In the Beauchamp Tower, Robert listened to the bell’s tolling, to the shouts of the people; and he knew that his father was dead.
TWO
At Hatfield House the Princess Elizabeth lay in her bed. She was sick, her household declared, of a malady which afflicted her from time to time. This malady never failed to come to her aid at those times when she was uncertain how to act; and there had been many occasions when, by discreetly retiring to the comparative safety of her curtained bed, she had avoided a trying situation.
Bed was obviously the place for her at this time; so, obediently the malady returned.
A courier had brought a letter to her that morning; it was from the Duke of Northumberland. Her brother, the King, was, according to the Duke’s communication, urgently desiring to see his dear sister. “Your Grace should come with all speed,” said the message, “for the King is very ill.”
But the Princess, who had always instinctively bestowed her smiles in the right quarters, was naturally not without friends. Poor as she was and mighty as was Northumberland, she was the richer in friends.
Concealed on his person, the courier had another note for the Princess. It had been sewn in his shoe for safety, and when she read it Elizabeth saw that it had been written by a certain William Cecil, a man whom she believed to be her friend. “The King is already dead,” ran the note. “It is the wish of Northumberland to place Jane Grey and his son Guildford on the throne, and to seize the persons of yourself and your sister. To obey the summons would be to place yourself in Northumberland’s hands.”
And so to bed went the Princess Elizabeth, after penning a note to the Duke regretting that she was too ill to leave Hatfield.
She was in danger. She knew it. But when had she ever been far from danger? She thought of gentle Jane Grey whom Northumberland would make Queen of England. Poor Jane! What did she think of these honors which were to be thrust upon her? Jane was learned, but what was the good of erudition if cunning did not go with it? Jane was a puppet. She would be no more Queen of England than Edward had been King. Her fate had been decided on when she had allowed Northumberland to marry her to his son Guildford. It had been obvious to Elizabeth what would follow as soon as that marriage had taken place.
Elizabeth remembered young Guildford well. He was a weakling. She, being strong, had an unerring instinct for smelling out weaklings. Now, had it been Robert …! She wanted to laugh aloud when she thought of Robert, who had married a simpering country girl. How could he have been such a fool! Yet was he such a fool? If he had not married his rustic bride he would have been married to the Lady Jane Grey. But was that such an enviable position? Only time would show. In any case Robert had no right to have married a country girl.
She laughed into her pillow, forgetting her danger, for this short moment, in her memories. What a pity Kat Ashley was not with her. What fun they would have had with the cards … telling fortunes … seeing if anything came to light concerning Robert Dudley (a tall dark man) as they used to look for Tom Seymour.
How stupid to think of Tom now. She could never think of him and that dreadful time, without a tremor. Tom was beautiful with his great booming laugh, his mighty oaths and his strong arms. Tom Seymour … nothing but a headless corpse! And he had almost taken her with him to the grave, as in life he had wished to take her with him to the throne … to the marriage bed.
Never again must she be so weak as she had been with Tom. What an escape! She might have been tempted to marriage … to love. Tom was such a tempter. No one should tempt her in that way again. A Princess who is only a step or two from the throne must learn her lessons and learn them quickly, for there is often no second chance of doing so.
Now in this moment which she felt to be full of unknown dangers she must brood on that earlier danger still so clear to her.
She could picture him distinctly. She believed she would never forget him, the jaunty Admiral in his gorgeous garments who had come to her after the death of his wife, Katharine Parr, feigning great grief. But was it real grief, when all the time his eyes were pleading with her, telling her that he was now free?
Intuitively she had felt the inclination to hold back; it had ever seemed to her that the trimmings of courtship were more enticing than any climax could be. Elizabeth, almost seduced but never quite, was a much more attractive picture to her than Elizabeth conquered. It was an Admiral to woo her whom she had wanted—not a husband to command her. Men were amusing, yet intent on one thing. Elizabeth wished to be amused, titillated, enjoying in imagination that which she had the good sense to know could never in reality compare with such dreams.
Yet there had been times when she had been on the point of surrender to that fascinating man; there had been times when his cajoling ways had almost got the better of her good sense.
She was older now; she was wiser. When he had come to woo her she had been reluctant, aloof, in no way the same girl who had romped with him during his wife’s lifetime. He had been clever in his way, but not quite clever enough. There had been so many ugly rumors connected with his name, and how could the Princess Elizabeth consent to marry a man who, it was said, had poisoned his wife that he might marry her?
No, the death of Katharine had been the first object lesson; the heartbreaking death of Thomas the second, and his had struck her so hard that it would never be forgotten.
How clear, in her memory, he was to her, as though he stood at the side of the bed now, laughing at her with passion in his eyes, trying to pull off the bedclothes as he had in Chelsea, to tickle, to slap, to kiss.
He had won Kat Ashley to his side. What had he said to Kat? Had he made light love to her with his eyes as he knew well how to do? Had he promised her rewards on the day the Princess Elizabeth became his wife? Kat was quickly his slave, as were so many of the women about their Princess. Kat began to find him a good influence in the cards … dear silly Kat! Elizabeth could hear her voice now with the trill of excitement in it. “Here is a good marriage for you, my darling; the best marriage that you could make. Now let me see, who is this husband I have here for you? He has a golden beard and he is handsome … how handsome! I believe he is connected with the sea …” Then Elizabeth would burst into laughter, and call Kat a fraud, and ask what the Admiral had given her to make her say that. They would laugh and giggle, abandoning the cards to talk of him.
She believed she had toyed with the idea. Yet had she seriously intended marriage with him? Already at that time her thoughts had soared high above him. Her brother Edward sickly, her sister Mary not very young and delicate too—and then … herself.
Was she glad that the Council would not agree to her marriage with the Admiral? When she had been asked if she would marry him her answer had been characteristic of her: “When the time comes and the Council shall give its consent, then shall I do as God puts into my mind.”
And would she have eventually married Thomas? At that time he could flatter so charmingly; he could plead so passionately.
Dear Thomas! He always talked too much. Great power had been his through his charm and beauty, and power was such a potent drug; it went to the head; it soothed the fears; it played tricks with a man’s vision until he was twice the size he was in actuality. Thomas had boasted that he had ten thousand men ready to serve him, that he had persuaded the master of the Bristol mint to coin large sums of money which should be used in his service; he would marry Elizabeth and then … all would see what they should see.
And so Thomas was taken to the Tower on a charge of high treason.
What a time of terror when Kat Ashley and Parry the cofferer were also taken to the Tower, and she herself kept prisoner at Hatfield with guards outside her door, not allowed to venture out into the grounds without an escort! How apprehensive she had been for Thomas! How she had dreaded what Kat and Parry would say in the hands of the questioners!