A Woman of Passion (42 page)

The queen ordered an immediate inquiry into the disturbing near-tragedy that had taken place at her Court. Elizabeth, who had a morbid fear of poison and ate and drank as little as possible, always used a food taster for anything that passed her lips. Suspicion immediately fell upon the astrologer, Hugh Draper, who was the only stranger who'd had access to the St. Loe rooms.

When he was arrested and sent to the Tower, along with his assistants, it was learned that Sir William's brother, Edward, had been seen frequenting the astrologer-sorcerer's establishment in Red Cross Street, and the Court was abuzz with the shocking news that Edward St. Loe had tried to murder William and Bess.

“Darling, they won't arrest Edward unless you press charges against him.” Bess would have felt much safer with Edward St. Loe in the Tower with his evil associates.

“My dearest, I have no proof that Edward was involved, but even if I had, the scandal would be horrific. For your sake I don't want notoriety connected to the St. Loe name. There is a better way to be sure no further attempts will be made upon us. Today I made an indenture to hold my lands jointly in both our names. When I
die you will get all the lands, so the incentive for Edward to get rid of me has been removed.”

“Oh, Will, you are so generous. How can I ever thank you for all you have done for the children and me?”

“Consenting to be my wife is all the thanks I will ever need. You fill up my heart, Bess.”

She could not help feeling guilty, for though she loved Sir William St. Loe, she was not
in love
with him, and Bess wished with all her heart that it could be otherwise.

“You need a change of air, dearest. A summer at Chatsworth will do you a world of good. I'll go over to Eton College and make the arrangements for the boys to take their holidays.”

“You are coming too, Will. You look positively haggard these days. Elizabeth works you far too hard.” Bess knew he would never criticize the queen, so she did it for him.

The week after they arrived at Chatsworth, Bess's stepfather, Ralph Leche, passed away. After the funeral Bess crossed herself, realizing this was the third death. The following week Sir William received a dispatch from the queen, requesting his immediate return. Elizabeth had decided to move her Court to Greenwich Palace for the summer and could not manage without her captain of the guard and chief butler of England.

“Damn Elizabeth; she treats you like a lapdog. The minute you leave her side, she calls you to heel.” Bess vented her anger, because Syntlo looked as if he needed a rest. “I shall come back with you. It is my duty as your wife to see that she doesn't work you day and night!”

“My love, I am used to the queen's whims and know how to take care of myself at my age, I should hope. I
think you should stay here to comfort your mother in her loss. The summer is so short, my dearest. Spend it with the children and your family. Perhaps you will get the third story of Chatsworth finished this year.”

Bess felt humbled. He was such a devoted man, who always put her needs before his own. She felt torn, but in the end Chatsworth won. Bess was afraid that it always would.

When he returned for her at the end of August, however, Bess regretted her decision. Her husband looked as if he had aged ten years in one short summer. He was stooped and his pallor was yellowish, making Bess fear that the poison he ingested had permanently damaged his liver.

Marcella dosed him with the herb allheal, which had a hot, biting taste and was extremely good for the liver and spleen. The jaundice disappeared, but unfortunately the stoop was permanent.

When the door closed on their luxurious bedchamber at Chatsworth, Bess was happy that Syntlo became excited at the thought of sleeping with her, but an hour later, when he had not been able to achieve an erection, she became concerned.

Sir William flung himself from the great carved bed in frustration. “I'm sorry, Bess, I'm useless!”

“It's all right, Will, it doesn't matter.”

“It matters to me! My God, I've dreamed of you every night. You wouldn't believe how erotic those dreams were, and now this!”

“Come back to bed, Will. Perhaps it was something I did, or didn't do. Come, we'll try again.”

After much persuasion he got back into bed and lay staring at the canopy. Realizing he was afraid of failure, Bess moved close and lifted his arm about her. Then she
began to kiss him. Her kisses were not aggressive or demanding in any way, but soft and gentle. Slowly, she stroked her hand down his chest, across his hip, then cupped him with the palm of her hand. When he grew half-erect, she closed her fingers about him and squeezed. Then, with featherlike strokes, she drew her fingers up his shaft to the head and pulsed her fingertips until he engorged with blood.

