Legacy: The Acclaimed Novel of Elizabeth, England's Most Passionate Queen -- and the Three Men Who Loved Her (45 page)

and known that there might yet be one worthy of his selfless devotion,

one he would not need to desert.

She owed him loyalty, a debt of gratitude, and already she had begun

to repay it. He was jealous of his influence, terrified of losing it, prepared

to hate anyone who might place it in jeopardy. And fierce resentment had

begun to gather in his mind around the name of Mary Stuart. She was

sheltered behind the might of France and there was no way they could

strike at her directly. But in her native land of Scotland her crown was not

so strong, defended virtually alone by her Catholic mother, the Regent

Mary of Guise, struggling to uphold the lost cause of the Catholic faith

in a land ruled by the Puritanical kirk. Oh yes, it was in Scotland that

they must strike at Mary Stuart, strike hard and soon, aiding the rebel-

lious Protestant lords. They could rely on help from the Scottish preacher

John Knox, who held the populace under his thumb—Knox who had

257

Susan Kay

denounced the “monstrous regiment of women,” but would surely bend

his scruples to the wind of necessity in alliance with a Protestant Queen.

Cecil frowned and tapped his quill on the crowded desk in front of

him. There was much to be done and little time left in which to do it.

Elizabeth had given him leave to speak his mind freely on all occasions

and he hoped she had meant it; for he was about to tell her two things

that he knew instinctively she would not like. First that they must make

war on Scotland. And second she must stop flirting with a married man in

order to attend to the serious business of choosing her husband.

258

Chapter 6

E
verything depends on the husband she chooses…if she decides to

marry out of the country, she wil at once fix her eyes on Your Majesty.”

Feria could not believe he had ever written those confident words, as

he sat now surveying the failure of his diplomatic mission. He had thought

her “a young untried lass, sharp, but entirely without prudence,” and she

had succeeded in making him and his master look utter fools. There had

been a point when he was quite sure of her, so sure that Philip had finally

abandoned his tortuous and contradictory instructions and come out in

the open with a marriage proposal and the command—extraordinary

from Philip!—to “spare no expense in the matter.”

So Feria had spared no expense. Gifts she had had aplenty—boxes of

jewels, God only knew what—but in return she raised continual objec-

tions to the match. She feared Philip would spend very little time with her,

he would come and go even if she were pregnant…Indeed her objections

began to sound so remarkably like echoes of Philip’s complacent letters

to him, that Feria was quite certain his correspondence was being tapped.

True, he could no longer complain of her neglect. She told him gossip,

invited him to plays, and listened to his advice with flattering attention.

“I often wish,” she had told him innocently, “that religion had played

a larger part in my upbringing.”

Feria had fallen for the bait and that was the beginning of their happy

theological discussions, when he brought her doctrinal books, assuring

himself—and his master—of her good intentions to remain true to the

Roman faith. And while he was lulled on the soft tide of her charm,

Susan Kay

she was duly crowned and held her first Parliament…which made her

Supreme Governor of the Church of England.

Then suddenly there was no further need for deceit.

She took off the charming smile and told him curtly that she could not

possibly marry the King of Spain because she was a heretic.

A heretic
!
The word was thrown at him like a lighted torch and mentally

he stepped back from it, aghast. All those books, all those soul-searching

little talks where he had marked her for a true Catholic at heart! How

could she use such an inflammatory, undiplomatic expression?

“Madam, I cannot believe you are a heretic.” He spoke soothingly,

half suspecting she was feverish. “You know that you would not separate

yourself from the true Church for all the thrones in the world.”

“So much the less,” she snapped, “would Philip do it for a woman!”

He found he had begun to sweat copiously. “Men,” he ventured uneasily,

“sometimes do for a woman what they would do for nothing else.”

“Oh,
men
!” she spat, and walked away from him. The rest of the inter-

view was like awakening from a pleasant dream to a nightmare reality. He

heard her swear and say she meant to do absolutely as her father had done.

Ashen-faced, he bowed to her and told her she was no longer the

Elizabeth he had known. She was not quite quick enough then to conceal

her smile of satisfaction and he actually shouted—from the safety of the

doorway—that if she continued in this fashion she was a lost woman.

In Spain, Philip was jolted out of his comfortable complacency by the

unbelievable news that he had been turned down.

Wait for me, Philip…

And he had waited patiently—for this insult!

He went to his private altar and tried to pray for guidance, but he

could not hear God’s voice for his own, screaming silently in his head.

She’ll pay for this. One day I swear she’ll pay…

But not just now. Now he had to save face in the only way open to

him, by finding a wife as soon as possible to negate his assumed interest

in the Queen of England.

There was only one royal bride instantly available, the little French

Princess Elisabeth already betrothed to his son, Carlos. Philip broke

the betrothal and married her himself—and saw to it that the Queen of

England should be one of the first to hear the news.

“My name is a fortunate one,” said Elizabeth, and pouted so

260

Legacy

convincingly that Feria was instantly uneasy. Oh Lord, had he been too

hasty, misunderstood a passing mood of petulance for declared intent—

botched the whole thing after all?

“Madam,” he cried, exasperated beyond endurance, “the fault lies

with you—you
know
how unwilling I have been to accept your refusal.”

“Surely he could have waited three or four months—I might have

changed my mind, you know.”

Was she laughing at them—was she? He went away to record his

angry opinion for the edification of his master and posterity.

“The country is lost to us now, body and soul, for it has fallen into

the hands of the Daughter of the Devil and the greatest scoundrels and

heretics in the land.”

