Lost Love Found (17 page)

“May I have this dance, madam?” asked Thomas Ashbourne.

“Nay, Tom, ’tis my dance, I am certain,” countered Padraic.

“I will not dance again this evening, my lords,” she told them firmly, “and please do not draw any more attention to us than you already have. I will have no scandal.”

“There you are, my dear,” said Lady Scrope, unwittingly coming to her rescue. “The queen would have you attend her, Lady Barrows.”

“My lords,” said Valentina, curtsying to her two escorts. She turned quickly and followed Lady Scrope.

“She is mine,” Lord Burke said quietly without even turning to look at his opponent.

“Nay, Padraic, she will be mine,” said the Earl of Kempe.

“ ’Tis to be a battle to the altar then, Tom?”

“Aye. No quarter given and none taken,” was the reply. “And may the best man win.”

“I intend to.” Lord Burke chuckled. “Oh, I intend to, Tom. This time ’twill not be like it was in Cádiz.”

“When I won the fair Maria-Constanza from you?”

“When you
stole
the fair señorita from me,” said Lord Burke. “This time the wench is mine, Tom.”

“Only if you win her, Padraic. Only if you win her,” said the Earl of Kempe softly.

Chapter 4

T
he queen’s council was to meet in secret at Lord Buckhurst’s home. Elizabeth Tudor slipped quietly from the palace with only one lady in attendance, for the queen did not wish her absence to be known. She took with her young Lady Barrows.

“You are not well-enough known yet to be missed, my child,” said the queen as their coach moved through the city. “And I know you can be discreet and will say nothing of what you hear today.”

“I am first and always Your Majesty’s loyal servant,” replied Valentina.

“So I have discovered,” the queen answered graciously. “My cousin, Kate Carey, tells me ’twas you who suggested that my menus be changed. She says you worried that I was not getting enough to eat and that you feared my strength would be sapped at a time when I need it most. Like your mother, you have eyes that actually
see
. Yet you are not a gossip.”

“I merely wished to aid Your Majesty,” said Valentina, choosing her words carefully, for the queen would not tolerate any reference to her age.

“Humph.” The queen chuckled, saying nothing further but reading Valentina’s thoughts accurately.

They were ushered into Lord Buckhurst’s large and comfortable library. The queen was seated in a chair by a blazing fire and Valentina was offered a stool by her side. The council was already present.

Robert Cecil drew in a breath, exhaled it, and then began. “I have only just learned that Lord Mounteagle and several others, whose names will for now remain unspoken, went across the river into Southwark to the Globe Theatre, where they bribed the Lord Chamberlain’s Players to stage, this afternoon, a special performance of
Richard II
.

“For weeks Essex has been in correspondence with James of Scotland, and although the wily royal Stewart has apparently not offered our rebellious earl any direct aid, James’s continued correspondence with Essex may be taken as encouragement of Essex’s plot. Of that plot, I now have full details.”

The queen nodded. “Say on, Pygmy. I would know the worst now rather than later.”

Cecil nodded, then went on. “Essex’s stepfather, Lord Blount, and Lord Charles Danvers are to be here within Whitehall, strategically placed. Several gentlemen are to be placed at the Royal Mint and others at the Tower. When all is in readiness, the Earl of Essex plans to enter Your Majesty’s privy chamber and secure your person.”

“Does he, indeed?” Elizabeth cried. There was the slightest touch of her old humor.

Robert Cecil continued, the eyes of all the council upon him. “The earl believes that once Your Majesty is in his keeping, London will declare for him.”

“The fool!” said the queen. “London has been my city since the beginning. It will never turn on me.”

The others murmured firm agreement.

“To what purpose does Essex attempt this rebellion, Pygmy?” Elizabeth asked of Robert Cecil.

Robert Cecil allowed himself a rare dry chuckle. “To rid himself of me … and anyone else on whom Your Majesty depends who is at odds with the earl. He intends to declare a protectorship over Your Majesty with himself as lord protector until such time as …” Cecil hesitated.

