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Authors: Victoria Holt

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Medieval, #Victorian

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In this domestic atmosphere it was natural that I should become pregnant again. Two years after Robert birth, I produced yet another son and this time I thought it only fair to name him after his father. So he became Walter.

Events of great moment had been happening in the outside world during those years. Darnley, the husband of Mary Queen of Scots, had died mysteriously in a house in Kirk oField just outside Edinburgh. This house had been blown up by gunpowder quite obviously in an attempt to remove Darnley, but the unfortunate man must have had warning of the explosion and had tried to escape. He did not get very far. He was found in the garden of the houseead but untouched by the explosion, and as there was no sign of violence it was presumed that he had been suffocated by a damp cloth being held over his mouth. So it was clearly a case of murder. Since Mary was deeply enamored of the Earl of Bothwellnd hated her husband Darnleynd Bothwell had divorced his wife, it seemed clear who was behind the murder.

I must confess that when the news came to Chartley of what had happened I felt a strong desire to be at Court so that I might acquire Elizabeth reactions at firsthand. I could imagine the horror she would express and the delight she would hide at the predicament in which the Queen of Scots must find herself. At the same time she might be a little uneasy. People would surely be reminded of a similar dilemma in which she had been caught when Robert Dudley wife had been found dead at the bottom of that staircase in Cumnor Place.

If the Queen of Scots married Bothwell, her throne would surely be in jeopardy. It would be assumed that she had been an accomplice in her husband murder. Moreover, her position was by no means as strong as Elizabeth. I could never prevent myself smiling when I remembered the chorus of adulation every time the Queen appeared, and even men like Cecil and Bacon seemed to think she was divine. I sometimes thought that she insisted on this partly because she could not forget the existence of the Queen of Scots, who, common sense told her, was more beautiful than she could ever be even with all her false hair, her chalk and rouge and extravagantly glittering garments.

Events followed quickly after that. At first I would not believe it when I heard that Mary had lost no time in marrying Bothwell. Foolish woman! Why had she not considered the example of our shrewd and wily Elizabeth at the time of her involvement? Mary could not have proclaimed her guilt more loudly to the world; and even if she had not been concerned in Darnley murder, the stories about Bothwell being her lover while Darnley lived now appeared to be true.

In a brief space of time there had followed the defeat at Carberry Hill. I felt so restive then. I wanted to be at Court, to see those large tawny eyes expressing so much while they hid so much more. She would be angry at the insult to royalty. Many people remembered that Catherine of Valois, widow of Henry the Fifth, had entered into a not very reputable liaison with Owen Tudor, a Welshman of obscure background and no fortune to speak of. Whether they had even married or not was uncertain; but by him she had three sons, the eldest of whom married Margaret Beaufort and became the Earl of Richmond; and these two were the parents of Henry the Seventh. A flimsy claim to the throne indeed, and so, because of her somewhat doubtful Tudor roots, she was always insistent that due honor be paid to the blood royal. She would deplore the fact that a queen had ridden through the streets of Edinburgh seated on a jennet wearing a tradeswoman red petticoat while the mob shouted hore and murderessafter her. Yet at the same time she would be remembering that Mary had dared call herself Queen of England and that there were some Catholics in the country who would be ready to risk a good dealncluding their liveso see Mary on the throne, and a return to Catholicism.

No, Elizabeth would never forget that this foolish woman above the Border was a very great threat to that crown, which was so essentially hers and which she would not share even with the man she loved.

And Robert? What would he be thinking? This was the woman to whom he had been offered in marriage, who had referred to him slightingly as he Queen Horse Master.I was sure that his pride was such that he could not but enjoy a certain satisfaction to see her brought so low.

There was defeat, capture and imprisonment at Lochleven, escape from Lochleven and yet another disastrous and final defeat at Langside andolly of folliesary was so deluded as to think she might receive help from er dear sister of England.

