The Manner of Amy's Death (18 page)

       Late
r that night I slip down the stairs and light a candle in the kitchen.  I take the folds of paper, each of which contains Amy’s powdered medication, and empty the contents on the floor, sweeping the powder around with a brush to disperse it.  I find a jar of flour which I mix with a little powdered gypsum I bought from an old woman who sells herbs and potions in the village and I carefully measure out a little into each paper, folding it closed again.   Then I put the new papers of ‘medicine’ back into the cabinet, locking it, dropping the key onto the floor and kicking it into a corner where I will pretend to discover it in the morning.  I extinguish the candle and make my way back up the stairs lit by the moonlight shining through the window.

       Within a few days Amy’
s feeling much better.  So much better that we arrange to visit friends of her brother who live in Suffolk accompanied, as always now, by the ever watchful Thomas Blount.  In late May, back at Throcking Manor, Amy delightedly receives the news that she’s invited to Christchurch, the house Robert uses in London.

       “It’
s so I can travel with him to Windsor,” says Amy joyfully, “For the Garter ceremony.  Kat, I’m so happy.  I knew he wouldn’t forget me and that all the talk about Robert and Elizabeth was false.  It’s the start of a new life for us.”  Amy flings her arms round me and does a little dance. 

      Thomas Blount looks on with a half smile.

A Disappointment

Robert sends his servants to transport the whole of Amy’s household from Throcking Manor to London. Mr Hyde walks with us to our baggage train and helps us both into the first litter.  We’re travelling in style as befits the wife of a leading courtier and her retinue.

       “Well …. Goodbye
my Lady and you too, Mistress Katherine.  Fare you well and God bless you,” says Mr Hyde stiffly. 

       “Thank you kindly, Mr Hyde” says Amy happily,
“We are indeed fortunate and I’m sure that Milord Robert will not forget your help and loyalty to all of us.”

       Mr Hyde bows in acknowledgement of the compliment.

       “But where is Mrs Hyde,” continues Amy, oblivious to the formality of Hyde’s parting words.

       “She is, er ……, somewhat indisposed,” says Hyde embarrassed, “But she sends you her best wishes and says God speed.  She says that she hopes we will all meet again some day.”

       “All we, who live in the belief that Christ Jesus will save us, will indeed meet again,” says Amy brightly.

       “Indeed,” says Mr Hyde formally, “And now, God speed.”

       I can’t help noticing that this departure is different from previous ones.  There are no little cakes, preserves and savouries to eat on the journey and Mrs Hyde has given us a cold shoulder.  Mr Hyde is more remote and less affectionate towards us and is behaving as if this will be our final visit to his home.  Amy seems to think that this means that he expects her to have a life at court from now on but, to me, it suggests something else.  It suggests that Amy’s accusations of poisoning have stung Mr Hyde deeply and he has requested that someone else take responsibility for the health of ‘Milord Robert’s wife’ - hence the lack of provisions for the journey.  I hope I’m wrong.

      We depart from Throcking and three days later, having stayed at the best inns, arrive
at Christchurch.  When the carriages roll into the courtyard Amy expects to see Robert rushing out to greet her but he’s not there.  She sweeps into the Great Hall.

       “Where is my Lord Robert?” she demands imperiously.  The servants regard each other fearfully.  Sir Richard Verney steps forward and sneers at the omnip
resent Blount.  Turning to Amy, he says unsmilingly, “He’s gone to his home in Kew, my Lady  ……. to await his installation as a Garter Knight.” 

        “But when are we to join him?” asks a bewildered Amy.

       “You will not join him.  Lord Robert was very unwell before he departed.  He had a fever and wished to retire to the countryside to recover before the ceremony.  He says you are to wait for him here.”

       “But if
he’s ill I must join him.  It’s a wife’s duty to be beside her husband at such times.”