But Elizabeth had many other suitors and had already discovered that

no other creatures in the world were quite so easy to exploit. She had had

more than her money’s worth out of Philip.

Now she was ready to take on the rest.

t t t

Cecil found himself living on a razor-edge of anxiety. They had gambled

high with Philip, gambled to the very limit, and that July, when the French

King died in a jousting accident and Mary Stuart became Queen of France,

it began to look as though they had exhausted their run of luck. With Mary’s

uncles now in command of the French government it seemed unlikely that

the Scottish rebellion would be allowed to continue unchecked. Once a

French army had marched into Scotland to deal with the rebel Protestant

lords, it was uncomfortably obvious where it would advance next. Philip

was allied in marriage to France and Elizabeth could no longer count on

his active support. They were saying in Europe that the reign of the bastard

Tudor would be fortunate to reach the end of its first year.

And in the back streets of London they had begun to take bets on the

outcome…

t t t

The new King of France had claimed the English throne in the name of

his wife, and everyone at court was devastated by the news.

“Let him have a care,” snapped Elizabeth savagely, “or I will take a

husband to make his head ache!”

261

Susan Kay

An uneasy silence fell over the courtiers assembled round the archery

butts, suddenly irritating her beyond bearing. She flung down her bow

and walked away from them before the caged fury inside her betrayed

her insecurity any further. After a moment’s hesitation, Robin handed his

own bow to a page and hurried after her.

“Madam!”

She stopped and swung round upon him angrily.

“Damn you! How dare you run after me like a wretched little dog?”

He could have bowed and backed off as most men would have done

faced with that curt reception. Instead he calmly took her arm.

“What good will brooding alone do? Whatever you feel like saying

you may say to me and know it will go no further.”

She sighed and a little of the fiercely coiled tension went out of her as

she allowed him to fall into step beside her.

“You’re a thick-skinned devil,” she muttered, “I’ll say that for you.”

“Family trait,” he asserted cheerfully.

“Yes—you are your father’s son.”

“And you,” he ventured carefully, “you are to be married?”

“So it would seem.” Her face was suddenly stormy again. “France

leaves me precious little choice now.”

“You would let an insult force your hand?”

“This is more than an insult. It’s a direct challenge.”

“Perhaps.”

“How can you doubt it? That grasping Scottish bitch collects crowns.

She can’t have a man in her bed because her husband is an impotent, half-

witted Valois—so she’ll have England instead to console her. But I know

this—she’ll rue the day she laid her greedy hands on my sceptre—by God

she will!”

“She’s very young and ruled by her uncles. She may not be directly

responsible—”

He broke off abruptly beneath Elizabeth’s unwavering gaze.

“I was not aware,” she said icily, “that I was in conversation with the

French Ambassador.”

Jealousy! There it was again, peeping out beneath her studied indif-

ference, a shadow in her eyes, a tightening of her lips which filled Robin

equally with excitement and fear. Sweet as it was, one did not court this

woman’s jealousy without risk.

262

Legacy

He said hastily, “I’m no friend of Mary Stuart’s.”

“No?”

“
No
, madam. Indeed I know very little about her save that she must

be a fool to think she can play against you to win.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly, as though for once he had paid her a compli-

ment she really valued.

“How formidable you make me sound.”

“You
are
formidable in this mood. I tell you this much—I wouldn’t

care to be your enemy.”

She laid her hand gently on his sleeve and said softly, “I don’t think

you will ever be that.”

They were silent for a while, comfortably, harmoniously silent, with

their hands intertwined.

“Will there be open hostilities with France?” he asked at length.

She shook her head.

“Not if I can avoid it. Oh, I know Cecil wants war in Scotland—he’ll

bleat even louder now.”

“You don’t have to take his advice on all issues. He presumes on

his position.”

She frowned. “It is my cousin who presumes.”

“You have too many cousins.”

“I know. And all of them legitimate.”

He squeezed her fingers between his own.

“They say the Queen of Scots has poor health. Perhaps she’ll die.”

“That would solve nothing. Her death is the last thing on this earth I

would wish for. I need her alive.”

She saw genuine surprise on his face.

“You
need
her?”

“She is my shield against Philip. If he would unseat me he must then

put her in my place—he cannot deny her right to succeed. Consider the

implications of France and Britain united under one ruler and you will see

why Philip will never make war on me during her lifetime. I must live

with her shadow, I have no choice.” She sighed. “There’s no place for

personal hatred in the heart of a prince.”

“Or love?” he demanded suddenly.

She looked away from him uneasily.

“I value your friendship, Robin. I acknowledge you are good for me.”

263

Susan Kay

“I could be better,” he said bluntly, “much better. As good as you

would be for me. I love you, Elizabeth, can’t you see that? Is there no

place in your heart and your bed for me?”

She twisted her hand away from his grasp.

“Don’t ask me that—I don’t know.”

“Is it because you do not know that you give no answer to your

suitors?” he persisted urgently.

“You ask too many questions.”

“And you never give a straight answer.”

She laughed unsteadily and took a step back from him.

“Christ set us al a good example. Never answer your enemies’ questions.”

He stiffened angrily. “I want to be your lover, not your bloody enemy!”

“For me it is the same thing.”

He stared at her in astonishment and she bit her tongue. Too near the

truth, that—and he must not know the truth. It could destroy all their

precarious happiness.

She said flippantly, “Ask me again when I’m in a better frame of mind,”