Legacy: The Acclaimed Novel of Elizabeth, England's Most Passionate Queen -- and the Three Men Who Loved Her (27 page)

my bare hands. But of course I should not have been surprised—her

mother was a spleeny Lutheran.”

Renard discreetly placed his hands behind his back, controlling a

sudden urge to rub them with glee. This response was rather better than

he had hoped for.

“I did warn you, madam. The Lady Elizabeth is sly and clever, she will

be plotting against you at the first opportunity.”

“No doubt,” said Mary shortly. “What do you suggest I do to prevent it?”

“What I have most respectfully suggested for some time now,

madam—stabilise your position with a wise marriage.”

“By which you mean Prince Philip?” She frowned. “Gardiner will

oppose it in Council, you know. He still favours Courtenay.”

“With respect,” remarked Renard smoothly, “the good bishop was many

years imprisoned in the Tower during your late brother’s reign—he has lost

touch with affairs in Europe and even here at home. Courtenay is a young

fool who wil bring you nothing but Plantagenet blood and trouble from

court factions. Madam, you, a daughter of the royal house of Spain, cannot

mate with a mere subject—and such a subject! A libertine, a profligate.”

The hot colour flared into Mary’s cheeks and he noted it with quiet

amusement. “And as I’m sure Your Majesty must have noticed, he smiles

very warmly on the Lady Elizabeth, herself, I fear, no stranger to scandal.

Madam.” He sat down beside her uninvited, and presumed to pat her

hand gently. “Look to your true friends in this matter.”

“Ah yes,” said Mary, suddenly soft-eyed and reminiscent. “Your

master has always given me his support. I was contracted in marriage to

the Emperor as a child, did you know that? But I fear it came to nothing.

You see, my dear father felt—”

Renard hastily intervened before the floodgates of past memories were

opened to swamp him. He had made the mistake of listening once before

and knew that such talk would wash away his political arguments like a

150

Legacy

burst dam. She dwelt too much on the past, brooding over the wrongs

done to her mother at the hands of Anne Boleyn.

“Madam,” he said briskly, seeking to rally scattering forces, “the

Emperor now offers you his beloved son and you would find the Prince

of Spain a true gentleman in every sense of the word.”

“But he is so young!”

Renard coughed.

“Young in years only, his great sense, his judgement, his moderation

and experience bespeak a man old in wisdom.” Mary shuddered from

complex causes.

“You understand that as a maid I am quite ignorant of—of what men

mean when they speak of love in the flesh. Is he indeed so—accomplished?”

Renard spread his hands in an expansive gesture and rolled his eyes to

heaven dramatically.

“Madam, he is perfection itself.”

t t t

It was hot in the Abbey and the coronation seemed endless. The pews

were densely packed. Elizabeth, dressed in pure white, sat wedged in

uncomfortable proximity to de Noailles, who had plumped down beside

her before she had a chance to avoid him. The coronet on her head was

heavy and far too large; she was forced to sit like a ramrod to prevent it

slipping down over her eyes.“I wish this wretched thing fitted me better,”

she complained to him at last in a low voice. “It’s giving me a headache.”

He glanced up at her with amusement and replied in a tone which

carried clearly into the aisle and beyond.

“Have patience, madam. It is only the preliminary to one which will

fit you better.”

t t t

“It was only a chance remark,” said Kat doubtfully, as she removed the

infamous coronet from her mistress’s head.

“Chance remarks like that,” muttered Elizabeth, “repeated in the

right quarters could cost me my place at court—which is no doubt what

de Noail es intended.” She leaned back against her chair and closed her

eyes while Kat began to brush her hair. “Granted, I’d be glad to go, the

way things are, with Renard’s dagger at my throat and de Noail es’ at my

151

Susan Kay

back—and Courtenay’s clumsy advances make me want to heave. He has

about as much finesse as a bul trying to serve a cow!”

“Poor lad,” said Kat tolerantly, “with all his youth wasted in the

Tower, what does your Grace expect?”

“I expect him to take a bath occasionally and drown a few of those

Tower fleas.”

“But he’s so handsome, you must admit that he’s very attractive!”

“So is a pig I suppose—to another pig! Oh God, Kat, he stinks, haven’t

you noticed?”

Kat sighed. Elizabeth’s fanatical fastidiousness was a great trial to her.

“No one’s good enough for you,” she grumbled. “You’d find fault

with Adonis himself. There are times when I really despair of you.”

“Never mind,” Elizabeth patted her arm, “I’m not likely to plague

you much longer. If Renard and de Noailles have their way my head will

probably roll before the end of the year.”

Standing in front of the mirror, she laughed and circled her neck with

her fingers.

“And I have such a little neck, don’t you think, Kat? Just like my

mother’s.”

Kat met the steady black gaze of the reflection in the steel mirror, and

crossed herself in the old, instinctive fashion of her childhood.

t t t

Small strands of greying red hair were escaping from the Queen’s head-

dress as she paced feverishly up and down her room.

“Opposition,” she muttered, looking harassed. “Gardiner tells me I

can expect opposition on all sides to Prince Philip’s suit.”

“Opposition to the desires of a reigning sovereign should surely be

overcome, madam.” Renard’s voice held just a touch of impatience. “Is it

possible that the policy of the state can be satisfactorily left to the rabble?”

“Of course not!” said Mary testily, and swung away from him down

the room once more. “But I’m not sure—not sure, do you understand?”

She flung out her hand in a weary gesture of frustration. “Oh, if only I

could see him before I commit myself.”

Renard restrained a strong impulse to tell her that the Prince of Spain

was not to be inspected like a stud horse in the market place.

