Legacy: The Acclaimed Novel of Elizabeth, England's Most Passionate Queen -- and the Three Men Who Loved Her (17 page)

But she was not Queen; and it began to look as though she never

would be. The mere thought was treason; but were these confessions

treason, after all? They were extremely damaging, they would certainly

mean her reputation, possibly even her place in the succession, but as long

as she stuck to her ground and denied everything it was just possible that

they might not mean her life. Only a lawyer could pick his way through

the legal niceties of her perilous plight and she had no one to advise or

counsel her, nothing to rely on except her own instinct for survival, and

that instinct told her to hold her tongue.

The tension in the room grew by the minute as they waited for her to

speak, but she said nothing.

“Mrs. Ashley was at first staunch in her refusal to speak,” Sir Robert

burst out at last, aware that he was losing once again in this war of nerves.

“She and Parry were brought face to face. When he stood by what he had

written she called him ‘False Wretch’ and reminded him he had promised

never to confess it to death.”

Her eyes dropped to the final paragraph of Kat’s testament, a pathetic

plea for removal from a cell where the window had no glass—Kat who

could not bear the cold, who spent the winter months scurrying from

one fireplace to the next. In her mind she saw that forlorn, harassed little

woman stuffing the window with straw in a vain attempt to shut out

the knifing February wind. And she saw Parry too, plump, complacent,

garrulous Parry, framed in a muddle of account books with the chain

of office swinging portentously. Parry, self-important at his furtive little

dealings with the Admiral, wooing harmless tales from the governess on a

cold Christmas evening assisted by a certain something to loosen tongues

and keep out the cold. A domestic life where promises came easily and

did not stand the threat of torture—“
she prayed that I would not disclose

these matters…and I said I would not…I had rather be pulled with wild horses
.”

A fierce protective affection welled up in Elizabeth and swept away

her own terror like driftwood before a mighty wave. She swore to herself

that if it was the last thing she ever did she would get those two pitiful

creatures out of their wretched plight.

Folding Parry’s confession, she handed it back with measured civility.

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“It was a great matter for him to promise such a promise and then

break it,” she said calmly.

A purplish hue rose in Sir Robert’s leathery cheeks as he listened to

that cryptic little line and knew that the most powerful weapon in his

arsenal had failed him miserably. Weeks he had been here, hounding,

spying, threatening, an influential member of the Privy Council and as

many agents and devices as he saw fit to employ, all the skill and cunning

amassed during a lifetime of power politics to be used against an oppo-

nent who was still in the schoolroom, and it had gained him absolutely

nothing. Without her own confession the signed testimonies of Ashley

and Parry alone would be insufficient evidence to convict an heir to the

throne. And now at last he saw she understood that, and he knew that for

all the good his presence here would do he might as well pack his bags

and ride back to court in humble defeat.

He still believed she was guilty, that the reason they all sang the same

song was because they had set the note before, but somewhere beneath

his fury and his indignation there moved the absurd impulse to salute her.

Well, he had done his best and he could do no more. It was up to the

Council now to find the means to break her will.

Personally, he was beginning to believe it couldn’t be done.

t t t

The Duchess of Somerset rounded on her husband like a cat about to strike.

“What the devil do you mean, ‘
nothing more can be done against her
’?

You’re surely not about to let a chit of fifteen get the better of you.”

The Protector threw up his hands in a gesture of frustration.

“I’ve done everything in my power to get the truth out of her.”

“Not
everything
. You’ve not appointed a new governess yet.”

The Protector frowned. “I can’t think that will make any difference.

She defends the Ashley woman at every turn. Why, I doubt if she would

even accept—”

“Accept?” screamed the Duchess. “God’s death, we’re talking about

an accused traitor, a girl without a friend or an ounce of influence to her

name and you concern yourself about what she will
accept!
Have you gone

soft in the head with all your reforms?”

“My dear, you are too shrill—” the Duke protested nervously. “Do

you want the servants to hear?”

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Susan Kay

The Duchess lowered her voice an octave in scale and came to stand

over him.

“When you fight a cat you use a cat’s claws. She defends the Ashley

woman, you say? Very well, then, make it plain to her by appointing a

new governess that she’ll never see Ashley again. I have the very woman

in mind.”

“You have?” He was startled.

The Duchess smiled unpleasantly. “Tyrwhitt’s wife would be admi-

rably suited to the post.”

The Duke blinked and cleared his throat.

“But Lady Tyrwhitt was the late Queen Katherine’s devoted friend.

It would hardly be fitting to appoint a woman who hates the sight of

the girl.”

“Did I say it would be fitting?”

“Admirably suited—your very words, my dear.”

“Oh, good God, man, do I really need to elaborate further?”

The Duke flushed, like a schoolboy who has been rapped across the

knuckles for daydreaming.

“No,” he said grimly, and went over to his desk to write out the order.

“You don’t need to do that. I take your meaning.”

t t t

Across the darkening room the eyes of Elizabeth Tyrwhitt met those of

Elizabeth Tudor like a clash of swords.

“I don’t recognise you as my governess, madam, and I will not obey

you. I will have no other governess but Mrs. Ashley.”

Lady Tyrwhitt bridled like an angry tabby cat.

“This is a fine welcome, madam!”

“Were you expecting one?”

“I can tell you here and now that this post was no choice of mine.

But I am commanded here by the Lords of the Council and I expect you

to accept my services thankfully.”
You will be sorry if you don’t
! added the

stony-grey eyes.

