Queen Elizabeth's Daughter (14 page)

The ladies and a few of the Gentlemen Pensioners followed the queen and Lord Robert, tramping through the dirt paths, still partly frozen but thawed enough to ruin the hems of the ladies’ gowns. Mary tried to gather up her skirts but she could not prevent a spattering of mud. The queen and Lord Robert climbed to the royal box while the rest of the ladies milled around below.

“I do not like these bearbaitings,” said Mistress Eleanor, as she shielded her eyes from the cold glare of the winter sun. “It seems cruel to force the creatures to fight one another.”

“Yes, but at least the bear usually lives—the bullbaiting is worse for the dogs kill the bull and then he is roasted. Luckily for the bear, we have no use for his meat,” said Mary, placing her hands in her muff of fox fur.

“I wish I had remembered to bring
my
muff,” said Mistress Eleanor, shivering a little.

“I shall share mine with you. Look! They are bringing in old Harry Hunks—I have seen him fight the dogs before and he is very strong. One swipe of his paw can knock a dog senseless,” said Mary.

A man entered the arena leading a large black bear by a chain. He staked the bear in the center and walked to a gate behind, where several Lyme mastiffs growled and snarled. He opened the gate to allow one dog to escape. The hound barked loudly at the bear, then began to circle the chained beast. Then, suddenly, the dog leaped onto the bear and bit down on the animal’s nose. The dog clamped its jaws shut tight and the bear roared and tried to dislodge the dog.

“Come, Eleanor, let us weave our way through this crowd and walk a bit. I do not like to watch, either. I wonder that the queen is fond of such sport,” said Mary, linking arms with Mistress Eleanor. “I suppose it is because her father, the king, enjoyed every sort of contest, whether between men or beasts.”

“Do I smell hot apple codlings?” said Mistress Eleanor.

“Yes! Don’t they smell wonderful! Cinnamon, perhaps a pinch of nutmeg—oh, something hot will warm us a little,” said Mary, as she and Mistress Eleanor approached a woman standing in front of an oven with a tray of baked apples in pastry still steaming.

The young women stood in the small line that had formed and Mary listened as the onlookers shouted encouragement to Harry Hunks.

“Mistress Mary? Can it be?” said a familiar voice behind her. She turned to find herself face-to-face with Sir John Skydemore and he held a wooden trencher filled with hot codlings. Mary inhaled the sweet fragrance. She could not help the smile that spread across her face, nor the quick beating of her heart.

“I am happy to see you, Sir John. You have been away?” said Mary, at once shy with him, remembering their last encounter at Dr. Dee’s home.

“Yes. I had to return to Holme Lacy. One of the children was sick and my oldest son needed to be reminded of the importance of obeying his tutor. It is hard to be away from them, knowing they do not have their mother’s care. My own mother was recalled to her duties at home, and now I have procured a nursemaid to care for them,” said Sir John, offering her and Mistress Eleanor an apple.

“Thank you—oh, they are hot!” said Mistress Eleanor, wrapping hers in the edge of her cloak.

“I can imagine how difficult such absences must be for you,” said Mary, carefully biting into the apple. She tasted the warm flesh of it and the somewhat tender peel. She noticed the tops had been sprinkled with sugar.

“It is just as hard being away from court and my own studies,” said Sir John. The threesome walked farther away from the crowd, finding a pocket of privacy beneath the branches of an oak tree.

“I trust you did not fall too far behind. What are you learning this term?” said Mary.

“Rhetoric and English common law. But my favorite subject is the history of the church—I find it fascinating,” said Sir John, leaning against the tree trunk.

He explained how he was surprised to discover there had always been dissension in matters of religion, even among the Church Fathers. Now that dissension was fomenting again, this time among the extreme Protestants, the Catholics, and those who tried to make a middle way between the two, the Anglican Church itself, the queen’s church. As he continued, Mary could see he took these questions of religion, ideas to which she had given scarce thought, quite seriously. Then he spoke the words that made her quake inside.

“If you wonder why I find all this ancient history of interest, it is because I am Catholic, Mary,” he said calmly, without fear.

“Shh! Someone might hear you! Do you not know how dangerous it is for people of your beliefs, especially after the recent uprising?” whispered Mary.

