Queen Elizabeth's Daughter (38 page)

She saw a guard walking past, likely off duty by the way he slumped.

“Sir! Good sir!” she called in an imitation of Constance’s speech.

“What is it, woman?” said the guard, hardly slowing his pace.

“I would see one of the prisoners—how do I get in?” she said.

“Depends. Is he a nobleman? If so, I can get you in—for a price,” he said.

“Yes, he’s a Gentleman Pensioner, least he
was
. How much?” she said.

“How much you got?” he said.

“Half a crown. Will it do?” she said.

“Nicely,” he said, holding out his hand.

She gave him the coin and followed as he headed back to the Tower.

*   *   *

The smell in the stone corridor was musty and damp and foul. Mary pulled the scarf more tightly around her face to block the odor. The jakes for the prison must have been nearby. She followed the guard as he climbed up and up and up, the stairs circling about like a corkscrew. Finally, they reached the third floor and the guard opened a heavy wooden door.

“This is the nice part of the Tower, miss. Where all the gents stay. Some even have full apartments, though I think this Sir John of yers has merely two rooms. Go all the way to the end of this hall and his door is second on the right. If anyone asks, tell them Captain Alexander let you in,” said the guard.

“Thank you so much, Captain Alexander,” said Mary.

“I ain’t the captain—just be sure to mention his name,” he said with a wink.

Mary heard his steps circling back down the stairs. She walked forward. It was quiet for the most part, but she could hear an occasional roar from the royal menagerie. She and the queen had visited the exotic animals there when she was a child—it had been one of her favorite places to go, even if the beasts were housed in the dreaded Tower.

She came to John’s door and knocked. There was a short pause and then the door opened.

“Oh John!” she said when she saw him. His hair was mussed and his face bruised and beaten. He moved slowly and she could see his body was also hurt. She hurried into his arms and felt him flinch when she touched him.

“Mary! What are you doing here? Have you gone mad?” said John, putting his arms around her.

“I had to come, my love. I had to see you!” she said, sobbing against his chest, which seemed thinner than when she had last been in his arms.

“You should not have come—it is too dangerous!” he said, pushing her from him to look at her.

“I should have let you go to the block without trying to save you? What sort of wife would that be?” she said.

“A smart, safe wife,” he said, pulling her to him again, kissing her.

He put his arm around her and led her farther into the sitting chamber.

“Allow me to welcome you to my humble abode—not as commodious as Holme Lacy but it has served well enough for a traitor,” he said.

“Are you a traitor, John? Please tell me the truth—I have played our lives over and over in my mind. I admit, it is possible our whole marriage has been part of a plot. No, say nothing. Let me finish. I must know the truth, even if it hurts me. I will still try to save you because I love you. But you must tell me everything; it’s the only way for us to come out of this alive. We must be honest with each other,” said Mary.

“Well, I shall not have to be honest for long—a week at most,” he said, smiling.

“Do not joke. I have been eaten up with worry, and now, now that I finally hold you in my arms again, you make light of this disaster,” she said.

“Better that than moaning away, wishing for impossible dreams to come true. You were my dream, Mary. I should have known something so good could not last,” he said.

“You have not answered my question. Are you a traitor? Were you involved in a plot against the queen?” she said, standing away from him.

“Look at me, my love. Look into my face. I tell you God’s honest truth—I have never been, nor will I ever be, a traitor to Her Majesty. I do not know why they think I am. I heard the evidence Walsingham presented. He told me about letters and ciphers he had found, all in my hand. He was convincing; I almost believed him myself. Yet, I knew nothing about any letters. I did not write a letter to a Jesuit priest, much less the dozens Walsingham held. As you can see, they tried their best to get a confession from me. But I had nothing to confess,” said John.

Mary looked at him, studied his face, his eyes. She looked again at the bruises and bloodied spots on his face and neck. She said nothing.

“Dearest, I swear to you on the lives of my children that I have done nothing against our queen,” he said quietly.

She knew, then, that he was innocent.

And she knew what she must do to try to save him.

She went to him and kissed him more fully. He responded quickly and his hands began to rove over her.

