Virginia Henley (12 page)

Robert, who had kept his eyes on Elizabeth since she arrived in the chapel, saw her lips press together and knew that the bishop’s railing against magnificent garments was not going down well with her. He heard the queen clear her throat, a sign for the bishop to move on. Sadly, the next subject the church-man chose was duty.

“Both those in low and high places have a clear and pressing duty to those who come after them. So that our beloved England does not fall into chaos and religious strife, it is the duty of the highest in the land to name a successor to the throne.”

“Silence, sirrah!” Elizabeth jumped to her feet in outrage. “That subject is forbidden ...
forbidden,
do you hear me?”

Robert, with the letter from James burning a hole in his flesh beneath his doublet, wanted to sink through the chapel floor.

“I am in no mood to sign my death warrant, good Bishop. If you wish to keep your place in my church, or
any
church, you will never touch on this banned subject again.” She stalked from the chapel with the agility of a woman in her prime.

“She’ll need a deal of soothing,” Kate concluded. “I’ll do my best to calm her before your audience, Robert. But don’t be late. Tardiness is another thing that infuriates her.”

Robert knew that his sister believed the audience was to remind the queen that he had not been paid. Only Hepburn knew that he carried a letter from the King of Scotland. He devoutly hoped that James was not crass enough to ask outright that Elizabeth name him her successor—at least not in this first letter.

Elizabeth kept him waiting in the anteroom of her Privy Chamber for almost two hours before he was admitted to her presence. He went down on his knees before her and suddenly realized he had not brought a jewel or other costly gift with which to appease her. He waited for permission to rise, but the queen did not give it.

“So, Cousin Robert, you bring a woman to my Court uninvited and flaunt her before all. Does this female have a name?”

Her words shocked him to the core. He was a man of almost thirty; surely he did not need anyone’s permission to court a woman? “Her name is Lady Widdrington, Your Majesty.”

“A wily widow. Next you’ll be sneaking off to marry without my consent.” Her tone warned that he should deny such an accusation.

He suddenly saw Liz through the queen’s eyes. Elizabeth could not bear the fact that Liz was young and pretty, with glorious burgundy-colored hair, and that he was sexually attracted to her.
The old harridan is seething with jealousy. She’ll keep me on my knees until I swear Liz means nothing to me.
Robert opened his mouth to protest and started to get up from his knees.

“Remain where you are, sir, and address me only when I give you permission to speak. Lady Widdrington is not welcome at my Court. Never bring her here again, Sir Robert. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly clear, Your Majesty.”

“You may withdraw,” she said with icy finality.

Chapter Seven

T
he audience was a disaster from beginning to end! It was impossible for me to give her James’s letter,” Robert told Patrick as they walked along the Thames at Richmond. “The hideous old bitch kept me on my knees the entire time and forbade me to speak. She was consumed by insane jealousy the moment she spotted me with Liz last night. She has forbidden her the Court.”

Patrick, who had experienced a sense of foreboding all day, nodded his understanding and allowed Robert to continue.

“Elizabeth had a temper tantrum in chapel this morning when Bishop Bancroft touched on the subject of the succession. I knew I was sunk long before I had my audience with her.”

“The bishop would not dare approach the subject unless he had been instructed to do so by the power behind the throne.”

“You mean Robert Cecil, her Secretary of State?”

“Precisely. We need an appointment with Cecil.”

“My father should be able to arrange that, but he will expect me to tell him why I need to speak with the secretary.”

“Cecil controls the Treasury. Your warden fees are overdue.”

“I’ll go to Blackfriars tonight and speak with Father. I should have visited him the first day I arrived in London.”

“Tell him you’ve been paying court to a lady. Why not take Liz with you and introduce Lord Hunsdon to your future wife?”

“Judas! How am I to tell Liz that she’s forbidden the Court?”

“Emphasize that Elizabeth is jealous of her beauty. Any lady would be flattered to learn that a queen envies her. I am sure that if you let Liz know you are ready to defy your sovereign majesty for her, she will be the happiest female alive.”

“Perhaps I should not tell her she is forbidden the Court. I find it difficult to deceive a woman,” Robert admitted.

