Legacy: The Acclaimed Novel of Elizabeth, England's Most Passionate Queen -- and the Three Men Who Loved Her (64 page)

“A neat prophecy!” sneered Norfolk. “I suppose we can expect to see

you backing out of this and creeping back under Her Majesty’s skirts.

She named you well—by God, she did—you’re the next best thing to

a lap-dog.”

“Even lap-dogs bite when goaded,” said Leicester shortly. “If you

don’t want my teeth in your precious windpipe, Norfolk, I’d advise you

to remember that.”

He turned on his heel and flung out of the room, leaving Norfolk

alone, tenderly fingering his neck.

t t t

Alone with the Queen in her withdrawing room, Cecil watched his

mistress pace the room in an ecstasy of rage. Her magnificent fury would

have cowed the strongest man and he could not imagine anyone daring

to make a stand against her in this mood, certainly not Leicester whom he

had always suspected of being an arrant coward at heart.

What could have got into the man? Surely he understood by now that

she was the last person in the world to be constrained by violence. Cecil

had never seen her so angry. She was swearing and pacing and working

herself up to such a pitch that he was truly alarmed.

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“Madam, be calm,” he protested at length. “You will bring on a

migraine.”

She pulled up in front of him and smiled grimly.

“I’m not concerned with my head at the moment, Cecil, but with

yours. Your
life
!
Those ignorant clods and cowards who can see no

further than the ends of their noses—how dare they threaten you! By

the living God, I swear I’ll play no Mary to your Riccio! If anyone lays

a hand on you, my friend, I’ll see the whole pack of them hung, drawn,

and quartered for it—and Leicester will be the first to die!”

Cecil smiled faintly and laid a fatherly hand on her arm in an effort to

restrain her.

“I hardly think we need be over concerned with Leicester, madam.

I have rarely seen a man so shaken—indeed, I’d go further and say we

can probably rely on him to betray any further conspiracy as soon as it

hatches. His cowardice could make him a useful ally now.”

She smiled suddenly and to his immense relief sat down in an armchair

by the fireside.

“Yes,” she said thoughtfully, tapping a finger on the arm of her chair.

“As you say, he could be useful to us. When he’s had time to consider his

folly, I shall show him how he can make amends for this outrage. I’m afraid

it won’t make him very popular with his fellow councillors, but that’s no

more than he deserves. He won’t intrigue against you again, Cecil—I give

you the word of a prince on that.” She sighed and sat back in her chair,

suddenly weary. “So—Norfolk wants the Queen of Scots, does he?”

“Nothing has been said directly, madam, but there would appear to be

some support for the match among the Council.”

“And you approve?”

Cecil spread his hands in a noncommittal gesture.

“One could make out a reasonable case for it, certainly, since Norfolk

is your cousin and a loyal Protestant. If Mary forswears the Catholic faith

and marries him it would be possible for you to settle the succession on

her without the risk of civil war. And yet—I have reservations.”

She leaned forward in her chair, holding out a hand to the blazing logs

in the hearth.

“I’m relieved to hear it. Christ’s soul, Cecil, you know Norfolk by

now—the pride of Lucifer and the brains of a sheep. Marry him to Mary

Stuart and you and I will find ourselves in the Tower within a few months.”

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Cecil frowned.

“Then you believe he would forswear his faith?”

“He’d forswear his own mother if it would gain him two crowns. I

will not give my consent to this marriage, Cecil, and, if he ever finds the

courage to ask, that’s exactly what I shall tell him.”

They were silent, staring at each other in the pale March sunshine, a

chequerboard of light dancing on the polished floor between them.

“Guard your back, Cecil,” she said quietly, “for I fear they may yet

move behind mine. And however many I hang for it, it will not bring

you back to me.”

He kissed her hand affectionately.

“Don’t worry about me, madam—I have had long experience of

shifting for myself. If they should force this issue to a head, abandon me

and look to your own safety. I am not indispensable.”

She lifted her hand to touch the tip of his beard—a great deal more

grey, she noticed, than it had been on the day he first entered her service

ten years ago.

“When we have ridden out this storm,” she said gently, “I shall raise

you to the peerage for that.”

t t t

The grey spring light was fading into an early dusk as Robin knelt humbly

before his Queen and begged forgiveness.

“…you were right, madam—I was an arrogant fool and I should have

known better than to meddle in this affair.”

“That is true,” she said calmly, “but now I am going to ask you to

meddle a little longer. I don’t trust Norfolk and I want a spy in his camp.

Will you do that for me, Robin, just to prove how sorry you really are?

And for God’s sake get off your knees—I really can’t bear to squint down

at you any longer.”

He got up abruptly and sat beside her in the window-seat, trying to

read behind her unexpected friendliness.

“You’re asking me to play double agent,” he said slowly. “You realise,

of course, they will probably slit my throat if they find out.”

“They won’t find out,” she said coolly, “not until it’s too late. I want

you to watch Norfolk for me and the moment you sense the possibility

of real danger, you will retire to one of your country mansions apparently

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struck with a mortal illness. There you will be seized by an overwhelming

desire to confess all to your Queen and love, in order that you may

die in my arms with a clear conscience. We will enact a very touching

deathbed scene and I will weep copiously and beg you to consider your-

self forgiven. By the time you have recovered Norfolk will be cooling his

bridegroom’s ardour in the Tower. I doubt that anyone will suspect. No

amount of cowardly grovelling on your part could excite the least surprise

among your peers.”

He laughed suddenly and tried to take her in his arms, but to his

surprise she pushed him away quite roughly.

“I wouldn’t presume too much on my forgiveness if I were you, Robin.”