“He seeks to rule in my name until I am dead and my successor takes the throne,” said the queen bluntly.

Sir Robert nodded.

Elizabeth shook her head. “Gentlemen,” she asked, “where did I fail with young Robin? Others have served me well, but young Robin seems incapable of serving anyone but himself. I have warned him often enough that there is but one ruler of England.” She sighed so deeply and sadly that Valentina took the queen’s hand in hers and placed it against her cheek in a silent effort to comfort her.

Elizabeth Tudor gave the hand in hers a little squeeze. “So,” she said, “he would have Master Shakespeare’s play staged, questioning the divine right of kings and showing the deposing of a monarch, so he might whet the public’s appetite and gain support for his little treason. Oh, Essex! You great fool! I was queen of this land long before you were a glint in your mother’s eye. That she-wolf! ’Tis Lettice he takes after, y’know! She is probably in this, too, as her young husband is. The bitch! First she would have Dudley from me, and now her son must have my throne!”

“Do not distress yourself, dear madam,” Robert Cecil comforted his mistress. “There is yet a small chance that the Earl of Essex may be brought to repentance.”

Tension rose, filling the room, for there was not a man there who believed such a thing was possible.

“What would you do?” the queen demanded.

“Let us send a summons to the earl asking him to wait on the council. Perhaps he can explain his actions.”

“More than likely he cannot,” muttered Lord Buckhurst, the royal treasurer.

“Do it!” The queen’s words were sharp and staccato.

A summons was sent to Essex House requesting the earl’s immediate attendance on the Privy Council, but the courier was jeered by Essex’s friends, newly returned from the theater where they had just seen a spirited performance of
Richard II
. The courier was not even allowed to see the earl, who begged to be excused.

The courier returned to Lord Buckhurst’s house and explained his failure.

“Repentant? Hah!” The queen snorted.

“Patience, dear madam,” Cecil soothed her. “The earl has climbed the scaffold steps. Let us allow him at least the opportunity to put his own head in the noose before we pull it tight.” He ordered the guard around the palace doubled.

Master John Herbert, the council’s chief secretary, was sent to Essex House with the same summons to appear before the Privy Council. At first the earl tried to avoid receiving him, but John Herbert was no mere courier. He was a member of the Earl of Pembroke’s family. The Earl of Essex could not see him now? John Herbert would wait until Essex could see him. Here was a quandary, and Essex knew it. With much bad grace he allowed John Herbert into his presence, where he received the summons to appear before the Privy Council.

“Tell them I cannot come now,” the earl said.

“ ’Tis not that simple, my lord Essex,” replied John Herbert quietly. “Why can you not come? If you refuse the summons, I must know the reason. Otherwise your actions may be, well, misunderstood. Misinterpreted, even.”

“I fear for my life,” was the reply. “Lord Grey attacked me in the Strand tonight. I fear to leave the safety of my house lest I be murdered. The council must understand this. I will not come because I dare not!”

“Enough,” said Elizabeth Tudor, when Master Herbert reported all of this. “It is almost midnight. We will meet in the palace council chamber at dawn to decide what to do about my lord of Essex.”

The queen was silent as the coach returned to Whitehall. She had not, in all the hours they had been at Lord Buckhurst’s, let go of Valentina’s hand. Now as they reached the queen’s apartments, she did so, saying simply, “Thank you, Lady Barrows, for your help.”

Valentina curtsied to the queen and hurried off to her own apartment.

“Where have you been?” Nan demanded. “Both Lord Burke and the Earl of Kempe have been here asking for you twenty times over.”

“I was with the queen, and ask me no more,” Valentina told her, knowing better than to say more.

There came a knock at the door, and a grumbling Nan admitted Lord Burke. Before he could speak, Valentina said, “I was with the queen, and I do not wish to be interrogated.”