“You look beautiful even dressed in cotton and dust,” he mumbled, nuzzling her neck.

“I imagine I look a fright … but we have no time for kisses—I must be about my business. I shall speak with Lord Robert—if anyone has a way to the queen’s heart, it is he,” said Mary.

“He is not in the highest favor at present. I heard the Lady Sheffield delivered him a fine son,” said John, still caressing her.

“If that is true, things might be better than I had hoped. If I know Lord Robert, he will have sent Lady Douglass to the country for her lying-in. And soon, he will ignore her and his baseborn son. For he knows the queen is the source of everything he holds dear—Kenilworth, his fine clothes, his power. And though he takes other women for his pleasure, it is the queen who has his heart,” said Mary.

“I hope you are right in this, my love. For if you are not, I fear for both of us,” said John.

“Kiss me once again for luck, dearest. Then I shall be off,” said Mary.

*   *   *

Mary and Thomas found rooms at Cross Keys Inn on Gracechurch Street. Mary had bundled her clothes along with her treasure box in an old woolen cloth, scratchy and moth-eaten. She did not know exactly why she had brought her special box with her, except she never went anywhere without it. Having it gave her comfort and courage. It reminded her of all she had been through as a child: the loss of her parents, the frightening journey to London, the terrifying bustle of people at court. But the contents also spoke to her of the good things from her childhood: gifts from the queen, pretty rocks she had gathered with Lord Robert, flowers from Tom Wotton, memories she cherished. The box reminded her that, even though she was without parents, she was loved.

As she placed the box on a rough-hewn table, she remembered the ring the queen had woven from their hair so long ago. Why had she not thought of it before? She imagined them on that picnic, Lord Robert cutting the strands of hair, the queen laughing as she made them each a ring. The queen had told her if she ever needed help, show the ring to Her Majesty. No matter what the problem, the queen promised to do all in her power to assist Mary.

Mary quickly snatched the box from the table to make sure the lock of hair was still there. Carefully, she opened the painted lid. Inside, the contents were jumbled together. Slowly, she searched through her treasures and there, at the very bottom of the box, was the ringlet of black and red hair, braided long ago on a summer’s day. She picked it up and held it to her heart. Surely the queen would remember this! Surely if she begged and showed her this ring, the queen would relent and John would be saved. Mary carefully replaced the ring at the bottom of the box and laid the other items on top of it. Then, feeling more hopeful than she had in weeks, she began her nightly ritual: rubbing her teeth with a cloth, washing her face, and making use of the nearby chamber pot. Then, hope blooming in her heart once again, she crawled into the clean-looking sheets of the inn, happy she had the means to pay for a nice place to stay and glad she did not have to share her bed with a stranger, or even worse, Thomas. She’d had to pay highly for that privilege and she was thankful she’d been able to afford such luxury.

*   *   *

The next day, Mary left Thomas once again at Cheapside, selling the few vegetables he had left over from the day before. She was on her way to Leicester House to speak with Lord Robert. When she finally arrived, she was disappointed to find he was not there, but at Whitehall Palace with the queen. Mary began the long trek to Whitehall.

As she approached the palace, she wrapped her scarf more fully over her face, looking like a woman who had suffered from the smallpox and was trying to hide her disfigurement. She knew if anyone recognized her, she would be hauled to the Tower herself. She first entered through the kitchen gardens where the herbs and flowers grew in their full abundance. The kitchens were filled with bustling cooks, stirrers, bakers, and others who went about their business quickly, shouting out instructions or telling humorous tales as they created food fit for a queen. Mary ducked through and had almost made it when one of the big men who turned the spits pulled her arm.

“What are you doing in here, lass?” he said roughly.

“I’m lost sir, looking for the laundry,” said Mary, her voice shaking.

“Looks like you could do with a washing—go out that door yonder, then straight down the hall to the left. The laundry will be at the end. Now, get out of here!” said the man, swatting her bottom as she turned in the direction in which he had pointed.