“I have no reason to fear—I am the queen’s true subject; she knows that. My entire family, along with Sir James, keep the old ways. Because of my service, and that of my father-in-law, she turns a blind eye to my faith,” said Sir John.

“I am sure she does. Yet many of her ‘true’ subjects are held in yon Tower,” said Mary.

“There must be other reasons. Perhaps some have spoken out in public against the English church. I do not speak against anything; I quietly go about my way, serving the queen as best I can,” said Sir John.

“But how can you
believe
such things? You are an educated man! Do you truly think some splinter of wood is from the cross of Christ? That statues of the Virgin weep blood? This is superstitious nonsense,” said Mary, repeating what she’d been taught by her tutors.

“Perhaps these are tricks used to persuade the ignorant multitude of the veracity of God’s word. Or maybe some need a visual representation to remind them of that which is invisible. As for me, I am not opposed to new ideas or new interpretations. But I find great comfort in the familiar rituals of the Mass,” said Sir John.

Mary grew quiet. She enjoyed debating these issues with her tutors and fellow students, where it was safe to take any side, knowing they were all in agreement for the most part. But in the middle of London, to talk about such things with a Catholic man who did not seem aware of the danger his beliefs brought to him was something else. The debate was frightening to her. This was not a man with whom she could dare to share a friendship. She had seen the queen in a rage over the smallest thing; she could not imagine Her Majesty’s ire if Mary entertained a Catholic man who had already told her he wanted to court her.

At the beginning of her reign, the queen had hoped to allow each subject his own beliefs, so long as he obeyed the laws of the land and showed himself loyal to her. She did not want to burn pyres at Smithfield as her sister, Queen Mary, had done. But as time passed and Cecil found plot upon plot devised by Catholic malcontents, the queen had been forced to deal more harshly with religious dissenters. Mary could name a handful of devious men who had been clapped into the Tower for continuing to worship as they pleased. She shivered slightly and turned to Mistress Eleanor, who had been standing to one side to give them privacy.

“I think the poor dog has been killed. They are taking the bear out and now come the horses, with monkeys riding them! I am amazed those monkeys ride so well,” said Mistress Eleanor, who had been watching the bearbaiting from a safe distance.

“Mistress Mary, I have enjoyed our talk. I hope we shall meet again soon to discuss this and other matters of interest,” said Sir John. He bowed to both women and strolled over to join Sir James Croft and a circle of other men.

“We should return to the queen,” said Mistress Eleanor, taking Mary by the hand.

Seventeen

Shrovetide 1570

“I hear tell the queen hopes to marry one of that French queen’s sons,” said Old Catspaw as she brought freshly pressed linens to the queen’s bedchamber. Mary and the other ladies could not believe the woman was alive after all these years, yet still able to serve the queen. Catspaw’s hair was as white as the linens she carried, her body bent over so that her spine seemed to be coming into itself. The few teeth she had left were brown and ragged, chipped and rotten. Mary could not help but shiver when the old woman passed by, though she was fond of her and knew Catspaw was wise in the ways of medicines and cordials.

“The queen will do as the queen will do—it is not up to such as
you
to question or gossip,” said Lady Douglass Sheffield, newly appointed to serve the queen upon the death of Lord Sheffield, her husband. She had thick blond hair that curled when she let it down. As a widow, she was required to wear her hair beneath a net or in a bun, which made her look older than her years, for she was ten years younger than the queen, a pretty twenty-seven.

“Yes, Your Worship,” said Catspaw, hobbling back to the servants’ quarters.

“I do not know why that woman is still serving Her Majesty! She looks quite ugly,” said Lady Douglass, peering into the hand mirror on the queen’s silver table. She pinched her cheeks and smiled at her reflection.

“No one presses the queen’s shifts and nightgowns so well as Old Catspaw. Her Majesty has lessened her work load, so she works only two days a week. And the queen has given her a couple of young maids to assist her,” said Mary, putting the items in the queen’s wardrobe while Lady Douglass continued to make faces into the glass. “Perhaps you could assist me?”

“I’m sure you can manage … what is your name again?” said Lady Douglass.

“Mary Shelton, cousin to the
queen,
” said Mary, her tone as haughty as that of Lady Douglass. Mary glanced at Mistress Eleanor, who smothered a laugh with her hand.