       Blount and Verney exchange a knowing look.  “He said you were to stay here.”  Verney then says maliciously, “I am sure Lord Robert will find other solace and comfort at
Kew to assist his recovery.”  Blount stifles a laugh.

       “Was there no note, no letter from my Lord?”  Amy is pathetic in her unwillingness to accept the situation for what we all know it to be.

       The answer is simple.  “No.  He left no note.”

A New Amy

To my surprise Robert does return to
Christchurch – clearly Elizabeth has let him off the leash for a time.  But it can’t last as he has to arrange the Queen’s first summer progress when he’ll be expected to accompany her, hunt with her and dine with her at all times.  He makes frequent journeys to court but only once taking Amy with him when he was sure that she and Elizabeth wouldn’t meet.  When he returns to Christchurch he stays up late into the night, drinking and gambling with his henchmen.

       Amy loved her visit to court and came
back with tales of how she met this person and that person.

       “I met
Mr Cecil today, Kat.  I haven’t seen him since Robert and I married at Sheen.  My, he’s grown so important now but he was very kindly towards me.  And so was the Spanish ambassador.  He said that he was sorry to hear that I hadn’t been well but was pleased to see that I’m now much recovered.  I told him that I was being very careful to eat only foods that agree with me and he smiled and kissed my hand and said that I was very sensible.  He’s so charming.  He said Lord Robert was lucky to have such a beautiful wife.”

       Unfortunately Amy’s run of good health seems to break after only two weeks at
Christchurch and she’s once again wracked with pains and vomiting.  Worse still Robert, one night, comes home from court dressed completely in black.

       “Robe
rt,” gasps Amy, weakly, “What’s happened?  Has someone died?  Oh dear I hope it’s not someone I know.”

       Robert turns on his heel, as if surprised to find her awake and alert, and walks out, slamming the door behind him. 
Alarm bells sound in my head.  It’s time to act and act quickly but what to say to Amy?  It’s best to be straightforward.

       “
My dear Amy,” I venture, “It’s obvious that someone somewhere wishes you ill and out of the way.  No, you mustn’t look at me like that!  Robert was dressed in black because he was expecting to find you much worse than you are.  Or – he was dressed so because he’s been told to frighten you into feeling that you’re dying.  And we both know who would be behind such a mean trick …. the same person who gives him his orders. Your symptoms are exactly the same as they were at Throcking Manor.  So I’ll prepare your food as I’ve done before and I’m sure you’ll recover.  Meanwhile you must ask Lord Robert if we can spend the time when he is away on the royal progress at your cousin Scott’s house in Camberwell.  He can hardly say no without being implicated in a plot against you and you’ll be safe there.”

       Amy’s face is a picture of misery.  “I think the same, Kat.  From now on I must think about my
own preservation and I’m coming to the conclusion that Robert no longer loves me.  They’re hunting me down, Kat – Robert’s men – I’m sure of it and I’m now certain that, if he knows about it – which he must - he doesn’t care.  You’re right.  I’ll be safe at John’s house.”

       Lord Robert doesn’
t express any emotion in his dark, fathomless, black eyes when Amy asks him if she can go to her cousin’s house to recover.  I’m struck by the fact that his eyes are so much like Elizabeth’s; the Queen is shortsighted and peers through expressionless black orbs in order to see well.  Now Robert stares at Amy with an inscrutable gaze and it’s hard to judge what’s going on in his mind.  But his attention is focused on the forthcoming progress anyway so he accedes to Amy’s wish. 

      
Under my care Amy starts to grow strong again and, as Robert and the Queen relish the prospect of a long summer progress in each other’s company, we make our way quietly to John Scott’s peaceful home south of the river. 