She hurried down the corridor and found the large washroom at the end, just as he had said. It smelled of lye and lavender, and enormous crocks were filled with water of various colors. Next door was the folding room and Mary could see women pressing the clothes into neat piles. She then followed the back hall that led to the queen’s apartments, the hall she knew Catspaw would take to bring the queen’s clean shifts. That is,
if
Catspaw were still alive and
if
she were still able to work. Mary hid in a small alcove and waited, saying the same prayer over and over—God help me, God help me.

After most of the day had passed, Mary heard slow, soft footfalls coming toward her. She peeked out to see if it was Catspaw.

“What you doing in there, girl? Like to scared me into my grave,” said Catspaw.

“Do you remember me, Catspaw? Mistress Mary Shelton?” said Mary. She saw the old woman’s eyes were covered with blue and wondered if Catspaw could see at all.

“You should not be here—the queen banished you! Are you mad?” said Catspaw.

“Here, let me help you with those. Yes, she did banish me, but my husband, Sir John, is in the Tower. I hope to get him out,” said Mary as she took the bundle from the old woman’s arms.

“How? Nobody gets out of the Tower unless they be carried out,” said Catspaw.

“I shall ask the queen to help me,” said Mary, leading the way to the queen’s apartments.

“Her Grace does not love you, mistress. I never saw her so furious as the day she found out about your marriage! They say she broke your finger. Is it true?” said Catspaw.

Mary turned to face the woman and held up her hand to show her little finger, which was slightly bent in comparison to the surrounding digits. She nodded at Catspaw.

“I’ll be … I knew she had a temper—I’ve gotten swats on the head enough when she didn’t like the way I washed her night shifts—but never thought her strong enough to break a bone,” said Catspaw.

“She’s stronger than she looks,” said Mary.

They were coming to the door of the queen’s apartments. Mary stopped.

“I need to see Lord Robert. As soon as possible. Can you get him that message? You don’t need to tell him who I am—just say a young lady is desperate to speak with him in the laundry passage. Tell him I’ll wait until he comes, even if I have to spend the night here. Can you do that, Catspaw?” said Mary.

“I’ll do it. But you mustn’t go anywhere—for if I send an important man like Lord Robert to you, you should be here. Else he’ll have my head!” said Catspaw.

“Thank you, oh, thank you. I have a half-crown for you—but I do not have it with me. I promise, though, once I see Lord Robert, I shall bring it to you,” said Mary, hugging the old woman.

“I don’t want any coins—the queen is generous to me in my old age. You are young—you’ll need the money,” said Catspaw.

With that, she was gone.

Fifty-seven

July 4, 1574

Mary had no idea she would have to wait in the laundry hall for two days. She hid in an alcove whenever she heard footsteps and slept fitfully while the palace grew quiet at night. Luckily, Catspaw had a kind heart and brought her chunks of bread with light ale a couple of times. But, even with such generosity, Mary’s stomach growled and complained that it needed more sustenance. She feared it might make such a noise as to give away her presence but, luckily, most of the grumbling took place after everyone had gone to bed.

Finally, just when Mary was ready to give up all hope, she heard heavy footsteps followed by lighter, slower ones.

“She’s in here, Your Worship, just as I said. I’ll be on me way now,” said Catspaw as she ushered Lord Robert into the alcove.

Mary’s hands went immediately to her hair—she had not combed it and it was still dusty from her drive to London. She felt her face grow warm as she thought about how she must look to Lord Robert, himself one of the best-dressed men at court. She curtsied and remained bowed low.

“Oh Fawn, what has happened to you?” said Lord Robert kindly.

She had not expected gentleness, but rather consternation at what she had done. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as she ran into Lord Robert’s arms.

“My dear girl, let it out—that’s it. Let those tears flow. I know what has happened to your Sir John. And I know what it feels like to be banished from court, away from the one light in our land—our Elizabeth,” said Lord Robert, cradling her as if she were still a child.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hands and stopped her sobbing. She had not come to cry but to ask his help. She would do that with as much dignity as she could muster.

“I know we have done wrong in marrying without the queen’s permission, milord. And we are very sorry. But I swear to you, upon my honor and all that is holy, my husband is no traitor. Yes, he is a Catholic, but he loves the queen. Of this, I am certain,” said Mary.