Elizabeth clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms to prevent

herself from bursting into angry, frightened tears.

“I have not so demeaned myself that the Council needs to put any

more governesses over me.”

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“I regret to say that is open to question. And having been governed by

such a person as Mrs. Ashley I’m sure you need not be ashamed to have

any honest woman in that place.”

The room was darkening towards evening and a thin blinding rain

obscured the tall windows. Elizabeth swung round upon Sir Robert who

was skulking by the hearth, trying to pretend he had no part in this dispute.

“Sir, the world will take it as proof of my guilt if I am appointed a

new governess so quickly. I shall be condemned as a great criminal. Is that

what the Council wish?”

“Your age and danger considered it is best for you to have one without

an hour’s delay,” the gentleman orated pompously. He looked at her

sharply and added in a feeling tone, “By God, madam, if I had my way

you would have
two!
”

“I shall remember that,” she said coldly and walked out of the room

without their leave.

Lady Tyrwhitt stared at the closed door and exploded with rage.

“Oh, she’ll remember that, will she? When she’s Queen no doubt!

Good God, she needs a governess to teach her manners! The brazen little

bitch—I remember her at Chelsea, tossing her head at the Admiral and

breaking that poor woman’s heart. I never could understand why the

Queen allowed it to go on for so long.”

Sir Robert tossed another log on the fire and eased himself stiffly into

a chair. It was hard work grinding down the Princess’s spirit and he had

had a long weary day of it.

“I’ve had a great deal to put up with,” he complained. “Even the

Council have no real idea what it’s been like. I can tell you, Bess, I’m

worn out by this whole business.”

“Oh, you!” sniffed his wife officiously. “You’ve been too soft with

her, I’ve said so all along. It’s time we took off the velvet gloves and

tightened the vice—let her know how badly things are going for the

Admiral. There’s more than one way to kill a cat—but then men are no

good at this. At least the Council had the sense to see it in time. I’m here

to succeed where you’ve failed, Robert. One week, that’s all I’ll need

with the little madam and she’ll be only too ready to talk. You see if I’m

not right.”

t t t

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Lady Tyrwhitt settled to her appointed task with a will. She haunted her

charge day and night like a malicious shadow, taunting and insinuating,

belitttling her servants whom she vigorously defended, and the Admiral

of whom she dared not even speak. Lady Tyrwhitt saw that that was the

note to hammer home and her low spiteful voice ranted out, spitting filth

and venom against him until the last thread of Elizabeth’s steely control

gave way and she flew out suddenly in his defence, declaring that she

would never believe he was a traitor.

“Your Grace’s opinion carries no weight,” sneered the older woman.

“All the houses of the Lord Admiral have been sold and his servants are

dispersed. His guilt is obvious to all.”

“But not yet proven,” said Elizabeth on a gasp. “They haven’t dared

to bring him to trial yet, have they?”

Lady Tyrwhitt smiled contemptuously.

“Your Grace’s innocence astounds me. Surely you know that an Act of

Attainder can be passed against him without the necessity of open trial.”

Elizabeth stared at her, appalled.

“The King would never allow—”

“The King will see justice done, against his own kin if need be! Uncles,

sisters
—none are above a charge of treason and they will answer as any

other subject. Know this for sure, my lady—it will be the axe for him in

the end. He has no hope left in this world.”

From the doorway the new governess watched as Elizabeth sat down

at the table where the morning meal had been served. She sat for a long

time, white-faced, staring at nothing, then at last pushed her plate away

untouched. When the same thing happened at dinner and supper, Lady

Tyrwhitt reported that she was making progress and Sir Robert wrote

triumphantly to inform the Council: “She begins now to droop a little.”

But neither spiritual harassment nor physical weakening loosened her

tongue. She remained silent until the day she finally sat down and wrote

the letter which defeated the Protector as surely as if she had dealt him

a knife blow. She demanded that a royal proclamation should be issued

throughout the land, clearing her good name. If she did not receive it she

would be ashamed to ask it again, “because I see you are not well minded

toward it.”

It was a bold personal accusation and the Protector wilted beneath it,

knowing he had no option now but to capitulate to her demand. She was

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appealing to her greatest strength, the goodwill of the English people, and

he dared not enter a contest against her on those terms in the absence of

any firm evidence with which to convict her of treason. He could not

fight her any longer, incredible though it seemed that a girl of fifteen

should take on the entire strength of the government and win. He issued

that proclamation as meekly as if he had received a royal command and

silenced his wife, for the first time in their married life, with no more

than a look.

Elizabeth received news of her victory in silence. She had saved her

life. All that remained now was to wait for the act which would rob it of

all meaning.

The Bill of Attainder had been passed against the Admiral and he had

faced thirty-three separate charges, many of them so petty that it was a

wonder they dared even to write them. But she knew his end could not

be long delayed. The Tyrwhitts had said there was no hope of a reprieve.

In the still silence of her room her affection for Kat was now the only

thing which goaded her into activity. She sat and wrote to the Council a

long desperate letter pleading for the governess’s life and freedom “
because

she has been with me a long time and has taken great pains to bring me up in

honesty and learning…
”

She stared at that line and bit her lip, remembering with anguish just

how great those pains had been, how lucky she had been to be cared for

by a woman whose heart was twice the size of her brain.

On and on scratched her pen across the sheet of paper that blurred

before her eyes. Her head hammered from lack of sleep and her mind