“But all he had done was go out with this wild party! And he was not even with the group who killed the gamekeeper!”
“The King was in no mood for trials. The Dacres had offended him. And so … His Majesty decided to be rid of this one. Dacre was not the only one, I swear. There were others.”
I was very distressed. I said: “I do not wish to hear of them.”
Jane nodded. She knew me well. It had ever been my way to put aside that which disturbed me.
It was just before we left on our journey that the Duchess came to me.
“I have to tell you,” she said, “that Francis Derham is back in England.”
I must have shown how shocked I was.
She went on: “He has been to see me. What a handsome young man he is! He is more handsome than ever. A real man. He was such a delightful boy.”
“He is back in your household?” I asked fearfully.
“No. He has had adventures. What he was doing in Ireland, I can only guess. He was determined to make a fortune and come back and marry you.”
I was trembling and desperately trying to forget that part of my life, and now it seemed that it was coming back to haunt me. Henry Manox was now one of my musicians. I had seen him from afar, and I had felt a twinge of disquiet, although his manner had appeared to be most respectful.
Derham was a different matter. I remembered his passionate insistence that he would come back and marry me. He had said we were husband and wife. He called me wife; I called him husband: and we were as such.
I experienced a moment of horror. They were all coming back: Manox, Joan Bulmer, Katherine Tylney and now … Derham.
My grandmother could guess at my fear.
She said: “Derham is a gentleman. He would never harm you. He would protect you if the need arose. You must have no fear of Derham.”
I clutched at that belief. It was true. He had genuinely loved me. I knew in my heart that he would never harm me. I had nothing to fear from him. A great relief swept over me at the thought.
“Why did he come to see you?” I asked.
“Because he knew me for a friend. He is a good young man, he has done well in Ireland. Oh, what a reckless fellow! There is something of the pirate in him. Indeed, I fancy he might well have been engaged in something just outside the law.”
“Piracy?” I said.
“I know nothing.” She laughed. She had always had a weakness for handsome young men, especially those who flattered her.
“He talked of you,” she went on.
“What said he?”
“That you were beautiful and that he knew of none to compare with you. He said you had had some regard for him. The King is not a young man. He thought that, if the King died, it would be his turn, and it could be just as you and he had once planned.”
I had grown up a little and I realized, if she did not, the importance of what she was saying. I looked at her in horror.
“You have not said that in the hearing of anyone, I hope.”
“Do you think I should be so foolish as that? I am telling you … and you only.”
“It could cost him his head,” I cried, thinking fleetingly of Lord Dacre, who had lost his for a murder he had not committed.
“You can be assured I shall say nothing of the sort to any. One must never mention that a king could go the way the rest of us do.”
She laughed. She was reckless, I thought. God preserve her. I had been reckless, too, but how was I to have known that I should one day be Queen of England?
Secret Lovers
IT WAS JULY when we set out. It was not a very happy journey. The King was in an ill mood, because the knowledge that some of his subjects could revolt against him depressed him. He wanted jubilation and expressions of affection wherever he went. In his youth he had been handsome, strong, in sports excelling all others: now it was obvious to everyone that he was no longer so. He often needed a stick to support him, or an arm to lean on. His leg was often painful, and I believed it was most unsightly beneath the bandages. He had lost his once healthy color and his skin was tinged purple, his face bloated. It was small wonder that he needed a young wife to delude him into thinking he himself was young too. That was my task, and I believed I performed it well. I might have been unlearned, far from agile with the pen, in complete ignorance of the classics, but I did understand the physical needs of men, and I was able to partake in these exercises with an acceptable skill. He told me that, while God had seen fit to plague him with some miserable and ungrateful subjects, he had at least blessed him with a good and loving wife.
There was heavy rain in Lincolnshire, which resulted in heavy flooding. Travel was impossible for two or more weeks. This delayed our journey and all through the month of July we made very little progress.
It was late August when we arrived in Pontefract. Henry was eager to meet the King of Scotland, which was the main reason for the journey. I had been rather depressed by the reception we had received on the way. There had been lavish entertainments for us, and rich gifts for the King, but I guessed this was due rather to fear than affection.
Henry was not displeased with it though. Had he not come to achieve their submission? They fêted him because they feared him, and subjects should firstly be in awe of their King.
Because of the delays, he had gone off ahead to York with a few important men in the company, and I stayed behind in Pontefract.
It was here that I received a visitor.
I stared in amazement when Jane Rochford brought him in to me.
“Francis!” I cried.
He bowed low. It was Derham.
I was overcome with mixed emotions. This was due to the sight of him, as handsome as ever, a little more distinguished. He had grown older. He had had stirring adventures, I was sure. He was indeed a man.
I noticed Jane lurking by the door, her eyes alight with excitement, and I said: “You may leave us, Lady Rochford.”
With a disappointed and reproachful look, she obeyed.
Derham said: “Your Majesty is well, I perceive … and more beautiful than ever.”
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“Craving the indulgence of Your Majesty, and begging her to tell me in what way I can serve her best.”
“You should not have come here.”
“Where else can I serve Your Majesty? I have heard that Mistress Bulmer is in your service with Mistress Tylney, and Henry Manox has joined the musicians. You are surrounded by old friends, so I thought I could serve as her secretary. She will have need of those whom she can trust to serve her well.”
He was appealing; he was very handsome, and I could believe that the love he had once borne me still existed. I could hear my grandmother’s words. He would always serve me, he would always love me. I believed she was right. He would always act for my good. Sometimes I felt lost in this Court. It seemed that people were watching for me to make mistakes—I fancied some of them looked at me critically, though they dared not put their feelings into words. Yes, it would be good to trust those around me: and I could trust Francis Derham.
Playing for time, I said: “You have had adventures since we last met.”
“Many,” he replied.
“Did you make your fortune?”
“To some extent.”
“Breaking the law?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It is not always easy to keep within it.”
“On the high seas?”