     
Amy’s been very quiet and deep in thought during the short journey.  Now she confides in me.  “From now on, Kat, I will place no demands on my Lord.  I will not cause trouble and there’ll be no more arguments over Elizabeth.  Instead I’m going to make certain that Robert keeps me in luxury.  I’ll order whatever fine gowns I wish and he will pay for them and in return he can have his friendship with the Queen, much good may it do him.  I’ll have a comfortable life and he can have his Elizabeth.  I pity him.  She’ll soon tire of him and spit him out when some handsome foreign prince courts her.  The Spanish ambassador told me she has many royal suitors all across the world.  What has Robert got that foreign princes could not give her twenty times over and more besides?  And what’s more they don’t have wives waiting for them at home.  She’ll never be truly his because he’s married to me.  Robert already has a wife.”

       A
nd that’s precisely what troubles me and makes me feel uneasy for my friend.

Eavesdroppers

We spend three
whole weeks with Amy’s cousin, John Scott, and his family.  The house and gardens are delightful at this time of year with scents of lavender, thyme and rosemary drifting across the warm still air of the summer evenings.  Amy’s well again and once more enjoying the admiring company of the young members of the family.  Young Thomas, who was a small boy when we last saw him, is now a young man of thirteen.

       “Tell me about the court, Lady Amy, if you please.  Does everyone there walk around in cloth of gold?  Do they ride white horses when they go out to hunt and can they eat marzipan whenever they please?”  Thomas is particularly fond of marzipan!

       “Well, Thomas, the people there wear ordinary clothes just as we do but the palaces are very cold so they wear furs quite a lot and their skirts and cloaks have fur linings but only the Queen is allowed to wear ermine.  And as for the food – they drink a lot of wine and eat a lot of meat, as much as they please, and have marzipan made into the shapes of flowers and animals or even toy palaces made entirely of marzipan.”

       Thomas’ eyes go wide.  “And the horses!  What about the horses?”

       “Oh yes, I was forgetting that, Thomas; they have the most beautiful horses because my husband and your cousin, Lord Robert, chooses them himself for the Queen to ride.”

       “What does she look like, Amy,” says Thomas, forgetting his manners.

       At this point Amy goes red and changes the subject for which I’m quite relieved.  I’d wondered what her description of Elizabeth would be!

       One evening, while we are taking in the night air in
the silent gardens sitting lost in thought on a bench which encircles a great tree, we hear the latch on the house door clatter shut.  There are men’s voices coming in our direction.  Whoever it is has obviously stopped behind the tree and cannot see us.

       “She di
d.  She did it.  She kept that popish whore Dormer, Feria’s wife, standing for most of the afternoon.”

       “What the Spanish Ambassador’s wife – Jane Dormer?”

       “Well – he’s not ambassador now; De la Quadra is.  Feria’s gone home to Spain and his English whore’s following him.  Our Elizabeth didn’t want popish ladies-in-waiting about her.”

      I recognise the lewd voice of
Sir Richard Verney and the fawning tones of Thomas Blount.  Amy looks at me with a horrified expression.  What are they doing here? 

       “But Feria’s wife’
s expecting their first child,” says Blount.

       “Yes, you s
hould have seen the size of her!  She was as big as a Spanish galleon.  The Spaniards were outraged and offered Dormer a chair but she refused.  She didn’t want to offend the Queen by sitting down so she stood and waited and waited and waited …..”

       There’
s the hideous sound of Verney’s loud guffawing.

       “So what happened?” inquires Blount.

       “Oh someone, probably Cecil, warned the Queen that she’d cause a diplomatic incident if the Count de Feria’s wife collapsed and lost the child; so she relented and invited Dormer in for her farewell audience.”

       “Was there a quarrel?”

       “No – apparently they were both very lady-like and well behaved.  They laughed and joked and wished each other well!”  Verney sneers the words.

     
“And My Lord Robert … was he there?” says Blount curiously.

      “No
, but when I told him he threw his head back and roared with laughter.  ‘That’s my Elizabeth,’  he said, ‘She knows how to play them.  What a clever woman she is.’  And he strode off to find his lady love to congratulate her.”

       Amy’
s as still as one of those marble statues they have in Italy and just as white.  We continue to sit motionless and unseen in the gathering darkness.