“Madam, you could not possibly find him wanting in any respect.”

152

Legacy

“Then he is truly all you say?” She caught at his hand and he saw

with acute discomfort that her faded eyes were full of tears. “Or do you

speak purely as a subject,” she continued fretfully, “whose duty is to

praise his master?”

Renard disentangled himself from her feverish grasp to say solemnly,

“Your Majesty may take my life if you find him other than I have told you.”

“Pray with me,” she said suddenly, and he duly knelt. During the

long silence he glanced up at a full-length portrait of Philip and thought

peevishly: If I bring this thing to pass it’s small thanks I’ll get from you…

Mary rose stiffly from her knees and he came forward to take her

outstretched hand.

“God has inspired me with this decision,” she said huskily. “I shall

marry Prince Philip. I swear to you now that my mind is made up and

will never change. I will love him perfectly and never give him cause for

jealousy.”

Renard hid a smile as he bowed over her hand. That much he did not

doubt, for one moment.

t t t

“So it is to be marriage with Spain,” purred de Noailles in a silky voice,

drawing Elizabeth’s hand on to his arm as they strolled by the river. “I

cannot think the country will approve. What is Your Grace’s opinion

on that?”

“Oh, my opinion is of no importance, sir.”

“Come,” he said gallantly, “I cannot believe that.”

She smiled at him coyly. “I would never dream of touching a

man’s beliefs.”

“Nor anything else, madam?”

She slapped his cheek lightly with her fan and drew away. If de Noailles

were not her enemy she would find him an amusing companion. All the

same it was becoming as hard to avoid him as it was to avoid Courtenay;

it was hardly safe to step outside the palace without one of them pouncing

on her. She retreated strategically out of reach and he attended to the

ruffs at his wrist while he murmured pleasantly, “You may speak freely

with me, madam. I understand the Queen does not display the kindness

towards you that might be expected.”

She looked at him with the blank innocence of a child.

153

Susan Kay

“The Queen is my good sister, sir.”

De Noailles smiled faintly, showing a row of discoloured teeth.

“I understand your good sister has transferred Your Grace’s right

of precedence to the Countess of Lennox and the Duchess of Suffolk?

Madam, it is unseemly that you should be forced to walk out of rooms after

these ladies. It is shameful that you should be so coldly treated that only the

youngest and most daring members of the court visit your apartments.”

She looked away angrily and he was aware that he was rubbing a very

sore point. The two sisters had just had their first public quarrel on the

subject and Elizabeth was now almost entirely isolated from all except the

younger, male faction. She had already demanded leave to retire from

court and been coldly refused. Her position was becoming an intolerably

humiliating strain and de Noailles privately admired the self-control with

which she masked her temper.

“Only the young and the daring,” de Noailles repeated softly, “are

willing to be your friends. But the King of France is constant in his affec-

tion for you, madam.”

She smiled contemptuously.

“Your King has a spacious heart. It has already embraced the Queen

of Scots, who will soon be his daughter-in-law.”

“The Queen of Scots is a mere child, and our beloved Dauphin is not

strong. There might after all be no marriage between them.”

“Your king has other sons.”

“My king,” said de Noailles smoothly, “is concerned at this time only

with Your Grace’s marriage.”

“Mine?” He saw her turn pale.

“With Edward Courtenay. He has powerful friends in Devon, madam,

friends who are reluctant to see the Spaniards set foot in England, who

would see a younger queen grace the throne of England.”

“I will hear no talk which tends to treason! You may tell your

master—and Courtenay!—that with my blessing.”

With no further pretence at civility she swung round and returned in

the direction of the palace, followed by a flustered lady-in-waiting. De

Noailles lounged against a tree and watched her go, admiring the swift grace

of her carriage. He was a connoisseur of women, but he had never seen

anyone carry herself with such unconscious majesty, like a well-bred cat.

There was something about her which made her stand out in any crowd,

154

Legacy

a unique ability to make every other woman look colourless that owed

almost nothing to beauty, something she would possess even in unlovely

old age. No one remained indifferent to Elizabeth; she engendered violent

feelings of love or hate among her associates. And he was beginning to

see the effect of her allure in the uneasy, half-concealed glances of the

young men at court, drawn towards her in spite of their common sense, as

though to a siren or a mermaid. Yes, a mermaid, he decided, with a cool

enchantment drawn from borders just beyond humanity. What else could

be expected of the daughter of a witch and the old Devil himself ?

Naturally, she was too clever to commit herself irretrievably to his

plans, but he was confident that he would be able to count on her

furtive support. She wanted the crown of England more desperately than

anything else in this world; he’d swear to that!

And he did not see why she should be too squeamish as to how it

came her way.

t t t

“Madam, I beseech you! Send her to the Tower.”

“I cannot! I have no evidence.”

“Then send her from the court, madam, and I swear you will soon

have it!”

Candlelight glinted on the blue lights in Renard’s neat moustache and

reflected in his brilliant black eyes. Behind him the portrait of Philip

stared down with wide-eyed gravity as Mary paced beneath it.

She stopped suddenly, fingering her crucifix nervously.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Let her return to the country believing she has your trust and we will

watch her every move.”

“You think she will betray me?”

“Madam, it is inevitable. Her Protestant friends are waiting for this very

opportunity. But she must not suspect your motives. Send her kindly,

promise anything she asks. It is your turn to dissemble with her now.”

The Queen wandered sadly to the portrait and stared at the smooth,

bland face. He was so young! Without looking round she muttered

almost inaudibly, “My sister is not alone in her apartments, is she? She is

a disgraced outcast but she is not alone.” Mary turned and there was that