“Humph. I shall try to recall that name. I shall take my leave of you now. Lord Robert has invited me to inspect the stables and select a suitable mount,” said Lady Douglass.

“But who shall mount whom?” whispered Mistress Eleanor after Lady Douglass had left the room.

“Ha! But she is horrid! She does not do any of the work, but when the queen comes in, she makes a great show of serving Her Majesty and is the first to meet her needs. And how she bats her eyes at Lord Robert, her voice honeyed. I like her not!” said Mary, stacking the last of the garments on the shelves and bringing out the queen’s new black gown.

“I think the silver sleeves with gold trim might look well with this. What do you say, Nora?” said Mary, spreading the sleeve out on the bed so they might view the garments together.

“Oh yes, the queen will be pleased,” said Mistress Eleanor.

“Have you seen your young artist of late?” said Mary, now brushing the queen’s black velvet cloak to remove any dust.

“Yes, he has asked me to meet him at the Shrovetide festivities this eve. He grows more demanding, though, with every meeting. At first, he wished only to kiss my hand. Then, he wished to hold my hand. Now, he is not happy unless he has kissed me many times on the mouth. He is like all the rest, though I have learned my lesson—I keep him at bay!” said Mistress Eleanor.

“Does this mean you have not kept others at bay?” said Mary, in a hushed voice.

“Do not act surprised—surely you must know that to be at court and keep one’s virtue is almost impossible. If you do not know it yet, you soon shall. For you have caught the eye of the most notorious rake here!” said Mistress Eleanor.

“I have? You cannot mean Sir John Skydemore,” said Mary.

“No, no, no. He is serious and
old,
” said Mistress Eleanor.

“He is not
old
—just a few years older than I,” said Mary.

“Well, he acts old. No, the one who has eyes for you is my lord Oxford. He has told everyone how he shall breach your walls and conquer you,” said Mistress Eleanor.

“Humph. He says he wishes to court me, with the goal of marriage. But he has not mentioned his intentions to the queen. I do not think him an honest man,” said Mary.

“Oxford is one of the queen’s favorites. And, truth be told, he would be a fine match for you. I suspect the queen would agree, if he asked her,” said Mistress Eleanor.

“This is not good news. For, though he is of noble rank, he makes me afraid,” said Mary.

“As well he should. He has deflowered many a maid at court. He is well schooled in the ways of winning a woman,” said Mistress Eleanor.

The trumpets and drums announced the queen’s meal was on its way to the Privy Chamber.

“Come, friend, we are needed. Let us hope the queen will sup quickly so we can clear the tables and enjoy tonight’s fun,” said Mistress Eleanor.

*   *   *

The Great Hall at Hampton Court looked even more sumptuous as the men and ladies glittered in their finery. The queen glided into the hall on Lord Robert’s arm, radiant and happy. The new black gown suited her, with the silver sleeves and kirtle accenting the rich damask dress beautifully. Pearls dangled from her ears, her hair, her skirts. Lord Robert looked especially fine, his green brocade doublet a good match for his dark coloring. Mary never tired of watching the queen and her Master of the Horse. She thought if two ever loved truly, these were they.

A large table set with goblets and pitchers of ale and wine stood to one side of the room, while directly across sat another table filled with trays of bread, meats, sweetmeats, and tarts of all kinds. In the center, a creation of marchpane in the shape of a nymph commanded everyone’s attention. In the nymph’s chubby arms was a bow and quiver of arrows. All those married knew that tonight would be their last night for conjugal bliss as the forty days of Lent commenced in the morning. Urgency and longing were palpable in the looks men gave their women. Mary wondered what it would be like to share such naked looks with a husband. She followed Mistress Eleanor to the tables.

“The queen has hung new Turkey carpets—look. There and there,” said Mistress Eleanor, pointing.

“Yes, and the courtiers are all dressed in such exquisite dresses and jewelry,” said Mary, running her fingers around the small pearls the queen had given her.

“Uh-oh. Do not look. The Earl of Oxford has spied you already. He comes this way,” said Mistress Eleanor, ducking behind Mary to grab a golden goblet filled with wine.

Mary watched as Oxford strolled over to her, his walk confident and a smile on his face. His pale blue eyes stared into hers with each purposeful step. She felt her knees weaken and suddenly she realized she was afraid. She could feel her body throbbing as he grew closer.