I could imagine that dear sister excitement at the prospect of having her greatest rival deliver herself, of her own free will, into her hands.

Soon after Mary had arrived in England we had a visit from my father. His mood was one of mingling apprehension and pride, and when I heard the reason for his visit I could well understand his mood.

The Queen and Sir William Cecil had sent for him and told him that they had a mission for him.

t is a sign of my trust and faith in you, Cousin, he proudly told me the Queen had said to him; and he went on: am to be guardian of the Queen of Scots. I am going up to Carlisle Castle, where Lord Scrope will join me in this task.

Walter said it was one he would not welcome.

hy not?I demanded. he Queen would only entrust it to one in whom she had complete trust.

hat so,agreed Walter, ut it will be a dangerous task. Where Mary of Scotland is there is trouble.

ot now she is in England,said my father, rather naively, I thought.

ut she will be your prisoner and you her jailer,Walter pointed out. ust suppose that

He did not finish, but we knew what he meant. If ever Mary rallied enough forces to her banner and fought for the throne of England and won it, what of those who, on the instructions of her rival, had acted as her jailers? Moreover, what if she escaped? Walter was thinking that he would not care to be the one who might be held responsible for that calamity.

Oh yes, it was a considerable responsibility that my father had taken on.

But merely to mention the possibility of Elizabeth being replaced was treason. All the same we couldn help the thought being in our minds.

e shall guard her carefully,said my father, et at the same time not let her know that she is a prisoner.

ou set yourself an impossible task, Father,I told him.

think that perhaps it is God will,was his answer. t may be that I have been selected to turn her thoughts from Catholicism, which I believe to be the root of all her troubles.

My father was a very innocent man, which may well have been due to his simple faith. With the passing of the years his devotion to Protestantism had increased, and it was bringing him to the belief that all those not of his faith were doomed to damnation.

I did not challenge him on this. He was a good man and I was fond of him, as I was of my mother; and I did not wish them to know how different was my outlook from theirs. I often wondered what they would have thought had they known of my brief liaison with Robert Dudley. That they would have been deeply shocked I was well aware.

My father had with him some clothes which he was taking from Elizabeth to Mary. I said I should like to see them and, rather to my surprise, my father allowed me to. I had expected some queenly garmentsuffed and slashed and decorated with gems, lace ruffs, silken undergowns, linen petticoats and of course jeweled and embroidered overgowns. All I found were some shoes, very well worn, a piece of black velvet to be made into a dress and some undergarments which were clearly not new.

And this was the gift of the Queen of England to Mary, who was noted throughout France and Scotland for her elegance! Such garments would be scorned by her maids.

I was sorry for Mary, and once again I felt the urge to be at the center of events, to know firsthand and not rely on visitors who came riding to Chartley and would tell us what had happened weeks after it had taken place. I was not of a nature to enjoy standing aside and merely looking on.

Soon after my son Walter was born, two events took place.

The Queen of Scots had been moved from Carlisle Castle to that of Bolton. My father was a little fascinated by her, as most men were who came into contact with her; but in my father case the effect of this was to make him want to save her soul rather than enjoy her body; and I heard that he was attempting to convert her to our faith. She had by this time realized how foolish she had been to put her trust in Elizabeth and walk straight into her enemy camp. It was true she might have done no better if she had gone to France, but who could be sure of that? She had not exactly endeared herself to Catherine deMedici, the Queen Mother, and there was a woman as wily as our own Elizabeth and certainly more lethal. Poor Maryhere she was with three countries to chose from: Scotland, from which she had fled; France, where she might have had a fair reception from her Guise relationsnd England, which she chose.

She had made an attempt to escape by the romantic but often not very practical method of sliding down the walls by means of knotted sheets, and had been caught by Lord Scrope, and naturally after that her jailers had been obliged to increase security. Lady Scrope, who was with her husband, was the sister of the Duke of Norfolk, and she it was who talked so glowingly of the attractions of her brother to the Queen of Scots that Mary became interested in Norfolk, and thus the foolish man was drawn into a web of intrigue which was to result in his downfall.

