Legacy: The Acclaimed Novel of Elizabeth, England's Most Passionate Queen -- and the Three Men Who Loved Her (33 page)

in the Governor’s house to her room in the Bell Tower.

When she was alone, she slit the binding round the posy with her

fingernail and spread the stems across the table. There between the leaves

lay another tightly folded pellet of paper, containing one line in the old

familiar writing she remembered from her childhood.

“
Dismiss your dragons tonight.
”

Between the Bell Tower where she was lodged and the Beauchamp

Tower where Robin Dudley was held captive under sentence of death

was a narrow walk known as the Leads. It stretched roughly seventy

feet from one door to the next, between the battlements of the outer

walls and the gables of the King’s and the Yeoman Gaoler’s houses.

From that high vantage point she had seen the far sweep of the Essex

marshes and freedom, for it was there that they had first allowed her to

walk for exercise, before she gained the greater freedom of the Tower

garden. She remembered glancing at the door to the Beauchamp Turret

and thinking how strange it was to be so near and yet so far from her

childhood’s best friend.

So—he would come to her tonight! It could be done, she knew that,

knew that stranger, darker, and more mysterious things had taken place

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before now in this stone kingdom where money talked with a louder and

more persuasive voice than anywhere else in England. Meetings could

be arranged easily enough for those who were not out of reach in the

dungeons and she was not there yet, though she could think of some who

would like to see it arranged. But Robin Dudley, even committing rank

treason at his father’s command, was not among them.

Now, in the darkest moment of their lives, when they were both too

near to death to fear the consequences, they could afford to be reckless.

They were neither of them likely to see another spring, so what the devil

did it matter anyway if they met once more to say goodbye?

“What the devil!” she said softly to herself and dropped the small pellet

of paper into the fire with a little smile.

t t t

And so it had come to this. Her life had turned the full circle of love

and death and she was waiting for life to end or begin that strange circle

again, waiting in the Tower, listening to the wind and staring at the

unlocked door.

Death was all around her in this place of dark memories. Anne Boleyn;

Katherine Howard; the Lord Admiral. All had met their violent ends

within the confines of the fortress which now held her captive.

She sat very still in the cold, stone window-seat and rain drummed

heavily into the moat outside.

Who
would come to her through that door which was scarcely visible

in the half gloom—a living breathing young man, or a gay, teasing, reck-

less ghost?

As she watched, the door creaked open and shut again, and a tall figure

stood at last with his face in the shadows. She rose from the window-seat

and they stared at each other for a long moment in the twilight, before he

came across the room and knelt to kiss the hem of her gown. He lifted his

head to look at her and the light of the single candle fell not on the golden

beard and hair of the Lord Admiral, but on a face as darkly handsome as

a gypsy’s.

In that moment, when she held out both her hands to Robin Dudley,

it seemed to her that she held them out to life itself.

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Part 2

The Woman

“I hate the very idea of marriage for reasons I would not divulge to

a twin soul.”

—Elizabeth

Chapter 1

T
he lady elizabeth was one admirer short on her morning walk

in the little Tower garden and found herself disproportionately

distressed by the lack.

It was not as though Katherine was her favourite. She was not high-

spirited like Henry, or half so amusing as Susanna; in fact she was a dull

little thing, with hardly a word to say for herself, a child one might easily

overlook in a crowd. But her solemn, tongue-tied adoration had been a

trophy, a tribute to Elizabeth’s power, and she was shaken by this unex-

pected desertion.

Where’s Katherine?

The nagging little question gnawed at the back of her jealous mind,

and neither hide and seek nor a vigorous game of tag shifted her

growing depression.

“Madam Elizabeth!”

She turned eagerly towards the gate and held out her arms in welcome

to the little figure who came running towards her.

“Look what I found for you, Madam Elizabeth. Look!”

Flushed and animated, the child held up a bunch of keys with a

triumphant flourish. Never in all her life would Elizabeth have believed

it possible that the plain, rather plump little face could look so beautiful.

“Where did you find them, sweetheart?”

“Where indeed, madam?” The guard was at her side. “Forgive me,

Your Grace, but I must see.”

He held out his hand for the keys and Katherine, that quiet, colourless,

Susan Kay

well-behaved little girl, suddenly let out a scream of fury that almost made

him drop them.

“No
!
The keys are for the lady so she may unlock the doors and go

abroad. Give them back to her—give them back!”

Elizabeth swung the child up into her arms and straddled her on

her hip.

“Are you always so full of tact?” she demanded of the guard, who

flushed uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry, madam. I shall have to report the matter.”

“Surely that’s not necessary. You can see well enough what has

happened. Have you no children of your own?”

He lowered his eyes. “I have five, madam—and another on the way.

That’s why—” he faltered.

“Why you can’t afford to risk your place.” She smiled suddenly.

“Yes—I understand. Do whatever you feel is necessary.”

Immeasurably relieved, he bowed and hurried away with the keys.

The other two children crowded round Elizabeth, jealous of the sudden

prominence of one they only permitted to tag along on sufferance.

“Cry-baby,” mocked Henry, as Elizabeth took out her own hand-

kerchief to wipe Katherine’s face. “They were the wrong keys anyway.

Yow
!” His voice shot up an octave in pained surprise as Elizabeth’s hard

hand came down sharply on the back of his head.

“You nasty little turd!” she said furiously. “If you don’t say you’re

sorry for that I’ll turn you inside out!”