He gasped and moved over her immediately to mount her, but his erection shriveled instantly. Bess was willing to keep trying, but Sir William was not. “It's too humiliating. I'll never be able to satisfy you.”

“Hush, Will,” Bess soothed, “it's probably the herbs Marcella dosed you with. It will be fine tomorrow. Let's get some rest.” She enfolded him in her arms and cushioned his cheek against her breast. It was another hour before she heard his breathing alter and she knew he slept.

As she lay quietly beside him, her heart overflowed with compassion. She didn't believe that their sex life was completely over, but she was wise enough to realize that this episode of failure and frustration would not be the last.

Bess was most happy the Court had moved from Greenwich back to Windsor before she returned, not only because their apartment at the castle was so spacious, but because her sons were close by at Eton. Queen Elizabeth's birthday was September 7, and Windsor was a hive of activity, preparing for the celebration.

A great masque was being planned. The Presence Chamber would be decorated to look like an underwater kingdom, and those invited would be costumed as Neptune
, Poseidon, water sprites, and mermaids. The days leading up to Her Majesty's birthday were filled with frenzied activities.

There was a great hunt, then a medieval tournament with jousting. There was a large hawking party and daily contests with rich prizes at the archery butts. The courtiers were almost worn out before the big day arrived, yet at her birthday masque, Elizabeth danced until dawn.

Bess helped Elizabeth out of her crystal-encrusted gown and long green wig. The dressing room adjoining the queen's bedchamber was in chaos, with garments lying everywhere, but Elizabeth told Bess to leave it and attend to it later, after the queen had three or four hours of sleep. Bess withdrew to the anteroom, sank down in a soft chair, and put up her aching feet.

She didn't awaken until after nine o'clock and wondered why one of the other ladies-of-the-bedchamber hadn't come to relieve her. Mary and Lettice both must have slept late. Bess stood up and stretched. It would feel good to get out of her gown and climb into her own bed. She went through to the queen's bedchamber and drew back the heavy curtains on both windows.

“Good morning, Your Majesty; it has gone nine o'clock.”

“Good morning, Bess; that was the most glorious birthday celebration I've ever had!”

Bess held Elizabeth's bedgown, and the queen slipped her arms into the sleeves and wrapped it about her slender body. When Bess went into the dressing room, she was appalled at the disarray that met her eyes. She began to tidy up immediately and opened the huge wardrobe to put away some of the gowns. Bess was very efficient and methodical and had the dressing room tidy in short order.

Bess heard Robin Dudley's voice and paused in what she was doing, thinking she should withdraw so they could be private.

“Amy is dead!” Robin's deep voice seemed unnaturally loud.

“At last!” Elizabeth's voice sounded exultant.

“She was found with a broken neck at the bottom of the stairs.”

“What? You brainless, clumsy, stupid fool, Robin! By Christ's precious blood, you've ruined everything! Was this your idea of the perfect birthday gift for me? Amy was supposed to die in bed with the doctors hovering about her! How could you have committed this insanely stupid act?”

“Elizabeth, I didn't kill her!” Dudley's voice quivered with emotion.

Bess sank down upon a stool, her knees turned to water. She remained as still and silent as she could.

“You bloody fool, Robin. I don't cavil at murder, if it can be dressed up as something else, but this is beyond all disguise! The entire world will accuse you, but worse, it will point its accusing finger at
me
and condemn
me
!”

“Elizabeth, stop it. On my honor I had nothing to do with my wife's death. If it was not an accident, then it was suicide!”

“It was murder, you fool! If not by you, then by your worst enemy, to prevent you from marrying the queen.”

“Cecil! He's the only one with enough power, enough cunning and determination!”

“Cecil has been away for weeks negotiating a peace with Scotland. Take your bloody hands off me! It isn't what has happened that matters, it's what it appears to the whole world—and believe me when I tell you it appears that we have murdered your wife so that we can
wed. If this crime can be proved against you, you will lose your head, you clumsy fool!”

“I wouldn't be the first lover you've abandoned to the block.”

Elizabeth gasped. “Lord Dudley, you will be taken to Kew under house arrest until there is an inquest into your wife's death.”

“I understand, madam,” he said coldly.