Before he could recover from that unexpected rebuff, she rose swiftly

and walked away from him, pouring a glass of Alicante wine from a silver

decanter and mixing it with water. She did not offer him any and it was

so rare for her to drink wine that he suddenly understood she must be

far more anxious than her cynical, rather careless manner indicated. So

far there had been no active treason in this, but he trusted her shrewd

political instinct rather more than his own. If she was anxious, he knew

it would be with good cause. He watched for a moment in silence as she

stood before the log fire. The blazing orange flames leapt upwards into

the dark abyss of the chimney and winked on the dozens of tiny diamonds

suspended in the hollow lace folds of her ruff, flashing on the crescent

moon of emeralds which spiked her red curls in place. The finely drawn

face, rose-hued in the firelight, held an endless fascination for him.

“What is it you really fear, madam,” he asked her at last, watching her

steadily. “It’s not Norfolk alone, is it?”

“No.” She turned to look at him over the rim of the silver goblet. “I’m

not afraid of that overweening idiot, but of the effect this business may

have on the North. There’s no backbone of loyalty there, Robin—I’m

just a name without a face. If the Catholics should rise in Mary’s cause

they’ll play straight into Cecil’s hands, and there’ll be no way I can stand

out against the outcry for stronger measures against them. My people are

as dear to me as children, but it’s a foolish parent who spares the rod and

spoils the child. I don’t want to punish or persecute—but I’ll do it, if it

becomes necessary, if there’s no other way. I pray to God it won’t come

to that and that’s why I want you to help me.”

She set her goblet down on the chimney-piece and stared into the fire,

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preoccupied and tense, like a wary cat surveying hostile surroundings. He

crossed the room to her side and looked into the flames with her.

“I am your Eyes,” he said quietly. “I will keep watch for you. And

you know that you can trust me, madam—say that you trust me, that you

depend on my affection.”

He laid his hand on her jewelled sleeve but she looked away.

“I trust no one,” she said softly. “It is the sole reason I have lived

this long.”

“But after all these years you must trust me.” He was aghast. “I may

have worked against Cecil—you more than any know what cause I have

to hate him—but I could never betray you.”

“Any dagger you aim at Cecil’s heart passes first through my own—his

enemies are mine. Between us we have kept peace in this realm now for

ten years and I will not allow you and the rest of your gaggle of short-

sighted self-seekers to make him the butt for your own cowardice and

lack of confidence.”

He had been a fool to aim at Cecil, he could see that now. But

suddenly it no longer seemed important. He reached out and tilted her

chin upwards so that she was looking deep into his dark eyes.

“I can’t bear to see you look at me like that, full of doubt and suspicion.

At least say you trust me a little further than the rest of the pack—for

God’s sake, Elizabeth,
say
it
!”

She said nothing. There were weary lines etched at the corners of

her eyes and lips and she looked as though she wanted to cry, but she

did not do that either. And suddenly he could no longer bear her steely

self-control. He caught her roughly, clamping his mouth over hers in a

savage, bruising kiss; and when at last he released her, he said bitterly,

“Does
that
lie to you, madam?”

“No,” she said quietly and the tears spilt down her pale cheeks at last.

“If I can’t believe that then I may as well be dead.”

t t t

Throughout the tense summer months, Leicester carefully courted the

confidence of his old enemy Norfolk, watching and waiting as the latter

trembled towards treason and a rebellion with the Northern earls of

Northumberland and Westorland. At last, scenting the real possibility of

a rising, Robin felt he had played the farce as far as he dared and retired

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Susan Kay

to his bed at Titchfield Manor, sending an urgent message to the Queen

which begged her to visit him in his last hours.

She came immediately with a very convincing show of panic, and

he confessed his faults loud and long for the benefit of her women, who

could be relied upon to spread the tale.

When she had dismissed her attendants, Leicester sat up against his

pillows.

“So,” she said seriously, “what have you discovered?”

“Not as much as I would like to,” he replied grimly, “but sufficient to

disturb me. I think Norfolk’s working with Spain.”

“Can you prove it?”

Leicester shook his head. “He doesn’t trust me—I think he’s becoming

suspicious. I wouldn’t leave him at liberty much longer, if I were you. Put

him in the Tower before the whole thing gets out of hand.”

Elizabeth smiled and patted his hand on the coverlet.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let him cut your throat for this, nor

Throckmorton and the rest of the pack. You will be perfectly safe as long

as you take your medicine and stay quiet.”

“Medicine?” He eyed her suspiciously. “That wasn’t part of the

bargain, madam.”

“I thought we ought to be convincing.” She reached for the vial she

had brought from her personal physician and poured a large measure.

“Drink it,” she commanded cheerfully.

He took the goblet warily and hesitated.

“Drink it!”

He swallowed a large mouthful and gagged.

“Christ! What is it? Poison?”

“It’s only a purge—roughly sufficient to keep you on the close-stool

for the rest of the day.” She got off the bed briskly and handed him his

velvet chamber robe. “I’d move if I were you, my love. I believe it works

quite quickly.”

He got out of bed and glared at her as she wrapped the gown solici-

tously round his shoulders.

“We can’t have you catching a chill while you sit there,” she said gaily.

“Is this your idea of a joke?” he demanded.

“As a matter of fact I thought it might save your neck. Anyone who

doubts your condition has only to come in and see you there.”

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He tied the belt around his waist and went to draw the curtains around

the close-stool.

“I hope you’ve got something equally fitting in store for Norfolk,” he

grumbled meaningfully over his shoulder.

“Leave Norfolk to me,” she said and went out of his room.