"That's true," said Robert. "I will arrange it. Come to Kenilworth and the ceremony shall take place there. There will be no more delay."
He meant it this time. He was furious with the Queen for her excitement over the French suitor, and of course what she had said of him had been reported to him. He was not going to allow himself to be so humiliated before the whole Court and dance attendance on her while she archly prepared herself for her meeting with the Duc d'Anjou, who seemed likely to succeed where he had failed.
Fate was favoring me. This was my triumph. I had won. I knew her so well. She would not marry Anjou—she had no intention of doing so. She enjoyed pretending because it infuriated Robert and showed everyone how desperately he wanted to become her husband.
"It is the crown he wants, Cousin," I said to myself, and how I should have loved to say it to her!
How I should enjoy standing before her and telling her that I was the one he loved. "See," I would maliciously point out. "He has even risked your displeasure to marry me."
I made the journey to Kenilworth and there we went through a ceremony of marriage.
"As yet," said Robert, "we must preserve the utmost secrecy. I must choose the right moment to break it to the Queen."
I knew he was right about this so I agreed.
I was happy. I had achieved my purpose. I was the Countess of Leicester, Robert's wife.
Back at Durham House my father came to see me. He had always kept a sharp eye on us and I think I gave him more anxiety than any of my brothers and sisters, although when I had married Walter he had believed I had settled for a life of domesticity.
After Walter's death he had begun to visit me more frequently and I have no doubt that he had heard rumors about Walter's suspicious end.
Francis Knollys was a very good and pious man and I was proud that he was my father, but he had grown even more puritanical as the years passed. He watched over my children and was very concerned about their religious upbringing; as none of them was inclined to religion, they found this rather tiresome, and I had to admit that I agreed with them.
Now he called unexpectedly and it was impossible to hide my condition from him. He was alarmed and after embracing me he held me at arm's length and looked at me searchingly.
"Yes, Father," I said, "I am with child."
He stared at me in horror.
"But Walter ..."
"I was not in love with Walter, Father. We were separated so much. We had not a great many shared interests."
"That is no way for a wife to talk of her husband."
"I must be truthful to you, Father. Walter was a good husband, but he is dead and I am too young to remain a widow for the rest of my life. I have found a man whom I love dearly... ."
"And you are with child by him!"
"He is my husband and in due course our marriage will be taken out of secrecy."
"Secrecy! What is this? And you already with child!" He looked at me in horror. "I have heard a name mentioned with yours and this shocks me. The Earl of Leicester ..."
"He is my husband," I said.
"Oh God in heaven!" cried my father, and he was praying aloud, for he was not a man to use oaths. "Do not let this be true."
I said patiently: "It is true. Robert and I are married. What's wrong with that? You were glad enough to marry me to Walter Devereux. Robert Dudley is a far greater man than Walter could ever be."
"He is a far more ambitious man."
"What's wrong with ambition?"
"Stop wrangling," said my father sternly. "I want to know what this is all about."
"I am not a child, Father," I reminded him.
"You are my daughter. Let me know the worst."
"There is no worst. It is all the best of news. Robert and I love each other and because of this we are married and shall soon have a child."
"Yet you must hide yourself, hide your marriage. Lettice, have you no wisdom! His first wife died mysteriously. He has always hoped to marry the Queen. I have heard disturbing stories about Lady Sheffield."
"They are untrue."
"She was first his mistress and then his wife, some say."
"She was never his wife. That is a story circulated because she had a child by him."
"And you find this acceptable?"
"I would accept a great deal if Robert went with it."
"And now you have put yourself in a similar position to that of Lady Sheffield."
"Indeed I have not. I am married to Robert."
"So she thought. My child—for so you seem since you can be so easily deluded—it is clear that he went through a form of marriage with Lady Sheffield—a mock ceremony. Then when he wanted to, he could discard her. Don't you see he has put you in a similar position?"
"That's untrue!" I cried, but it was hard to prevent my voice trembling. It had been a secret ceremony, and Douglass Sheffield must have been deceived because she was clearly a woman who could not easily lie.
"I am going to see Leicester," said my father firmly. "I am going to find out exactly what this is all about, and I am going to see the ceremony performed before my eyes, and with witnesses. If you are to be Robert Dudley's wife, you must be so surely so that he cannot discard you when he wishes to turn his attention to someone else."
My father left me then and I wondered what the outcome would be.
I was soon to discover.
My father came to Durham House and with him were Robert's brother, the Earl of Warwick, and a close friend, the Earl of Pembroke.
"Prepare yourself to leave at once," said my father. "We are going to Wanstead. There you are to be married to the Earl of Leicester."
"Has Robert agreed to this second ceremony?" I asked.
"He is eager for it. He has convinced me that he is devoted to you and has no wish but that your union shall be legal."
By this time I was heavily pregnant but delighted to make the journey.
When we reached Wanstead, Robert was waiting there with Lord North, who had always been one of his greatest friends.
He embraced me and told me that my father was determined on this ceremony and he himself was nothing loath. He would not have any doubt his great desire to marry me and live with me as my husband.
The next morning we were joined by my brother, Richard, and one of Robert's chaplains, a Mr. Tindall, who was to perform the ceremony; and there in the gallery at Wanstead, my father gave me away to the Earl of Leicester, and the ceremony was conducted in such a manner and with such witnesses that it could never be denied that it had taken place.
My father said: "My daughter will soon give birth to your child. Then there will have to be an acknowledgment of the marriage in order to preserve her good name."
"You may safely leave that to me," Robert assured him, but my father was not so easily set aside.
"It must be known that she is truly married and the Countess of Leicester."
"My dear Sir Francis," replied my husband, "can you imagine what the Queen's wrath will be like when she knows I have married without her consent?"
"Then why did you not ask her consent?"
"Because it would never have been given. I must have time to break it to her ... to choose my moment. If she were to announce her betrothal to the French Prince, then I should be justified in telling her I have a wife."
"Oh, Father," I said impatiently, "you must see the point of all this. Do you want us to be thrown into the Tower. As for you, what would your position be when it was known that you had actually attended the ceremony. You know full well her temper."
"I know it full well, as you say," replied my father, and Warwick joined with his brother and said that of course they must be discreet and leave it to Robert to make the decision because of his intimate knowledge of the Queen's moods.