Legacy: The Acclaimed Novel of Elizabeth, England's Most Passionate Queen -- and the Three Men Who Loved Her (48 page)

for the man who had betrayed his father. Cecil knew that a few weeks

might be all that were left before he was fighting to keep his place, and

perhaps—since it seemed he could no longer depend on the Queen’s

loyalty—even his life!

Change of fortune was not unfamiliar to Cecil. Twice now he had

attached himself to men who had fallen, yet had failed to take him with

them to the block. He had a shrewd politician’s instinct which told him

when to risk a desperate gamble. He was ready to risk one now if it

should prove necessary, but it would be a risk, probably the greatest he

had ever taken in his life. And certainly the most unscrupulous.

276

Legacy

It was a risk because it involved the Queen’s whole future; and in

many ways the Queen remained an enigma to him. He did not really

know her and he doubted if anyone ever had or ever would. But he knew

this: the crown of England meant more to her than anything else on this

earth. She guarded her power with animal-like intensity. If Dudley could

be discredited in the eyes of the world, if there could be a straight choice

between her lover and her crown—Cecil swore he knew which way the

cat would jump.

The spies he had planted in Amy’s household at Cumnor Place

informed him that her servants had begun to keep a careful watch over

her food. Rumour was rife all over England and Europe that Dudley

would soon dispense with his unwanted wife. Divorce was the obvious

means to gain his freedom and, after King Henry’s matrimonial escapades,

was no longer the scandalous procedure it had once been. The Protestant

Church permitted it—even the late Duke of Somerset had once availed

himself of the legal loophole. But the scandal-mongers of Europe were

not trafficking talk of divorce; they were waiting with gleeful anticipation

for murder. Speculation was at such a pitch in foreign courts, that if Amy

were to die now, even of natural causes, there would not be one voice

raised in Dudley’s defence.

Not even the Queen’s. Cecil was ready to stake his whole career

on that. She might in a rash moment risk marrying a divorced man,

the son of a traitor, and hope that her popularity would weather the

storm. But she could not possibly hope to marry a murderer and

survive the scandal.

Cecil buried his face in his hands. It was a gamble—too great a gamble.

And he was not without conscience. He remembered Amy well—a

pretty, innocent creature already wronged by two utterly selfish young

people. Oh no, he did not want to do this; there was too much that could

go wrong.

But if it came to it, if there should be no other way of restraining the

Queen before she ruined them both…

Oh God, let her come to her senses before it is too late…

The candles wilted on his desk and he sat on in the darkness, a quiet,

eminently civilised, middle-aged man—with murder in his heart.

t t t

277

Susan Kay

“I have this theory,” said Robin complacently, “that the complete man

at some point in his life must make war to fulfill a basic need. It goes

without saying, of course, that the complete woman must make love.”

Elizabeth pirouetted beneath his hand.

“And the complete monarch?”

“Makes both, naturally, madam.” He smiled and continued to glide

down the crowded ballroom at her side. “So—since you are already at

war with Scotland—may I not come to you tonight and complete your

royal fulfilment?”

“No.” She smiled and made him an exaggerated curtsey. “Not tonight,

not tomorrow, not next week, next month, next year—”

“Why is it always
No?”
he interrupted with a sigh.

She lifted her face to his and her eyes slanted a gleam of open mockery.

“I should have thought the complete man would know the answer to

that. Perhaps he’d better ask Cecil, since an heir for England, and who

best to get it from, is the sum total of his conversation these days.”

“Is he pressing you to marry?” Robin was alarmed.

“It would be closer to the truth to say he’s squeezing me in a

damned vice!”

Robin’s hand tightened angrily on hers, causing the coronation ring

to bite into her flesh.

“I knew he’d make trouble for you. The man’s a snake in the grass—

get rid of him while you still can.”

“While I still can?” She raised her fine eyebrows slightly. “Perhaps you

would care to explain what you mean by that?”

“I mean that he’s beginning to be resented.”

She laughed. “By you!”

“And others,” he countered swiftly. “A great many others.”

“Oh?” She turned, glided to the right and looked at him over her

bare shoulder. “And with what snake should I replace him, my cunning

mathematician—an
adder
perhaps?”

He acknowledged her sly wit with a sulky frown.

“I tell you this, madam, no man at court will be able to fart soon

without asking Cecil first.” He saw her smile complacently and lowered

his voice. “But there’s something else that won’t amuse you quite so

much—something they’ve begun to call him behind your back.”

“And that?”

278

Legacy

“King Cecil.”

Her glance impaled him like a spear and made him catch his breath; she

was suddenly no longer safe to tease. Daring to hint at Cecil’s dominance

had placed him on very treacherous ground. She moved away again, this

time to her left, swung back, and touched hands with him. Her eyes were

a hard, brilliant gleam of challenge.

There is no king here,” she said coolly, “and as long as I live there

never will be. You had better remember that, Sweet Robin—and choose

your words with more care.”

“While he chooses your husband! Marries you off to some impotent,

imbecile princeling who’ll make your life a misery!” Robin’s voice

dropped to a note of desperate daring. “He’d never let you marry me

now—would he?”

Elizabeth halted abruptly in the middle of the measure and stared at

him. The music in the gallery above trailed into uncertain silence, and the

rest of the dancers also stood still, watching them with speculative eyes.

“Play on!” she said curtly and walked away to the table at the window

to pour ale. Robin followed with his heart in his mouth, knowing that if

he had misjudged this moment his whole future lay in the balance. It was

the first time he had ever dared to mention marriage; had he presumed

too much at last?