Patrick laughed. “If you intend to take a wife, you will need to practice deceit. In any case, Liz hasn’t been forbidden the city of London. The streets are filled with fabulous shops, theatres and eating houses. Ladies have a mania for shopping.”

“I’ll do it! I shall take Liz to Father’s house in Blackfriars tonight. Will you come too, Patrick?”

“I’ll come to London, but I’ll sleep aboard the
Hepburn Rose.
”

William Seymour, without a servant at his heels, made his way from the Thames water stairs to the New Temple, where many London goldsmiths were housed. They did a brisk business selling precious metals, jewelry and plate, but also made handsome profits from money lending. Before Seymour could enter the goldsmith’s shop of Isaac Abraham, the door opened and his friend Henry Somerset stepped into the street. “Hal, don’t tell me you are buying a jewel to lure Lady Catherine to her deflowering?”

“Not bloody likely,” Somerset said grimly. “I’m here for the same reason you are, Will; to borrow money against my inheritance.”

Seymour’s false smile vanished. “I hope you were successful!”

“Not at the first two goldsmiths I approached. They refused me on the grounds that I had already exceeded my limit on earlier loans. Bloody Jews ought to be run out of the country!”

Seymour glanced at the sign above the door. “Abraham came through for you?”

“Not without charging me an arm and a bloody leg. The old thief wanted twenty percent and finally settled for eighteen when I told him I would shortly become the Earl of Worcester.”

“But your father’s in the best of health,” Seymour protested.

“Yes, worst luck! But Abraham took me at my word.”

“Then this is where I shall start.”

“I’ll wait for you. I spotted a jeweled dagger in a shop at the far end of the Temple that quite took my fancy.”

When the two met half an hour later, Henry Somerset commiserated with his friend. “I can see by your dejected look that you were turned down.”

“The name Seymour is like a bloody millstone around my neck. When I mentioned I was heir to the Earldom of Hertford, Abraham reminded me that my father stood in line before me and that it would be a donkey’s age before I became an earl. The devil of it is that he’s right. Father is in no danger of sticking his spoon in the wall, and my obstinate grandfather may outlive us both!”

“Cheer up. Perhaps you’ll win at primero tonight.”

“I’ve lost two thousand in the last fortnight and have no way of paying off any of my gambling debts.”

“Christ, William, you’re down to your last resort: marriage! Still, I can’t feel sorry for you when I think of all the wealth Arbella will come into when her harridan of a grandmother is six feet under. The Countess of Shrewsbury owns half the land in England, and the old bitch must be close to seventy.”

“Seventy-five, actually,” Seymour acknowledged morosely. “You’re right, Hal. I’m afraid I have no other choice.”

Patrick read the message from Robert Carey confirming that arrangements had been made for him to meet with Cecil at his offices in the Savoy Palace on Wednesday afternoon. Since no mention had been made of Hepburn being included, Robert thought it best that they meet outside the Savoy.

When the two met at the appointed time, Robert said, “Your advice regarding Liz was right. My father approves of her wholeheartedly and wants to see me married in his lifetime.”

Patrick gripped his friend’s shoulder. “Then do it soon.”

Robert looked into Hepburn’s dark eyes and understood his meaning. He had been shocked to see how much his father had aged. He tried to lighten the mood. “Liz is off shopping today with a pair of Hunsdon footmen in tow to carry her purchases.”

“You are uneasy about this meeting with Cecil,” Patrick said bluntly.

“I am,” Robert said earnestly. “My audience with the queen went so badly, I’m afraid of saying the wrong thing to Cecil. Perhaps you should see him alone first?”

“We will see him together. A united force of two against one guarantees that we will prevail.”

Robert was relieved. “You always exude confidence, Patrick.”

Busy as he was with affairs of state, Robert Cecil did not keep them waiting. Within thirty minutes they were ushered into his inner office, which was lined with books and journals. It had no less than three desks, all piled with files, papers and documents.

“Sir Robert, thank you for granting me an appointment on short notice. May I present Patrick Hepburn, Lord Stewart? My father did not tell you his lordship would accompany me today, because he did not know. This meeting is strictly confidential.”

Cecil indicated that they should sit. “I have learned to expect the unexpected, gentlemen.”