Bess heard him withdraw, and Elizabeth let out such a cry of anguish, Bess came to the door of the dressing room. Elizabeth stared at her in horror, as if she had forgotten her presence in the adjoining chamber.

“What in the name of hellfire are you staring at? You sly bitch, listening at keyholes! Don't you dare to look at me like that. You are nothing but a bloody hypocrite, Bess Hardwick. You and Cavendish poisoned his wife so he could wed you!”

Bess stiffened with outrage. “That is a lie, Your Majesty. I would not take my happiness at the cost of another woman's pain and suffering.”

“I would!” Elizabeth said defiantly. “I have! I had some damned good teachers.” The queen's amber eyes glittered dangerously. “If you open your mouth outside this chamber, I'll see that it's closed permanently.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Bess swept her a curtsy. “May I withdraw?”

“Yes, get out!”

When Bess reached the antechamber, the door opened and Cat Ashley entered. Elizabeth's cries and curses could be heard all over the apartments. “What has happened, Bess?”

“Something terrible, Cat. She experiences everything with the same deep passion I do. You had better let her scream and rage until she gets it all out.”

W
hile Robin Dudley was banished from Court, the queen did not dance all night. She retired to her bedchamber at a decent hour, but in the antechamber Bess was still kept awake for hours as she listened to Elizabeth's sobbing. Though Bess had been offended and hurt at the angry words Elizabeth had hurled at her, she decided not to leave her Court appointment as lady-of-the-bedchamber. She fully understood this was a terrible time for the queen, and Bess refused to desert her.

In the New Year the inquest into the death of Amy Dudley returned an open verdict, which neither cleared nor condemned Robin Dudley. It was good enough for Elizabeth, however, who immediately welcomed him back to Court. Though she no longer sobbed the night away, Bess could see that Elizabeth was taut as a harp string, living on her nerves, pretending indifference that she was being laughed at all over the world for her scandalous behavior with her horse master.

Each day Bess saw her grow thinner and paler, until finally she gathered her courage and spoke to Elizabeth.
“Your Majesty, I presume upon our long acquaintance. Your gaiety is forced, as worry over something eats away your soul.”

The Queen fixed Bess with a haughty glare. “Your presumption is pure arrogance, Lady St. Loe.” Then Elizabeth heaved a deep sigh. “I am at a crossroads. One path leads to my fulfillment as a woman—the other to my fulfillment as a queen. By Christ's precious blood, you have had three husbands; can I not have just one—is it too much to ask?”

“Your Majesty, I am fulfilling my destiny, as you must fulfill yours. You do not want or need my advice. Our choices in life are difficult, but as you know they are unavoidable.”

In the months that followed, Elizabeth honored Robin Dudley constantly, first with a pension, then a license to export pelts and furs. Following this she bestowed upon him the levies on all imported wines and silks, and it was rumored that an earldom was being considered.

Most courtiers surmised that the queen was about to throw caution to the wind, but Bess knew differently. Robin was receiving these favors from the queen as compensation for a marriage that would never take place. Elizabeth had chosen the path that would lead to her fulfillment as a great queen.

Bess's eldest daughter, Frances, turned thirteen, and Bess knew the time was ripe to arrange a good marriage for her. One of the most prominent men in Nottingham was Sir George Pierrepont, whose ancestors had lived at Holme Pierrepont for generations. Naturally, such a prominent family had enjoyed the hospitality of Chatsworth, and Bess had not missed the fact that Sir George's
heir, Henry, was only two or three years older than her daughter Francie. Not only was Sir George impressively wealthy, a shrewd Bess could see that his health was deteriorating from either gout or rheumatics, and it would not be long before young Harry inherited everything.

Bess discussed the matter with Syntlo, who promptly offered to furnish their beloved Francie with a sizable dowry. Not to be outdone by her generous husband, Bess decided she would give Francie one of her manors upon her daughter's marriage. Bess penned a letter to Sir George and Lady Pierrepont, opening negotiations, and decided that if the reply was favorable, she would visit them at Nottingham on her way to Chatsworth.

Bess had no sooner dispatched the letter than Lady Catherine Grey knocked on Lady St. Loe's door, asking to speak with her in private. When Bess saw the worried frown on Catherine's face, she bade her sit and dismissed the servants. “Catherine, poppet, whatever is amiss?”