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

“No,” she said, suddenly realizing how hungry she was.

“Go to the kitchen, Nan. They will give you something for your mistress. I will keep her company while you are gone.”

With a broad grin, Nan bobbed him a curtsy and hurried off.

Without warning, Lord Burke picked Valentina up. Walking over to the blazing fireplace, he settled himself in a tapestried wing chair, cradling her. “You look exhausted,” he said.

“I have been with the queen since early afternoon,” replied Val.

“You are not used to this life. She is, and she sometimes forgets that others don’t have her stamina. Why did she not take one of her own ladies with her? Why you, Val?”

“She wanted someone who would not be missed, although with you and Tom Ashburne both knocking at my door all evening, it was obvious that I was not here,” Valentina said wryly.

He massaged the back of her neck. “You are not used to such long hours,” he repeated, and she said, “Stop cosseting me, Padraic. Though I admit to never having lived this way before, I find court life stimulating.”

He leaned over and kissed her soundly.

“I cannot think when you do things like that,” she protested, pulling her head away.

“I do not want you to think, Val.” He laughed, cradling her closer. “You think far too much, hinny love. I want you to stop thinking, to stop considering everything you do so carefully. I want to sweep you off your feet, my practical country girl. How can I do that if you deliberate about everything so?”

“Oh, Padraic.” She sighed. “I am so tired. But even tired, I will not be cajoled into making a hasty decision regarding my life. The last time I made such a decision, I made it for my mother, who worried, and for my sisters. The next time I wed it must be because I really want to wed. Can you not understand?”

“Aye,” he answered, “but you must understand that I lost you once, Val. Had I for one moment suspected that you did not love Edward Barrows, I’d have claimed you for my own. I cannot,
will not
, lose you a second time. I love you, Val. Do you not love me just a little?”

“I do not know, Padraic. I honestly do not know. You are Padraic Burke, my cousin and my best friend. I have loved you my whole life—but I am not certain that the love I feel for you is the kind of love you seek.”

He kissed her again, slowly and passionately this time, moving his lips over hers softly. “I think you love me, Val, even if you are not ready to admit it.”

“All I know,” she murmured, “is that you turn my bones to water each time you kiss me. But is that love? Tom Ashburne has a similar effect upon me.”

He sighed. She would not be easy to win. He had waited for her his whole life, and now having finally admitted that to himself, he could not lose her.

Valentina grew silent, and soon he realized she had fallen asleep. He carried her into her little bedchamber and laid her gently on her bed, drawing the coverlet over her.

Leaving the room, he found Nan returning with a tray.

“She has fallen asleep,” he told the tiring woman.

“She cannot sleep in her clothes,” Nan said, fussing.

“I will be most happy to help you undress her, Nan,” teased Lord Burke.

“Oh, m’lord! Yer a terror, ye surely are.” Nan chuckled. “I’ll need no help, thank you!”

Padraic returned to his mother’s house, Greenwood, on the Strand.

“What do ye hear of the earl of Essex and the queen, me lord?” asked the werryman who ferried him along the river from Whitehall to Greenwood.

“You probably know more than I do,” said Padraic, “but the gossip at the palace is that Essex is near to treason.”

“Aye, and that’s a fact,” the werryman agreed. “He’s an eager young fellow, but he ain’t Queen Bess for all she’s naught but an old lady now.”

He had difficulty falling asleep, for his mind was far too full of Valentina. She claimed to want a bold suitor, but he wondered how bold a man she actually desired. He could have had her tonight, he thought pensively. She might be facing her twenty-first birthday, and she might be a widow, but she knew nothing of passion. He had not needed her admission that his kisses turned her bones to water, he had known it. The way in which her lush young body moved against his told him that. She was a powder keg only awaiting a match, and he wanted to be that match, but then there was the matter of Tom Ashburne. Lord Burke found himself in a quandary. His family was not one to force a marriage upon any of its children so that road was closed to him. He would really have to win her to him.