B009RYSCAU EBOK (21 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Twentieth of December, 1550—Northaw, Hertfordshire

I
T HAD BEEN THREE DAYS SINCE
B
ESS HAD GIVEN BIRTH, BUT SHE
still felt as if her insides had been scooped out with a sharp spoon and cast aside. The bearing of her first son had been even more difficult than Temperance’s birth a year and a half earlier. William, concerned for her safety and that of the baby, had taken the precaution of engaging not only the midwife but a surgeon. Bess’s labor had seemed to go on forever and she had first feared she would die and then hoped that she would, if only the pain would end. But both she and little Henry had survived.

Cecily came into the chamber bearing a covered cup.

“A nice warm posset, my lady.”

She helped Bess to sit up against the bank of pillows and bolsters, and tucked the bedclothes snug around her chest before going to the cradle.

“He’s sleeping well,” she commented. “Calm. No fever or aught like that.”

“Yes, the Lord be praised,” Bess agreed.

“Will you have no other supper, your ladyship?”

“No,” Bess said, holding the steaming cup against her chest. “This is all I can manage now.”

She could feel some strength returning to her as the warm liquid went down. Cecily poked at the fire and added another log to it, and drew the shutters closed against the darkness enveloping the land outside.

“Sir William asks if you’re well enough to see him.”

“Of course, thank you, Cecily. Ask him to come in directly.”

William stopped to smile down at the baby in the cradle before he settled himself carefully on the bed beside Bess and leaned down to kiss her.

“How’s my brave girl?”

Bess hadn’t seen William since the previous evening and had missed him, and his presence made her feel better. “Much better today, my love.”

“Good. I have several pieces of news that I think will please you. Harry Grey, John Dudley, and the Lady Elizabeth have all sent word that they will stand as godparents and will be here for the christening.”

He looked proud and Bess smiled at him, reaching out a hand to stroke his luxuriant whiskers.

“That’s wonderful. Two of the most powerful men in England and the king’s sister, honoring our son.”

“Our boy is off to a good start. Which brings me to the other tidings. The master mason came today. I told him what kind of house we want to build at Chatsworth, and tomorrow we’ll ride over so that he may see the land and begin to draw some plans.”

A few months earlier, the Leche family lands that Alice’s husband Francis had sold so precipitously had come up for sale, and at a good price, as Edward Seymour had said they would. William and Bess had inspected the property, which included not only the manors of Chatsworth and Cromford with their houses and land, but nearly twenty surrounding villages, and had immediately determined to buy it. Francis Agarde had accepted their offer of only six hundred pounds, and now there lacked only the final signing of documents, which they expected to take place within a few days. The land lay not far from Hardwick, a week’s journey from London, through rough and remote country.

“Chatsworth will be our bulwark against the storms,” William said, getting up to inspect the baby in his cradle, “and a fitting inheritance for our son.”

Bess smiled at the thought of baby Henry a grown man, with children around him. And then thought of those children grown old, with grandchildren of their own. She was pleased at the idea that Chatsworth would be the seat of the Cavendishes down through the centuries.

“Oh, and what think you of this?” William asked.

He fished within his doublet and drew forth a swatch of fine woolen cloth, a deep and vivid blue that made Bess think of cornflowers in a summer field.

“For the servants’ livery?” Bess asked, fingers caressing the smooth stuff. “It’s lovely.”

The number of servants in a household was a measure of its grandeur, and outfitting the household in livery was a mark of even higher rank. Bess thought of how impressive she had thought the Zouche servants in their livery when first she had gone to Codnor Castle.

“Goodness, William, what heights we are risen to!”

William took her hands in his and kissed them.

“I’m glad you’re pleased, wife. I’ll get the tailor in as soon as may be. Perhaps we may have some suits made by the time of Twelfth Night.”

“My mother will be so proud.” Bess smiled.

“I’m glad she’s coming for Christmas. I hope it will cheer her.”

Bess’s stepfather’s face came into her mind and she said a prayer for the peace of his soul. He had died only a few weeks earlier, never quite recovered in body or spirit from the years he had spent in debtors’ prison.

“I wish my father could have seen our Henry,” she said.

“I know. But at least he lived to see Frankie, and to know you were well bestowed and comfortable.”

“Oh, William.” Bess reached out her hand and he came to her and kissed her. “You are my rock and my salvation. Whatever may come, I can face it as long as you are at my side.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Fifteenth of November, 1551—Newgate Street, London

M
OTHER!
T
HANK
G
OD YOU’VE ARRIVED SAFELY!
A
ND
D
IBBY
and Meg, just look at you!”

Bess welcomed her mother and sisters to her home, enveloping her mother in her arms, feeling like a little girl again as she leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“Oh, my dear girl, look at you!” Elizabeth Leche stepped back and smiled at the sight of Bess’s swollen belly. “Another son, I’ll be bound!”

“I think so, too, but of course I’ll be happy either way.” She shook her head in disbelief at how her younger sisters had grown since she had seen them last. Dibby was now sixteen and Meg fourteen. “Goodness, you’re both all grown up.”

Bess saw her mother and sisters settled into a comfortable chamber at the back of the house, away from the noise of the street.

“I’ve brought you some honey and jams,” Elizabeth said, pulling several small pots from their wrapping.

“Lovely, a little piece of home.” Bess lifted a pot to her nose and sniffed. “I almost feel I can smell the blossoms on the trees when I eat Hardwick honey.”