In due course there came the rebellion of the Northern Lords and my husband was called to his duty. He joined the Earl of Warwick forces and became Marshal of the Field.

My mother had been ill for some time, and she wrote telling us of the Queen great sympathy for her. o one could have been kinder than Her Majesty,wrote my mother. ow lucky we are in our sovereign lady.

It was true that Elizabeth was loyal to her friends. She had given poor Lady Mary Sidney an apartment in Hampton Court, where she came sometimes to stay in retirement because she hated to show her pockmarked face; and Elizabeth visited her regularly and would sit for a long time chatting with her. She made it clear that she did not forget that Lady Sidney had acquired her scars while nursing her.

Then I received a message.

I was to return to Court.

My excitement was intense. Why had I ever thought my simple country pleasures would compensate me for the excitement of the Court? And when I say ourtI mean of course those two who were so often in my thoughts. The very prospect of returning set my nerves tingling.

I could scarcely wait to get there.

I went straight to the Queen, who had given orders that I should be brought to her. I was unprepared for her greeting. As I would have knelt she took me in her arms and kissed me. I was astonished but I soon learned the reason.

am stricken with grief, Lettice,she said. our mother is very ill indeed.The large eyes were glazed a little. greatly fear She shook her head. ou must go to her at once.

I had hated her. She had deprived me of what I most wanted in life. But in that moment I almost loved her. Perhaps it was because of that capacity in her for friendship and loyalty to those whom she loved. And she loved my mother.

ell her,she said, hat she is in my thoughts. Tell her that, Lettice.

She put her arm through mine and walked with me to the door. It was as though she had forgiven me for anything of which she might have suspected me because she shared my grief.

With my brothers and sisters I was at my mother bedside when she died. I knelt by her bed and gave her the Queen message. I knew by the expression which flitted across her face that she had understood.

erve God and the Queen,she murmured. h, my children, remember

And that was all.

Elizabeth was certainly deeply moved. She insisted that my mother be buried at her expense in St. Edmund Chapel. She sent for me and told me how deeply she had loved her cousin and that her loss would be sincerely felt. She meant it, I know, and she was tender to us all temporarily. I believe at this time she even forgave me for catching Robert eye.

After the funeral she called me to her and talked about my parentsow she had loved my mother, how she esteemed my father.

here was a family bond between your mother and me,she said, nd she was a good and gentle soul. I hope you will follow her example.

I told her wistfully that I missed serving her and she answered: h, but you have compensations. How many is it now four?

es, Madam, two girls and two boys.

ou are fortunate.

count myself so, Madam.

hat is well. There was a time when I thought you had a roving eye.

adam!

She gave me a slap on the arm. t seemed so. I esteem Walter Devereux. He is a man who deserves nothing but good.

e will be overwhelmed with joy to hear that he has Your Majesty good opinion.

lucky man. He has his heir. What have you called him?

obert, Madam.

She looked at me sharply. Then she said: good name. A favorite of mine.

f mine now, Your Majesty.

shall reward your husband for his services to us. Lord Warwick has spoken of him most warmly, and I have decided one way in which I will show my appreciation.

ay I be allowed to ask what that is, Your Majesty?

ertainly. I am sending his wife back to Chartley, so that when he returns to his home he will find her there.

e is at this moment busily engaged in the North.

is so. But we have got the better of these rebels, and should he return I would not have him disappointed and missing his wife.

It was dismissal. The friendliness she had felt in our mutual grief was over. I was not to be forgiven for Robert brief interest in me.

My children were growing up. Penelope was nearly ten and Robert five. The domestic life, however, could never satisfy me. I was certainly not in love with my husband and felt little excitement during his visits. I was growing more and more restive because life was so dull. I was fond of my childrennd in particular young Robertut a child of five could not compensate a woman of my nature and provide the stimulus she needs.

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