen.

  “We would have you attend us in council. It will provide you good experience.”

  Kate stiffened. It was like Elizabeth to say nothing in advance to prepare Kate. But for what? Kate kept her face blank, although the queen must surely know that her unusual request had put Kate in suspense.

  For fear the paper inside her sleeve would crackle, Kate was careful to keep her arm relaxed, one hand in the other, while holding her head high in regal attitude. Now was no time to have the queen discover secret correspondence.

  Liveried yeomen opened the door to the council chamber, the council members standing to bow as the queen walked quickly to her large upholstered chair at the near end of the table. The Lord Secretary, William Cecil, stood at the other end, his white staff of office in his hand.

  There could not be a greater contrast between ruler and servant. The queen was royally attired in bejeweled golden satin hung about with ropes of pearls, with matching embroidered slippers, her long white fingers flashing with diamonds and precious stones. William Cecil, past forty years, was dressed in somber black, befitting his strict religious, near Puritan, beliefs. He faced his young sovereign seated opposite.

  The queen smiled pleasantly. “You may acknowledge the lady Grey . . . my beloved daughter.”

  The assembled men bowed, as astonished as Kate at the thought that Elizabeth claimed to be her mother, and not in jest, nor in general, nor in private. Kate caught her breath. She had dismissed a palace rumor that the queen planned to adopt her as just wild gossip. Yet what game was this? Was it another maneuver to confuse those who urged her to marry or name an heir?

  But Kate’s overwhelming worry was what Ned’s note said.

  The queen opened the meeting. “Rest yourselves, my lords and gentlemen.” She waved her hand for them to sit. “We have here a fair copy of our letter to the French queen regarding the Huguenot troubles. The Earl of Hertford is sent to London to deliver it.”

  Kate bit down on her tongue. Was Ned already gone from Richmond? Was the note in her sleeve from him, or from Jane, saying he was gone? She dared to touch it to make sure it was still there.

  “Majesty,” Cecil spoke in his steady, unemotional voice, “we have received a petition from Parliament regarding your earlier promise to communicate your future marriage plans during this session. Your Grace, there is yet the possibility of a Hapsburg match.”

  The queen stamped one foot under the table, making an irritated pup! pup! sound with her mouth. “Better beggar woman and single, than queen and married.”

  The grim-faced council members looked to Cecil, while Cecil inclined his head, indicating he had heard.

  Yet the queen
had not completely vented her displeasure. “Is there no other business before our Parliament except our marriage? Tell the gentlemen that we will reply in good time.” Her angry voice rang throughout the chamber: “My lords, we think it monstrous that the feet do attempt to direct the head!”

  “Majesty,” Cecil intoned soothingly, “it is our given duty to advise the Crown, though I admit many think a foreign Catholic prince would rouse your Catholic subjects against the English church.”

  “Aye, Your Grace,” the Duke of Norfolk agreed, “there is concern that such a prince would put his own people in powerful court positions.”

  Since the duke was thought a secret papist, Kate thought the response deceitful.

  Elizabeth was more than angry with all of them, her face red with unexploded frustration. “And such a foreign prince would drain our treasury for his continental wars, or demand we go to Austria when he succeeds to that throne”—she inhaled deeply—“and as a wife subject to a husband’s rule, we would have to obey.” She pounded the table with her free hand. “Yet you would not have us marry an English lord for fear of offending other English lords, who would raise revolts!”

  By this time, Kate was certain she knew why she had been invited to accompany the queen. She had known in advance of Parliament’s marriage demands and planned to use Kate to calm them if necessary. Kate moved slightly toward the door, out of range of Her Majesty’s strategy.

  “My lords, there is no way we can please, so we will not seek to do so. Elizabeth of England will marry when moved to do so by God . . . not by Parliament, or a council of wavering opinion!”

  “Majesty,” Cecil said evenly, glancing at Kate, “there is a desire amongst the commons for an heir.”

  Elizabeth sat even taller in her great chair. “God will provide an heir for England when the time is right.” She glared at her councilors to see who would dare to doubt that her word came directly from God. “My lords, we think that our father was not so much reproached for his many marriages as we are for none!” The queen stopped for a much-needed breath.