I felt the blood rush to my face. Although I was ready to accept Robert's passionate devotion and did not care who knew it existed, the thought of childbearing was repulsive to me. The very idea sickened me and it angered me that this was being said about me.
Kat who perhaps knew me better than any understood this.
She said gently: “You remember, my love, what they said of you and Thomas Seymour.”
“Yes, wild stories of a midwife's being taken to a house in the dead of night… blindfold. What wicked lies people make up about me.”
“You are the Queen, my love. You should remember it. They are now talking of you and Lord Robert as they did of you and Thomas Seymour.”
“And he lost his head,” I mused. “What has happened to this woman Dowe?”
“She was taken into prison by the Sheriff of Donberry.”
“She shall be released,” I said. “I will show the people in what contempt I hold such stories by not treating them seriously.”
Kat nodded.
“And by acting in a way not to give rise to such,” she added. At which I gave her a push which sent her sprawling. She picked herself up, ruefully shrugging her shoulders.
“It is all such nonsense,” I said. “What opportunities would I have? I am watched night and day. Am I not surrounded by councilors … ladies of this and gentlemen of that? I have no chance of being other than I am— a chaste virgin. But, Kat Ashley, if ever I took it into my mind to change that state, I should be the one to decide, and no one in this realm would stop me.”
Kat sank to her knees sobbing.
“Oh, my dear Majesty,” she said, “take care, take care. Remember Thomas Seymour. I nearly died of fright then.”
“Because they took you to the Tower and you betrayed me.”
Her teeth were chattering. “Dearest, take care, take care. Men will be the death of you.”
“No, Kat, I will be the death of them, but I shall be in command. It is different now. Get up, you idiot, and stop sniveling. There is no need to cry for me. Everything is changed. I am the Queen now. It is for me to say what shall be.”
She got to her feet and fell into my arms still weeping. I laughed away her tears, but I did feel a twinge of uneasiness.
WE RODE OUT to the hunt, Robert beside me. I told him how I felt about the rumors.
He looked at me ardently and said: “It will not be much longer.”
“There is too much talk. Robert, we must be more discreet. You must not be with me so much.”
“Do you wish that?”
“No, certainly not.”
“Then surely the Queen's wishes should be obeyed.”
“We must be wise. The people will not like to think that you and I are lovers.”
“Should they not know the truth?”
“I mean lovers in another sense.”
He laughed. “Well, we are in thought if not in deed. Soon, I trust…”
I shook my head and galloped ahead but he was soon beside me.
“Elizabeth,” he said excitedly, “it is only Amy who stands in our way and she is a very sick woman. She has a malignant growth. My dearest lady, be patient… just a little longer.”
“I do not like this talk of death,” I said. “It is not right for a man to talk so of his wife to another woman.”
“It is right to speak the truth. Be patient a little longer.”
“Poor girl,” I said. “Does she hear rumors of her husband's falseness in that house… what is it?”
“Cumnor Place. She has always felt uneasy about our marriage … knowing that she lacks the social gifts to share in such a union.”
“You have a great opinion of yourselves, you Dudleys.”
“Not quite as great as the Tudors.”
“Indeed not, and how could it be so? But I do not wish to hear of your Amy. I grieve for the poor lonely soul whose husband rarely deigns to visit her.”
“I cannot live without the warmth of the sun.”
“I am the sun, am I? Well, Robert. I'm glad you enjoy the warmth in which you bask. But I think you should be a little kinder to your lawful wedded wife. You neglect her most shamefully. If you do not make a good husband to one, could you to another?”
This brought about one of those declarations of undying devotion and praise of my beauty and wit to which I so much liked to listen.
People were noticing us so I rode on and joined other members of the party.
I was in a strange mood that day. I was almost inclined to believe that I could have married Robert. I argued with myself that although the idea of marriage was not completely enticing, there was one man and one only with whom I would embark on it.
It was unfortunate—or so it turned out later—that I was in this mood when the Spanish Ambassador de Quadra approached me.
He was a very solemn gentleman and like all ambassadors more or less a spy for his master. Since the betrothal of Philip of Spain and Elisabeth of France our relations with Spain had been more difficult than ever. While Philip had been hoping for a marriage with me, the Ambassadors had been very affable. Now they were less so, but still urging their candidate—in this case the Archduke Charles.
I was in a frivolous mood and when de Quadra threw out his hints, I couldn't help bringing Robert's name into the conversation for it always amused me to see their panic when they contemplated a union between me and Robert. The fact that he had a wife made them feel safer about it—as it did me, but on this occasion I threw aside caution.
De Quadra remarked that Lord Robert had seemed somewhat unhappy during the hunt.
“He fears to lose Your Majesty's especial favor on the occasion of your marriage.”
“Lord Robert doubtless thinks of his wife. She is dead or nearly so.”
He looked at me in astonishment and immediately I realized I had been indiscreet.
“Pray, my lord,” I said, “say nothing of this.”
He bowed his head, but I knew he would write at once to Philip and tell him what I had said.
Cecil came to me that very day. He wanted to talk about the rumors regarding Robert and me.
“They are dangerous and I have to confess to Your Majesty a certain indiscretion.”
“You indiscreet! I cannot believe that.”
“De Quadra talked slyly, I thought, of Lord Robert's wife.”
“Why should he speak of her?”
“There are rumors that Lord Robert would like to be rid of her in order to marry you.”
“No doubt he would,” I said. “Any ambitious man would look to exchange a country girl for a queen.”
“He said there was a rumor that Lord Robert was planning to kill her himself and that it was being circulated that the lady was suffering from an incurable illness, to which I replied that I thought the lady was well and taking good care not to be poisoned.”
“That does not seem to me to be so very indiscreet.”
“I was sorry immediately I said it, but I had to confess to you. I wish that you would marry. Once you did and produced an heir, we should have an end to these damaging rumors.”
“I will think seriously of the matter,” I promised him, and I assured him that we were all indiscreet at moments and he had been honorable enough to tell me what had taken place. I did not tell him what I had said to the Ambassador.
A few days later the news broke.
On the previous Sunday, a day after I had told the Spanish Ambassador that Lady Dudley was dead or soon would be, she was indeed dead. She had been found at the bottom of a staircase in Cumnor Place with her neck broken.