“To bring the Queen of Scots to the Tower would be dangerous,” he continued eventually. “There might be an attempt to rescue her on the way there; and the cause would scarcely be considered just. She would become a martyr and you well know the people's feelings for such.”
Of course he was right.
But those women had arranged this marriage without my permission.
“Ah, there we have a point,” said Cecil. “Charles, being of royal Stuart blood, should have asked permission before marrying, and failing to do this has broken the law.”
That was good enough. Very soon I had those two energetic countesses in the Tower.
But all this was very disturbing, bringing home to me again the uneasiness of royalty, particularly that of a House which many must still believe had come to the throne not through the straight line of succession. There had been three generations of sovereign Tudors by now, but can one ever be completely safe? Even my father had had to make sure that those who might lay claim by blood to the throne were put out of the way.
That set me brooding on Mary Stuart. There would never be real peace in my life while she lived.
A further cause for annoyance was that, on his way home from Poland to France, Henri III had met and fallen in love with Louise of Lorraine whom he insisted on marrying. What was particularly galling was that La Mothe, I discovered later, had been instructed to keep the news from me as long as possible. I always felt piqued when a one-time suitor married. I wanted them to be like Robert and go on sighing for the impossible forever.
I pretended that my anger was because Henri had married a member of the House of Guise, which had always been my enemy and with whom Mary Stuart had close connections, her mother being one of them.
Then I heard that Catherine de' Medici and her Court had been amused by the action of dwarfs who had been dressed up to look like my father and myself and the Earl of Leicester. I could imagine what ribaldry had been intended; and I saw no reason for not giving expression to my indignation. I let La Mothe know of it, pointing out to him that if the courtiers of France wished to make fun of any they might first start in their own Court.
However, Catherine was still anxious to preserve good relations. She must still have hopes for the newly created Duc d'Anjou, for she sent placating letters. I was assured that the dwarfs who had taken part in the masquerade were all very pretty and the scene had much charm and had been carried out with the impeccable taste due to persons of distinction. If any offense had been taken, it must have been because of my Ambassador's imperfect knowledge of the French language.
I did not believe it, and I continued to show my displeasure.
All the same, negotiations for a marriage with my little French Prince were not broken off.
Kenilworth
ROBERT HAD LAVISHED A GREAT DEAL OF TIME AND MONEY on the Castle of Kenilworth, which had come to him with his title, and he often talked about the place, telling me how much he longed to entertain me there.
Why should I not visit his beloved mansion? I asked myself. I was constantly taking tours through the country. I liked the people to see me and I wished to be assured of their regard.
So in the summer I set out with my entourage. We made a rather impressive cavalcade passing through the countryside for we took not only trunks of clothes but household furnishings as well. I liked my bath to be taken along, for some of the houses were very primitive, and I am sure many of the inhabitants of them never dreamt of taking a bath. They had to be careful of their personal cleanliness when I was around though. I made sure of that. I liked them to know well in advance that I was coming so that they could look to the sweetening of their houses, for there was little I loathed as much as evil-smelling places and verminous rushes.
I was in good spirits when we set out, thinking of Robert whose company I should soon be enjoying, and imagining the lavish spectacles he would be devising for my pleasure.
Before we reached Itchingworth we were met by a party of riders, and I was delighted when I saw who rode at the head of them. I recognized him from a distance. No one sat a horse quite like Robert; no one had his air of distinction and mystery; it was a particularly delightful encounter because I had not been expecting it, imagining that Robert would have so much to prepare at Kenilworth that he would need to be on hand, waiting to greet me when I arrived.
“Why,” I cried out as he rode up, dismounted and knelt in that wonderfully courtly fashion which none could practice as he did, “if it is not my Lord Leicester! We did not expect you here, my lord.”
“My impatience to see Your Majesty was so great that I could wait no longer.”
“And you were sure of your welcome, I'll be bound.”
He was standing up now, so tall, so distinguished, my heart leaped with pleasure at the sight of him, as it always did after an absence.
“All is well at Kenilworth?” I asked.
“As well as it can be without Your Majesty's presence, but that I trust will soon be remedied; and then Kenilworth will be the happiest house in the world.”
Such charming things he said! He was the constant wooer and that was how I wanted it to remain.
“Have I Your Majesty's permission to ride beside you?”
“You would incur Her Majesty's displeasure if you rode anywhere else, Master of Horse.”
Then we laughed and talked and, as we rode into Itchingworth, I noticed there were two women in the party whose names had been linked with Robert's; one was Douglass Sheffield, the other was Lettice Knollys.
They were both exceptionally beautiful women and obviously of very differing temperaments. Douglass was a soft and clinging creature while the handsome Lettice, as I have said before, could take good care of herself.
I have no doubt that there were many women who could boast of encounters with Robert. Why not? As long as they were unimportant and Robert did not become heavily involved, I was not averse to his having a brief flirtation with such women. I knew very well that they were all substitutes and, he being a lusty man, they were necessary to him; any one of them would be dropped at a word from me. As long as that state was preserved I did not object.
I dismissed both women from my mind and gave myself up to the chase which was most enjoyable.
After Itchingworth we went to Grafton, which was one of my houses. The weather was very hot and, as we stepped into the cool hall, Robert said the first thing that I required was a drink of cool ale.
“As you do yourself, my lord, I'll swear,” I said.
He admitted this was so and he called to the servants to bring ale which they did, but when I put it to my lips I spat it out.
I was furious. Why, in my own house, did they have such stuff? They knew I drank only the mildest ale, and this strong variety was not to my liking; and yet they had dared bring it to me.
Robert tried a flagon and when he had sipped, grimaced.
“It is as strong as malmsey,” he cried. “I feel heady already.” Then he roared out to the servants that light ale must be brought at once.
There was pandemonium throughout the house. Where was the ale the Queen preferred? Apparently they had none in the house at all. They had known I was coming yet had neglected to provision it, and here I was tired and hot and unable to quench my raging thirst in my own home!
“Bring something!” I shouted. “I dare not let Your Majesty take the water,” said Robert. “For all we know it could be contaminated. Leave it to me.”
What a wonderful organizer he was! What a man of action! In a few moments he had sent his servants out in all directions telling them that they must return with light ale suitable for the Queen to drink.