“Madam—”

She handed him a tankard of ale and spoke without turning to look

at him.

“So that’s what’s behind all your pretty love talk—I should have

known, of course—”

His hand groped out towards her and fell back to his side.

“Elizabeth—” he whispered.

She turned to look at him then and there was a crooked little smile

on her lips. He had laid his cards on the table and he was entirely at the

mercy of her whim. She rather enjoyed watching him sweat.

“Why should I want to marry you?” she inquired at last with quiet

amusement. “Women marry for security, for wealth or power—I need

no man to give me these things.”

“Some women marry for love,” he ventured softly and she laughed

out loud.

“Some men like to think so.”

279

Susan Kay

Well—at least she was not angry! He drew a breath and dared a

little further.

“If I were free of Amy would you marry me?”

“You?” She shrugged carelessly. “You are unsuitable on every

count—a low-blooded upstart descended from a tribe of traitors.”

“In that case why keep me with you?”

“I suppose because I’ve got no taste.” She set down her tankard and

he felt his confidence mounting. She had the hesitant, uncertain look of a

coy female hedging for delay and he felt suddenly masterful and decisive

enough to force a decision.

“I shall seek an immediate divorce,” he said quickly. “Amy won’t

stand in our way, I know that.”

Something moved behind the Queen’s eyes and was gone almost

before he saw it. For a moment he could have sworn it was fear.

She shook her head.

“No divorce. Not yet. There is scandal enough.”

“When I am a free man the scandal will die. I don’t see any point in

prolonging this meaningless relationship with my wife.”

“I forbid it, Robin!”

There was a sharp note in her voice now that warned him to push no

further for the moment.

“Very well,” he said ungraciously. “If that’s what you wish—but will

you give me no reason?”

The bitter disappointment on his face softened her and she reached up

to pat his cheek.

“
Andante andante
,” she said softly and led him back into the centre of

the floor where all the dancers swept back to make room for them. “Step

softly round my crown.”

t t t

She swung into the bedchamber an hour later with the heavy satin gown

swirling out from her tiny waist like the upturned petals of a tulip. The

new fashion she had set had led to an outburst of billowing gowns, with

skirts so full and wide that sheer lack of space enforced many of her ladies

to dine on cushions on the floor. Fashions were becoming preposterous,

muttered the elderly—they matched the new Queen’s morals!

She swept past her women with an impatient wave of her hand.

280

Legacy

“Leave me,” she said.

The women left with the speed which was beginning to characterise

obedience to Elizabeth and only Mrs. Ashley dared to linger, observed

the slight flush in her mistress’s normally pale cheeks, and thought:

Something has happened between them.

“Kat,” said her mistress, but not unkindly, “I told you to leave me.”

For a moment Kat’s eyes appealed to her.

Trust me, take me back into your confidence. I will never betray you again.

You need to talk to someone, to share your hopes and fears. Let it be me. Please!

Elizabeth looked at the woman who was all she had ever really known

of a mother and for a moment the need to pour out her confused emotions

almost overwhelmed her common sense. But she dared not trust Kat, or

anyone, with her confidence. She had lost the power to surrender herself.

Kissing the old woman lightly on the cheek, she turned away to the

window; after a moment she heard the soft click of the door closing and

knew that Kat had gone.

She began to pace up and down the room and felt the prickle of cold

sweat breaking out over her body in spite of the heat. Suddenly her whole

life was in turmoil once more, and she felt an unwilling rage surging up

in her towards the author of her distress. In a few short moments he had

altered the entire course of their lives, for he was no longer a pleasant friend,

a casual, harmless flatterer. He was a threat to her power and nothing could

ever be the same between them again. He had spoilt everything!

She had expected him to make some clumsy bid to become her lover,

but she had never dreamed he would have the sheer effrontery to suggest

marriage. He had shot that arrow when she was totally off guard and sure

enough it had pierced to the core of the barricaded citadel which she

called her heart. And she had been so sure that no man would ever have

the power to do that again.

The summer of her reign these first two years had been; her power,

her glorious power, untouched by her harmless flirtation. And now it was

spoilt, spoilt, spoilt! She threw an inkpot from her desk into the empty

hearth in a tearful temper. Could she really have been so
stupid
as to fall in

love with him? Had she learnt nothing from the past, after all? She sank

into a chair and covered her face with her hands in an attitude of despair.

What a fool she was, what a fool! Was it about to happen all over again,

the whole ugly sordid business? She did not doubt his friendship, but she

281

Susan Kay

doubted his love, and her suspicion, now suddenly thrown into clear

focus, was like a physical pain.

She sat very still in her chair, utterly miserable. He wanted her

crown—all very natural, she could even understand it—but she could

never take the risk of believing in his love.

I will not trust my body or my soul to anyone in this world
.

How in God’s name had she ever let it go so far, permitting a court

flirtation to become a determined pursuit of her crown? And all because

she had thought she was clever enough to play with fire and not be

burnt! There was only one thing to do and that was to put an end to it

by sending him away, lightheartedly, casually, as though the whole thing

were no more than a joke to her. Let him ride back to Norfolk and cool

his ardour with that silly little country bitch! Yes—that was it—she would

send him away tonight, tomorrow, next week. Soon!

And the future? Bleak years of using herself like so much political

merchandise, buying time for England, time and peace and the chance