“You were High Steward of Cambridge the year I attended.” Patrick sat down immediately. He had no wish to tower over the slightly built statesman with the deformed shoulder, whom the queen addressed as
little man.
The sobriquet was appallingly insensitive, and Patrick divined that though Cecil served Elizabeth better than any minister who had come before him, he could have no love for her. “At the beginning of May, King James asked me to find an honest and honorable man whom he could trust to carry a letter to Queen Elizabeth. I recommended Robert Carey.”

“With all due respect, my lord, though Her Majesty the queen is my cousin, she made it impossible for me to deliver the letter that the King of Scotland entrusted to me. Lord Stewart concluded that we should seek your counsel,” Carey declared.

Now that Patrick was in Cecil’s presence, he could tell that the man who sat before him had one of the greatest intellects he had ever encountered. He studied the hooded eyes as he tried to merge his mind with Cecil’s and realized he would have only partial success. Sir Robert was too clever, too shrewd, too guarded, to allow another to share all of his thoughts.

“If I took the letter from you, it could be construed as secret communication with the King of Scotland.”

“There are only four people who know of this letter, Sir Robert, three of whom are in this room,” Patrick stated. “More harmonious relations between the two realms would benefit both countries and both monarchs and be advantageous to you personally.”

“It would certainly be in the King of Scotland’s best interests to be named as the Queen of England’s successor. But Elizabeth is my sovereign and I am her loyal servant. I cannot deceive her.”

“Making plans for the good of the State, in an area of policy in which the queen herself has steadily refused to give guidance, is not conspiracy; it is statesmanship,” Hepburn insisted.

Carey spoke up. “I would not dream of asking that you deceive Her Majesty in any way, Sir Robert. All I ask is that you personally deliver James’s letter into Elizabeth’s hands.”

“As the queen’s Principal Secretary, I will accept the letter.”

With relief, Carey took the well-sealed envelope from his doublet and handed it to Cecil. “Thank you, my lord. You have removed a heavy burden from my conscience.”

Cecil nodded. “Give my regards to your father.”

“Lord Hunsdon made the appointment so that his son could collect his warden’s fee, which has been in arrears for a year, but I fear that Robert is too polite to broach the subject.”

The corner of Cecil’s mouth lifted. “While you do not suffer from a surfeit of politeness, Lord Stewart.”

“No, Sir Robert, I have learned to ask for what is owed me.”

“I’ll have one of my clerks prepare a draft for your fees, Carey, if you will come this way.”

“I think we should leave separately,” Patrick said decisively.

Hepburn waited patiently until Robert Cecil returned alone to his inner office. He had decided to persuade him to become James Stuart’s ally. “Sir Robert, I am not speaking treason; I am speaking truth when I tell you that Elizabeth Tudor does not have years to live. It would be prudent to enter into communications with King James. Do not allow your illustrious career to be jeopardized by the queen’s death. Approach James and safeguard your position in the state. It would be a simple matter for a man of your intellect to gain his trust and then guide him. Jamie already considers you the king here, in effect.”

“Are you asking me to entrust you with letters?”

“No. Robert Carey is your man. Though his integrity would prevent him from reading them, the letters should be written in cipher. Carey would guard the correspondence with his life. His warden’s post will allow him to travel between London and the Scottish Border without comment. The king trusts him.” Patrick urged, “Demonstrate to James that he can trust you, too.”

“Thank you for coming, Lord Stewart, I will give your suggestions some thought.”

Patrick stood, shook Cecil’s hand and delivered his clincher. “If you do not soon forge a bond with James, your rivals will. Once the great northern Border lords learn of Elizabeth’s frailty, they will rush to offer the king their friendship and support.”

Hepburn left the Savoy and walked toward the river. He noticed two elegantly dressed courtiers emerge from Worcester House, which was directly behind the Savoy Palace. He immediately recognized William Seymour, Lady Arbella’s lover, but pondered over the identity of Seymour’s companion. It didn’t take him long to deduce that it was Worcester’s son, Henry Somerset. Patrick’s instincts urged him to follow them and he seldom ignored his intuitive senses. The men hailed a river craft going westward and Patrick took a wherry sailing in the same direction.