Queen Elizabeth's Daughter (30 page)

“Why the secrecy? You two aren’t planning to get married, are you?” said Sir James, laughing.

“Well, sir, that is exactly what we are planning … with your help,” said John.

“I do not blame you one bit, John. Mistress Mary has all the qualities a man could wish for in a wife—she is beautiful and kind, and obedient,” said Sir James, looking her over as if she were a fine horse.

“I would not be so certain about the ‘obedient’ part, Sir James. Thus far, she knows her own mind well and is not afraid to speak it,” said John, his arm around her waist.

“And I must insist that you gentlemen cease talking about me as if I were deaf! I can hear and contribute as well as any,” said Mary. Though she smiled when she spoke the words, both men understood she meant what she said.

“’Tis a fine match. You have done well for yourself, John, to win the cousin of the queen,” said Sir James. “I shall speak to Sir Nicholas Bacon on your behalf. As Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, he will attend to such business. We can only hope the queen will be amenable to the idea.”

“We thank you, Sir James. We look forward to the day of our wedding with much enthusiasm,” said John. Sir James gave a quick bow to Mary and excused himself.

“Do you think he was surprised?” said Mary, reaching for John’s hand.

“I think he might have been stunned! I am surprised he did not volunteer to go directly to the queen himself. But I trust him in this matter. If only I could trust myself,” said John, pulling her to him.

“We must not! We cannot be seen before the queen gives her approval. She will throw us into the Tower as she has others. I fear her wrath!” said Mary.

“Do not fear, dearest. She has no reason to object—I have proven my loyalty with my body,” said John, still holding her close.

“Reason will have nothing to do with it. You are a Catholic and your name is on the ‘dangerous’ list,” said Mary. “And you threaten to take away her ‘Fawn.’”

“I am also a Gentleman Pensioner and the man who saved her life, remember?” said John.

“
I
remember, but will
she
?” said Mary.

Thirty-nine

July 1573

The queen’s progress was heading to Lord Burghley’s lavish home, Theobalds, in Essex, where the queen hoped to be entertained in grand style. The caravan of wagons, carts, litters, horses, and pack mules snaked its way along the road at the pace of a snail. And very like a snail it was, the queen taking everything she would need for her comfort: her gold plate, her dresses, her looking glass, her state papers, even her bathtub. Carrying her house with her was hard work, though others took care of the details. Most of the court was forced to accompany her, though the ladies often complained of the irritations of such travels. Mistresses Mary and Eleanor had left their mounts in order to stretch the kinks out of their legs and enjoy the fresh air, unimpeded by the odor of horse.

“Have you heard anything yet?” said Eleanor as she walked beside Mary.

“Not a word. Sir James has been busy, but I would hope our request would be quickly and easily granted,” said Mary. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath.

“Her Majesty has not mentioned it?” said Eleanor.

“Again, not a word. Her manner toward me is ever the same—if the idea displeased her, she would let me know,” said Mary.

“Of that you can be certain—Her Majesty is not one to keep her feelings inside,” said Eleanor, pausing to wait for Mary.

“I cannot imagine what is taking Sir Nicholas Bacon such a long time to ask … I have not seen him for weeks,” said Mary. “Do you think he is avoiding me?”

“He is Keeper of the Great Seal—a busy man. Do not worry—you saw how easily the queen agreed to my wedding, though she continues to keep me near to her. I rarely get to see my husband. Luckily, she maintains him at court to paint miniatures; otherwise, I would never have any time with him,” said Eleanor.

The women continued to walk, following the wagons loaded with the queen’s clothes. Mary’s job included making certain the queen’s favorite summer gowns were ready for her to wear and to see the garments remained in pristine condition on their travels over the dusty, often muddy roads.

Mary tried to see John, who was riding with the Gentlemen Pensioners surrounding the queen. But the sun was in her eyes and she could not make him out.

“I cannot believe Catspaw is making this progress,” said Eleanor.

“Poor old dear—she told me this would be her last. I do not think she will live beyond another year or so,” said Mary.

“People have been saying that for years and yet here she is! She must have some sort of magic,” said Eleanor, laughing.

