So it was agreed and, that night, Robert and I were together in the Queen's chamber and I could not stop thinking of Elizabeth sleeping there, believing that the chamber was kept solely in readiness for her visits; and there was I, in this superb bed with my husband with whom I was madly in love and he with me, and I pictured what her fury would be like if she could see us now.
This was indeed the supreme victory.
I think Robert derived a great deal of satisfaction from it too, for, in spite of his pleasure in me, he must have been smarting from those insulting words of hers. He could not have had a greater revenge.
How deeply involved we three were together. Even on our wedding night, it seemed that she was there with us.
But whatever the outcome, the fact remained that, without doubt, I was Robert's wife.
The next day there was disconcerting news. A messenger arrived from the Queen. She had heard that the Earl of Leicester was at his estate of Wanstead and she had decided that she would stay there for two nights on the last stages of her journey to Greenwich. As her Eyes had been so sad because last time she had visited Wanstead he had been at Buxton taking the baths, she was shortening her journey that she might spend two days in his company.
It was almost as though she knew. The thought occurred to us both that she did and that she had arranged this because of it. Robert was greatly disturbed, for, as he had pointed out to me, when the explanation came he must be the one to give it and he must choose the moment. It would never do for her to discover through someone else. It was most disconcerting that this should come on the day after our wedding, but at least there was a warning; and on consideration it seemed to us that if she had in fact known what had happened, she would never have given us the warning which enabled us to have time to cover up.
"We must act quickly," said Robert, and the others agreed with him. I should leave immediately and go back with my father to Durham House. Robert, with Warwick and North, should stay at Wanstead and prepare for the coming of the Queen.
I had to agree. My triumph in the Queen's bed was over.
Reluctantly and somewhat deflated I left Wanstead and went back to wait as patiently as I could for Robert to come to me.
I suppose the journeys to and fro and all the excitement proved too much for me in my condition; and perhaps because I had brought about the loss of a child before, life was punishing me. In any case I gave birth to a stillborn child and in as much secrecy as we could manage.
It was some little time before Robert could come to me, for the Queen was so pleased with his company at Wanstead that she insisted on his returning to Greenwich with her. When he came I had recovered from the worst of my misadventure and he comforted me by saying we would have a son before long. The Queen had shown no suspicion, so we had been unduly alarmed.
He was confident that when the time came he would be able to break the news to her gently and with the least disaster to ourselves. For the time being I could plead illness; and the fact that she was chattering continually about the proposed French marriage would make it all so much easier.
We were together for a while at Durham House, but I did wish that we could declare our marriage openly.
"All in due course," soothed Robert. He was so ebullient. After all, he had come through a great number of upsets with the Queen and survived. I was not so sure of myself. I remembered that I had once before been exiled from the Court for a very long time.
Still, life was exciting. I was Robert's wife—firmly married to him in a ceremony witnessed by my father; and my nature did revel in playing this dangerous game with the Queen.
Betrayal
Leicester considered his own ambitious hopes at an end, and privately married the widowed Countess of Essex, of whom he was deeply enamoured. Simier, having penetrated this secret, gave immediate information of it to the Queen, as he suspected that her regard for Leicester was the principal obstacle to her marriage with Anjou.
There followed months of subterfuge. I returned to Court, and whenever we could be, Robert and I were together. The Queen kept him a great deal with her, and I had to witness my husband making verbal love to my rival, which I have to confess caused me no small jealousy.
I knew of course that Elizabeth would never take a real lover and that in this respect she lived in a world of make-believe which had no substance in reality; and Robert tried to make up for my irritation with all this. We would exchange glances daringly in the Queen's presence; I would suddenly feel the pressure of his body against mine and the spark of desire would flare up between us even in the Presence Chamber. I warned him: "You will betray us one day." And I would be pleased that he risked so much. He shrugged his shoulders and pretended not to care, but I knew all the time that he was very eager to keep our secret in spite of the risks he took.
I gave the Queen an amber necklace decorated with pearls and gold for the New Year's gift and she declared herself delighted with it. She commented, though, that I looked a little pale, and she wondered whether I had recovered from my illness.
Robert had thought he should be especially lavish with his gifts just in case she thought he was not paying her as much attention as usual, and I helped him choose a beautiful clock set with rubies and diamonds, and some ruby and diamond buttons with bodkins to match for use in her hair. I knew she would delight in wearing them because he had given them to her.
I often saw her looking at them fondly and caressing them when they were in her hair; and she kept the clock beside her bed.
It was a bleak cold January day when Jehan de Simier arrived in London. He was a voluble gentleman with great charm of manners which delighted the Queen, particularly when he made a show of being overwhelmed by her beauty—and indeed she was a glittering figure when she received the Frenchman. She told how delighted she was that his master had renewed his courtship. She had thought of him constantly and it would appear that, this time, nothing would prevent their marriage.
She danced with him and played the virginals for his pleasure. She was so anxious that he should carry a good report of her to the Duc. She said that she was glad that she had not taken his brother—who as the Duc of Anjou had once courted her. He had been unfaithful and married someone else and she was delighted with the prospect of marriage with dear Alencon, as he had been, and Anjou, as he was now.
She looked at least ten years younger; dressing sessions were longer and she was very meticulous, scolding us if we did not dress her hair as she wished. Attending her was an ordeal but at the same time amusing. She was not irritable but gave to sharp little bursts of anger if she thought we did not do our best and we often had a slap or a pinch for our pains. I was amazed by her— though she had never looked her age because of her youthful figure and that amazingly white skin which she took such care to preserve. She could behave like a young girl in love for the first time. Yet she was deluding even herself, for she had no intention of marrying this French Prince.
She kept Simier at her side and made sure of his comfort. She asked him many questions about the Duc. How did he compare with his brother? she wanted to know.
"He is not quite as tall as his brother," was the answer.
"I hear that the King of France is indeed handsome and surrounds himself with almost as handsome young men."
"The Duc d'Anjou is not quite so fair as his brother," was the answer.
"I believe the King to be a trifle vain."