Bess thought her mother looked tired, and there was more gray in her hair since she had last seen her. She herself found it exhausting to travel the hundred and fifty miles between Hardwick and London, and glad though she was to see her mother, she wondered if the trip had been too much for her.

“How was your journey? Not too wearing?”

“Nothing more than the usual. It is a long way but I’m always happy to make it knowing you and William and the babies are at the end of it.”

“Frankie and little Harry are sleeping now, but you and I can have a good visit before supper. Harry and Frances Grey are coming this evening. I hope you feel up to being in company?”

“Oh, my! Yes, of course. I can still scarce believe they’re the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk now. What a terrible state of affairs led to that.”

Frances Grey’s sixteen-year-old half brother, the young Duke of Suffolk, and his younger brother Charles had died of the sweating sickness within an hour of each other in July. As they were the last of the male Brandons, King Edward had bestowed the dukedom on Harry and Frances Grey.

“Yes,” Bess said, sadness gripping her heart. She thought of the two boys laughing and running in the sunshine when they had been at Northaw for Frankie’s christening.

“And you were there for the ceremony! You will have to tell me all about it.”

“Yes, at Hampton Court. It was very grand, and other friends of ours were also honored. John Dudley was made Duke of Northumberland, the Lord Treasurer William Paulet became Marquess of Winchester, and William Cecil was knighted, along with another secretary and three gentlemen of the privy chamber.”

“Oh, my Bess, I’m so proud of you.” Bess’s mother kissed her cheek. “This is exactly what I hoped for you when I sent you off to Codnor all those years ago. You’re a great lady now, with a fine gentleman for a husband, a grand house, and noble friends who will stand by you in time of need.”

My friends will stand by me if they are able to stand themselves,
Bess thought.

The face of Edward Seymour flashed into her mind. He was imprisoned in the Tower and even though there was little foundation to the charges that John Dudley had laid at his door, he would likely be executed for treason. Just like his brother Thomas. Who would be next? Bess wondered. How long would Dudley manage to stay atop the heap, with so many contentious dogs nipping at him from below?

“I’m happy to say that all has come out well for Lizzie,” Bess told her mother. “Parliament annulled William Parr’s marriage in March, so now Lizzie is his true wife, and Marchioness of Northampton!”

“What a triumph for her,” Bess’s mother said. “I would enjoy seeing her again.”

“We’ll pay them a visit,” Bess promised. “They’re living in Southwark, in the old palace of the bishops of Winchester.”

“A palace. Think of that.”

“She almost holds the place of queen now,” Bess said. “As the king is not married, and Jane Dudley dislikes public events, it falls to Lizzie to welcome ambassadors and preside over court festivities.”

More turning of fortune’s wheel, Bess reflected. Who could have foreseen that Lizzie would rise so high, when only a short time ago, her condition had fallen so low?

* * *

T
HE
C
AVENDISH HOUSEHOLD KEPT A MERRY BUT SUBDUED
C
HRISTMAS
. Bess had taken her chamber and the baby would come any day, but she refused to be sequestered from William, and Christmas dinner was served in her withdrawing room. The walls and windows were draped with carpets and hangings, keeping the cold at bay, and a cheerful fire chased the shadows into the corners.

More of the Hardwick family were gathered together than in some time. Bess looked around at the faces of her mother; her brother Jem and his wife; her older sister Jane and husband Godfrey; Jenny, Dibby, and Meg; Aunt Marcella; and little Frankie, sitting proudly at the table for her first meal outside of her nursery. Jenny’s face was aglow with happiness. She would soon be married to Thomas Kniveton, a cousin from Derbyshire. William was telling a funny story to Nan, while Kitty looked on indulgently. Kitty would shortly wed Lizzie’s brother Thomas Brooke. It was an excellent match, which pleased Bess and William very much.

The smell of Christmas greenery and spiced cider perfumed the air. Outside, the wintry drafts buffeted the walls of the house and the winds of change raised some at court and blew others down, but all was snug and safe around her.

“What is the latest news from Chatsworth?” Bess’s mother asked.

“Work on the house comes along apace,” William said. “In a few months we’ll begin to move the household and furnishings from Northaw. We’ll make our home in the old manor at Chatsworth while the new house is still a-building. By this time next year we shall be living there, if all goes well.”

“It will be wonderful to have you so much closer to Hardwick.”

“It will indeed,” Bess said, taking her mother’s hand. “Nothing could make me happier than having you a day’s ride from me instead of half the length of the land away.”

* * *

B
ESS’S SON
W
ILLIAM WAS BORN AT THREE IN THE MORNING OF THE
twenty-seventh of December. He seemed to be having trouble nursing, but with some extra care the wet nurse was able to get him to suck and by the time of his christening ten days after his birth, he was feeding well and putting on weight. Lizzie was to be his godmother, and his godfathers were William Herbert, the Earl of Pembroke, and William Paulet, the Marquess of Winchester.

“The pair of them rule the court,” William had said. “We could not ask for better situated men to stand godfathers to our boy.”

William Herbert was married to Anne Parr, sister of the late queen, and his son was betrothed to Kate Grey, next after her sister Jane in the succession to the throne. William Paulet had ably served King Henry, and continued as a high statesman with King Edward. He had supported John Dudley against Edward Seymour, and been rewarded with Seymour’s position of Lord High Treasurer.

After the christening, the house on Newgate Street bustled with Greys, Parrs, Herberts, and Dudleys.

“Another brick in the foundation of our children’s success,” William said quietly to Bess, as they watched their guests drink to the good health and long life of the newest Cavendish.