The two women walked with others along the road. As they approached a village, townspeople lined the roads for a glimpse of the great Elizabeth, their golden queen. The farmers in their simple clothes cheered at the sight of the caravan, and children crowded around, knowing that a view of the queen would make the memory of a lifetime.

Upon their arrival at Theobalds, the queen took refreshment in her apartments while Mary and the other ladies unpacked the items they would need in the crowded servants’ quarters they were forced to share with Lord Burghley’s staff. They slept two or three to a bed and barely had enough room to change their clothes. To Mary’s dismay, Catspaw had been given no special treatment due to her age. She was to room with Mary and Eleanor, along with several others.

“The queen’s man’s got hisself married, did ye know?” said Catspaw, as she shuffled into the room and plopped down on what Mary had thought was to be
her
bed.

“What are you talking about, old dame?” said Eleanor, unfolding her dresses and trying to find a place to store them so they would not become soiled and wrinkled.

“Leicester, he married Lady Sheffield over a month ago—I heard all about it. They say she was with child but the babe came early and died. And now, he’s scared to death the queen will find out about it! If she does, he’ll be lower than a shit-shovel man,” said Catspaw.

“You have told us this tale before—’tis mere gossip. When will you learn, old woman? You should not meddle in the affairs of your betters,” said Eleanor, taking a comb from her bag and coaxing the snarls from her hair.

“Just keep yer eyes open—you’ll see. Lord Robert looks at Mistress Douglass different. And she is moon-eyed over him more than ever. Just hope the queen don’t find out—there’ll be hell to pay,” said Catspaw.

“Well, she won’t hear such tales from
me,
” said Mary. “Her Majesty has enough to vex her without upsetting her humors with tittle-tattle.”

Mary and Eleanor finished arranging their things. Mary pulled her special box from a velvet bag she had been carrying and hid it in the trunk holding her undergarments. As always, finding a safe place for her treasures was first in her mind. She opened the box for a quick peek inside as she riffled through the shifts and smocks. She always checked to be certain all her treasures were there. She saw the forget-me-nots she and Sir John had picked, the stones she had collected from her picnics on the river when she was a small child, the ringlet of the queen’s hair braided with her own, Oxford’s poem, her other items. Everything was in its place.

A page knocked on the door of the ladies’ quarters.

“Mistress Mary Shelton—the queen is calling for you! Mistress Shelton!” he shouted, his voice cracking.

“Here, boy! I’m here. Nora, I shall see you at the entertainment later this evening. Rest while you can—I fear our travels will tire us,” said Mary as she gathered her skirts and followed the young fellow. She had been to Theobalds before, but to her, the mansion seemed similar to every other great house they visited on progress—rooms upon rooms upon rooms. She continued following the page, though it felt as if he were leading her
away
from the queen’s apartments, rather than to them. Suddenly, she felt someone grab her arm.

“Mary, I have news,” said Sir John, pulling her into a small, damp room off one of the servants’ corridors. He slipped a coin into the boy’s hand and shooed him away.

“What is it, my love? You look unhappy,” said Mary.

“Sir James finally spoke with Bacon. Bacon said our motion will go slowly, for he will not break the matter to the queen until he speaks with you. I fear this means he has little hope the queen will give her consent,” said Sir John.

“I feared as much—her temper is foul these days. And she has told me many times to have a care where I cast my heart,” said Mary, a heaviness forming in her throat.

“My religion cannot help my suit—she grows more suspicious of her Catholic subjects daily. Lord Burghley does not make matters any easier—he sees conspiracy behind every bush,” said John, his voice tense, yet quiet.

“Also, I am a man of modest means—not high among the nobility. You are her cousin—you have already said she wants to marry you off to some duke. Perhaps she already has someone in mind. We must bide our time—more waiting, my love,” said Sir John, grabbing hold of Mary’s hand.

“I do not wish to keep waiting—after tasting the fruits of love, I would have more,” said Mary, caressing his face.

“It is not easy, staying away from you. But we cannot take another chance—we were lucky once. If I should get a baseborn babe on you, she would never forgive that,” said Sir John.

