It was not a secret plan, and when it reached the Queen's ears she sent for Norfolk, and those present at the meeting read in it a stern warning to Norfolk.
The Queen had said that it had come to her ears that Norfolk was eager to change his title of Duke for King.
Norfolk must have been so shaken with those big tawny eyes on him that he denied this. He stammered that the Queen of Scots was an adulteress and suspected of murder, and he was a man who liked to sleep on a safe pillow. When the Queen replied that some men might be ready to take risks for the sake of a crown, Norfolk replied that he was as good a prince in his bowling alley in Norfolk as she was in the heart of Scotland. A rather dangerous remark for the same might have been said of Elizabeth at Greenwich. He then plunged further into danger when he said that he could not marry the Queen of Scots knowing that she pretended to the crown of England, and that if he did so Queen Elizabeth might charge him with seeking the crown of England.
The Queen retorted tartly that she might well do so.
Poor foolish Norfolk! He must have signed his death warrant in that moment.
It was surprising to hear—again through visitors from the Court —that the Earl of Leicester had oddly enough forgotten the enmity between himself and Norfolk and placed himself on the Duke's side. Heaven knew what was in Robert's mind, but I grew to discover that he could be as devious as Elizabeth herself. I believe now that he was afraid Elizabeth would die—she was often ill and on several occasions since her accession her life had been believed to be in danger—and if she did, Mary Stuart would come to the throne.
Robert was a man who could appear courteous and gentle outwardly while he was planning murder. Always to the forefront of his mind would be his own advantage. While he decided to support Norfolk he told him that he would arrange a meeting with Elizabeth so that he could present the case to her.
In view of his previous conversation with the Queen, Norfolk should have known better. Elizabeth, no doubt primed by Robert, for it would be characteristic of him to place one foot in each camp, nipped Norfolk's proposition in the bud, before he was able to begin to explain the advantages of a match between himself and Mary, taking his ear between her thumb and forefinger and pinching it so hard that he flinched.
"I would wish you," she said, "to take good heed of your pillow."
She was reminding him of his observation that he liked to sleep on a safe one and telling him as clearly as she could that the one he was proposing to take would lead him to another kind of pillow—a block of wood on which he might rest his head until the ax descended to sever it from his body.
Norfolk's heart must have quailed, for he fell on his knees, vowing that he had no desire for marriage, only to serve her.
Unfortunately for him he was not speaking the truth, and as it came out afterwards when he received secret communications from the Queen of Scots, he was soon once again deep in the intrigue to marry her and rescue her from captivity.
Walter was immersed in his plans for Ulster, but when he went to Court he did hear a little of what was happening in those circles. He was disturbed because the Catholic threat to England was growing and the Queen's refusal to marry complicated it. While she lived, the country was safe for Protestantism, but if she died it could be plunged into war. He told me that ministers were constantly discussing the seriousness of a situation in which the succession was insecure, a fact which left England very vulnerable, particularly with the Queen of Scots actually in captivity in the country. Walter secretly agreed with this and told me that even Leicester had joined those who supported the plan for Norfolk to marry Mary Queen of Scots, so that she could be assured of an English husband. He could then make a Protestant of her, and if Elizabeth were to die and Mary inherit the throne, the religion of England would not change.
William Cecil was against such a marriage, but there were many influential men in the country who would have been pleased to see Cecil deposed. As Leicester had joined the plotters he was chosen to explain to the Queen the danger in which Cecil was placing the country. His present policy was alienating those influential Catholic countries, France and Spain, and to placate them it might be necessary to send Cecil to the block.
I heard from several sources what had happened at that meeting of the Council and never had the Queen shown her true nature so openly as she did on that occasion. I could picture her clearly. Her greatness must have been evident as she faced those schemers. The ax for Cecil! She broke out into a torrent of abuse for all those round that table who had dared suggest such a thing.
She reminded them that these were not the days of her father when ministers were sent to the block to make way for others. Cecil was against the marriage of Mary of Scotland and Norfolk, was he? They should know that Cecil's mistress agreed with him, and they should be well advised to watch their actions, lest they find themselves in that position into which they were trying to hustle Cecil. She would like them to inform their friend, the Queen of Scots, that if she did not take better care of them, some of her friends might find themselves shorter by a head.
When Walter discussed this with me, I said that I supposed they would drop their plan to remove Cecil now, but he shook his head and hinted that they might be conspiring against him in secret.
I was a little afraid then because I knew that Robert was involved, and I wondered what would happen if the Queen discovered that he was working against her. His treachery would be a thousand times worse than that of anyone else. I could not understand myself. I had wanted revenge on him for what he had done to me. I had often, overwhelmed by my young bitterness declared —to myself, of course—that I should like to see him dismissed from Court as I had been. And now, here I was, worried because he was in acute danger.
But even though he was deeply involved with the conspirators, I might have known he would find a way out. I heard the story in snatches: How news had come to the Queen that Robert was dying and how she left everything to go to his bedside. She loved him. There was no doubt of that and I think that hers was a more abiding passion than that which Mary of Scotland ever had for Bothwell. With Mary it had been that irresistible physical attraction which had overwhelmed her so that she had bartered her crown for it; but she never had for him that enduring devotion which Elizabeth felt for Robert. Elizabeth simply wanted her throne more than she wanted Robert. But she loved him all the same.
He was relying on that affection to extricate him from a very dangerous situation—and it worked.
I could well imagine that pathetic bedside scene, with Robert lying there enacting the deathbed scene with great panache. All her love would have flowed to the surface. She could be so loyal to those whom she loved, just as she could never forgive those whom she hated.
I could picture Robert's account of his devotion to her. How he feared for her and had been led to believe that it was best for Elizabeth that Mary should marry Norfolk. And that was the reason why he had given his support to the plan ... solely out of love for her ... and now he could not forgive himself for acting without her knowledge, although he had done it out of his concern for her. He was clever with women. He knew how to give just the right amount of flattery; he was very artful with the artless comment. It was small wonder that so many women loved him—and Elizabeth was one of the many.
She had wept. Her Sweet Robin must not fret. She commanded him to get well, for she could not lose him. I could imagine the looks which would pass between them. Of course he would live. Hadn't he always obeyed her commands?
How typical it was of our sovereign lady that she should forgive Robert while at the same time she sent for Norfolk. The Duke was arrested and sent to the Tower.