He took a halting step backwards, with one hand to his ear, and looked

at his fairytale princess with wary respect.

“How do you turn someone inside out?” piped Susanna.

Elizabeth glanced ominously at the silent boy.

“Watch very closely and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

The children scattered before her challenge and Henry ran for his life.

Elizabeth cut off his retreat to the gate, chased him round the flowerbeds,

and finally cornered him against the high stone wall, where his belliger-

ence crumpled into screams of delighted terror.

“Don’t—oh, please don’t! I’m sorry, Katherine, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

He flung his arms around Elizabeth’s waist and buried his face in the

stomacher of her gown. She held him close until the quivering sobs died

away, then sat on the grass in a puff of dull green skirts and pulled him

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Legacy

down beside her. She kissed the top of his tumbled hair and looked down

on him with quiet amusement.

“I didn’t frighten you, did I?”

“Oh no!” he lied on a hasty gulp. “Not one bit.”

“That’s what I thought. So that’s all right then, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” He was watching her long hair flying out like copper snakes

in the breeze and Elizabeth studied him calmly; there was nothing in her

manner to suggest the sudden panic which had seized her. The guard

would take those keys to the Lord Lieutenant of the Tower, who in his

turn would lay the matter before the Council. And if everything that had

taken place in this garden was suddenly subjected to close scrutiny, it

might be that her life and Robin Dudley’s lay unbelievably in the hands

of a five-year-old boy.

A boy, moreover, whose ear was still brilliant red from her ill-

considered blow.

“Harry,” she said softly, “will you do something for me—something

secret, like a knight of the Round Table?”

“A
real
secret?” he breathed. “Something the others don’t know about?”

She nodded. “Just you and me. Our own very special secret about the

flowers you bring me.”

“But Lord Robert sends the flowers.”

Mentally she cringed, and had to force herself to smile nonchalantly.

“If anyone should ask you questions, you must say nothing about Lord

Robert. Nothing at all. It’s very important, Harry—will you promise me?”

“Can we swear a pact?”

She laughed with relief. “If you like.”

And so they sat in the cool April sunlight, spitting on palms and

pressing thumbs, while the Lord Lieutenant watched from a window

above and absently fingered the keys in his hand.

t t t

Henry Martin stood in a narrow, ill-lit room surrounded by the bearded

faces of men who ruled his father’s life. They did not threaten to turn him

inside out, but they were looking at him as though they would dearly

like to do it.

“Come here,” said the Lord Lieutenant and Henry came, not very

willingly.

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Susan Kay

“Do you know what a lie is, young man?” inquired the mighty master

of this domain.

“Oh yes, sir. A lie is a very wicked thing.”

“Just so,” agreed the gentleman severely. “So you will not tell lies to

us, will you, Henry?”

“No, sir.”

The Lord Lieutenant glanced along the row of faces and back to the

boy before him.

“You visited the Lady Elizabeth and took her flowers. We would like

to know what was in those posies, my boy.”

“Well—” Henry considered a moment. “They were mostly bluebells

and just a few of those tall—”

The Lord Lieutenant coughed. “Did anyone give you a letter to put

in with the flowers?”

“No, sir!” The small face was quite genuinely baffled now; the ring

of elderly gentlemen congealed into a tightly knit whispering group and

then re-formed around him once more.

“Have you ever visited a prisoner called Edward Courtenay ?”

“No, sir.”

“Sir Thomas Wyatt?”

“No, sir.”

More muttering and mumbling followed, only splinters of which were

audible to the boy.

“
Gardiner’s furious—who allowed it to take place
?”

“
The prison’s crammed to bursting point—can’t have eyes everywhere you

know—and besides it’s obviously been innocent enough—
”

“
Aye, innocent this time, thank God—there’ll not be a next
.”

The Lord Lieutenant swung round at last to the boy’s father.

“You, sir! You’re responsible for all this trouble. You will keep your

crafty knave at home in future—and you, my boy, you are not to see the

Princess again, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The voice was obedient, but the face was fiercely mutinous

as he walked out of the room with his father’s hand on his shoulder.

Henry’s parents took the Lord Lieutenant’s rebuke very seriously and

it was three days before the little boy was allowed to set foot outside

their apartments on the sound promise of a good whipping if he dared

to disobey.

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Legacy

He hung around outside the garden, kicking a stone in apparent indif-

ference, and then, seeing no-one was watching, he sidled over to the

garden gate and pushed it hard. It was locked now, but through the

chinks in the wood he could see her walking, alone except for her guards.

He hammered on the gate and yelled her name and a minute later he

heard her low, breathless voice on the other side.

“What happened, Harry—tell me quickly.”

“I can’t come any more. I can bring you no more flowers.” He

stopped shouting and his voice became a whisper she could only just

hear. “I didn’t tell, Madam Elizabeth—I didn’t tell.”

Through the gaps in the wooden gate she watched him flee down the

path and felt an absurd pricking at the back of her eyes. She never saw any

of them again. The children were gone and with them the dragons and the

dreams; life was real once more and threatening to prove terrifyingly short.

News came that Mary had collapsed with what might well prove to be

a fatal illness, and Gardiner, knowing how little he would have to hope

for if Elizabeth came to the throne now, at last took the desperate gamble

which had been at the back of his mind for a few weeks.

Hard on the news of the Queen’s illness, came the death warrant for

Elizabeth’s immediate execution.

t t t

The Lord Lieutenant of the Tower sat close to the fire in the stone hearth

and stared at the death warrant which had been delivered with strict