Mary leaned against him. He seemed so steady, strong like the great oak trees of the forest. She wanted to stand against him forever, allow his calm good sense to shelter her.

“I should warn you, my love—I have heard Oxford will be joining us at Theobalds. I know this is not the news you had hoped for—but have no fear. I shall make certain he does not bother you. It is said he continues to try to make the queen forget his, er, well, his body’s indiscretion,” said Sir John, a smile flushing his features.

“Just remembering his gaffe makes me laugh! Oh, I am a poet, too, like Oxford!” said Mary, giggling at her rhyme.

“Come. We must get to our duties before the whole court begins to wonder where we are,” said Sir John, leading her out of the cramped room into the summer light.

Forty

Late July 1573

Even though the summer heat was at its zenith, it seemed the queen would never tire of her revelry: hunting, taking brisk walks through the many gardens surrounding Lord Burghley’s beautiful home, dancing and singing in the evenings, and traveling to nearby villages where the simple people paid the queen homage. The queen kept her ladies busy accompanying her on her adventures, allowing them little time to rest. Even at forty, the queen’s energy was greater than that of most of her ladies, though many were much younger. It was almost as if the queen refused to show any indication that time was marching on, or so Mary thought. Her Majesty seemed to laugh more heartily and dance with more enthusiasm than ever before, kicking up her heels with Sir Christopher as well as Lord Robert, holding each man in thrall, one moment selecting one to chatter with, the next choosing the other to walk her to her private rooms. Though Lord Robert paid the queen the usual amount of attention she required, Mary thought his heart was not in the chivalrous game. He seemed to be going through the motions of love, but without the ardor he had shown earlier. Mary wondered if there was any truth to Old Catspaw’s gossip.

She and Sir John had little time together, for the queen kept the Gentlemen Pensioners busy, too. Sir Christopher had been made captain, so he and the others escorted the queen wherever she went. The men looked handsome in their uniforms, tall and young and fit. Mary sometimes caught Sir John’s eye when they rode behind the queen and he winked at her when he thought no one was looking. Such tender moments were all she had to remember that this was to be her husband, the man she had chosen to love.

Mary, Eleanor, and Lady Douglass had been granted an afternoon’s rest while the queen hunted deer in the nearby forest. The three young women had tidied up the queen’s rooms and were mending some of the queen’s shifts or working embroidery on the queen’s sleeves. They kept cool by having one of the servants fan them and bring them ale and wine. Every once in a while, Mary would sprinkle water over their faces to keep the heat at bay. They had put their hair up with pins so the long locks did not hang heavy and sticky on their necks.

“I will be glad to see September come,” said Lady Douglass, sewing pearls onto the queen’s sleeves of green silk.

“Yes, it will be a relief to feel the cool air after such hot days. No wonder these are called the ‘dog days’—the Dog Star lends his heat to the sun and there is little relief for forty days,” said Mary, pulling a thread through the shift she was mending.

“I fear I shall not be here in September,” said Eleanor with a small smile.

“Why on earth not?” said Mary.

“It is a secret but I shall have to tell it soon. I may as well let the cat slip out now,” said Eleanor in a small voice.

“What is it?” said Mary.

“I am with child! About two months along! We have asked the queen to release me from my duties for one month to prepare for the babe, and she has said yes. Of course, I must return to court immediately in October and remain until I go into my confinement. She has also agreed to be the godmother. Nick is so happy, as am I,” said Mistress Eleanor.

“This is wonderful news, Nora! I shall begin a christening gown for the babe at once!” said Mary, flinging down her sewing and hugging her friend.

“Yes, wonderful,” said Lady Douglass quietly.

“I am especially pleased Her Majesty has agreed to be the godmother—it shows she has blessed our marriage. You know how she can be, sometimes, when one of us weds. But for whatever the reason, she has not given Nick and me much trouble,” said Nora.

“I wonder how she will react when
I
marry,” said Lady Douglass, a strange smile playing about her lips. “I fear she will like it not.”

“If you seek her permission and go through the proper channels, she is most agreeable,” said Nora.

“Oh, I do not think she will be very agreeable to this,” said Lady Douglass, plucking up another pearl to stitch onto the silk.