The Redheaded Princess: A Novel (10 page)

The French Duke of Guise wanted me to marry his brother. To appease the court I sat for a portrait and had it sent to the young man, only to hear no response. The Dukes of Ferrara and Florence also tendered their wish to become betrothed to me, but one was only eleven years old. All were Catholic. Then came the offer from the King of Denmark's eldest son. The council agreed to go into negotiations with this one. But I stayed silent, neither objecting nor expressing interest. I had no intention of marrying anybody and these offers always came to nothing.

Then a letter came from my sister, whom I seldom heard from anymore. "There is a disturbance going on with the council," she wrote. "John Dudley, the Earl of Warwick, is wrestling with the Lord Protector to take over power. If contacted by either, do not give your blessing to either one or get involved." I received a letter from the Lord Protector, asking me not to side with the Earl of Warwick, who was Robin's father. But I did not respond, and inwardly I thanked Mary for the warning. Writing my thanks to her would be too dangerous, and she would know that. So, the Dudley’s were back in court. And Robin's father was fighting for the place of Protector. I went about my business, losing myself in my beloved Hatfield and my own life. Mr. Parry was teaching me to go over my account books faithfully.

"You are living very economically," he praised me. "Your table is supplied by your estates. Your huntsmen and farmers are supplying all the partridge, veal, beef, and poultry, all the eggs, wheat, barley, and oats for your horses. And some messenger is always coming to the back gate with presents from the people.”

“I know." I smiled. "Yesterday someone delivered a plump swan. The kitchen people are roasting it today.”

“Your sister spends more than you," he advised. "You have the means, Elizabeth; you ought to indulge yourself a little. Do you need new clothes? How about entertainers? You are old enough now to put on entertainments and invite some of the local noblemen and their families."

It was 1551. On September seventh I would be eighteen. "I'll put on an entertainment for my birthday," I told him. "Cat Ashley and I will plan it." And so I did. I did not invite anyone from court, which included any of the Dudley brothers, but I did invite some of the local noblemen and their families who had been sending me gifts all along. I hired Master John Hey wood's Troupe of Child Performers, and for music, I engaged Farmor the lutist, More the harper, and Lord Russell's minstrels. And because I wanted to play the lute myself, at my party, I spent seventeen shillings replacing lute strings. The party was a success. Mr. Parry gave me power to take over the books and spend as I wished, and I began to feel more grown up. I gave Cat Ashley money for Holland cloth for new towels. I paid a carpenter to make a walnut table for my study in exactly the shape I wanted. I increased my alms for the poor. And I still rode out with my knights and hunted when the weather allowed. It was a most beautiful fall.

Often, as this morning in October, I thought of Robin when we were out riding. These were the same fields and woods where I'd once ridden with him, where I'd gone hawking with him and watched in admiration as his giant, gold-winged creature came out of the sky to place gentle talons on Robin's padded arm, and stand there preening, its eyes darting about, waiting for praise, a mouse or small rabbit dangling from its beak. Why was the thought of Robin always so much with me? Because I knew he was back at court? What role was he playing in this fight of his father's? I knew he adored his father, would do anything for him. Why didn't he write me since he was back at court? I shook the thoughts away and raised my face to the still-warm October sun and let it bathe me in its blessed peace.

"We should be quail hunting." Richard Vernon's voice brought me back to the present.

"Look, Princess." I looked. A whole bunch of quail were walking in the woods to the side of us.

"Yes, but I don't want to kill anything today," I told him. "Today I want everything to live and be happy." The Vernon brothers and Sir John Chertsey laughed, if somewhat uneasily. They, of course, knew of the beheading of Sir Tom, knew the effect it had had on me, and were likely under Cat's orders to help me mend and heal. About twenty minutes after that, we were all raised out of our lulling mood to see a rider coming down the dusty road to the left of us. The horse, a large bay, turned into the fields and started leaping over fences, frightening some sheep, as if its rider were a madman. My heart seemed to stop for a moment. I saw my knights' hands go to the hilts of their swords as the horse raced toward us. As the rider came close, I shielded the sun from my eyes with my hand so I could recognize him. But I could not. All I saw was the green-and-white colors of my brother's court. Not again! That was all I thought. But I took some comfort in the thought that he was alone and not accompanied by soldiers. He pulled up his horse, which was wild in the eye and did not want to stop. He held the prancing animal still while he swept off his feathered hat and bowed in the saddle. I heard a scraping noise as my knights unsheathed their swords.

"Identify yourself, sir," said Richard Vernon.

"Elizabeth," the rider said, looking down at me. Did I know those brown eyes? For a moment I thought I did. Then James Vernon pushed his horse between mine and the newcomer's.

"Princess Elizabeth," he corrected. "Never mind that," said Richard. "Who are you, sir? What business have you with the Princess?"

A familiar smile broke across the young man's face. "I'm sorry, but I never thought I would present a danger. I've known the Princess since I was three. Elizabeth, it's Robin. Robin Dudley. Don't you recognize me?" I was surprised and not surprised all at the same time. I had not recognized him at all at first. Then he took off his hat again and I remembered the brown curls. I could not help staring. He was Robin, my childhood friend, and he was not. He was a ghost of the childhood friend, grown fully, with the broad shoulders of a man and the courtly manners of one schooled by his powerful father and polished in court. His hands were those of a man. He wore a sword and dressed like a courtier, but his clothes were not frilled and fancy as Sir Tom's had been. His colors were solemn, serious, except for the white and green sash from Edward's court. His voice was grave and sure, as was his manner. We rode ahead, starting for Hatfield. My knights kept a discreet distance behind."

When did you get back to court," I asked, "and how?”

“We've been back for a while. My father is now the Duke of Northumberland and head of the council. Didn't you hear?”

“I heard. Why didn't you write to me?”

“I didn't want to get you involved.”

“What happened?" I asked.

"The Lord Protector has fallen. My father won."

"Oh.”

“The Lord Protector lost the affection of the people after he executed his brother. But there was plenty before that to lead to his downfall. The weakened power of the currency, the taking away of public lands to provide grazing for the sheep of the rich, rebellions brewing in the West Country and in East Anglia. All of this he ignored. The poor people resent the fact that he pulled down six acres of buildings on the Strand to make himself a new home. And then he fled with your brother, Edward, in tow to Windsor Castle.”

“Oh, poor Edward!”

“His dignity was put upon, but he was masterful all through it. My father could have mustered the army to overcome the Lord Protector, but instead he talked him into surrender. Elizabeth, it's the first bloodless transfer of power in England in decades. All the council is behind my father now: Cranmer, Southampton, Arundel, Paulet, and Cecil.”

“And so what now?”

“Lord Somerset, the former Protector, is in the Tower, where he belongs. My father, now Protector, is allowing your brother more freedom, more time to play at sports, and more spending money, and letting him have more say in matters of state. Edward is very happy. He puts his hands on his hips and imitates your father's walk. He shouts thunderous oaths.”

“Oh, I can't wait to see him.”

“And you shall. My father wants the King's sisters to come to court. I've come to invite you." He grinned and I saw my childhood friend.

I smiled back, sadly. "I've had many adventures of my own, Robin.”

“I know." He sobered. "Did you love him?”

“In a way I hope I shall never love a man again.”

“The rumors about him and you ... are they true?”

“Partially. But we were never really lovers."

He scowled and bit his lower lip. "I've something to tell you, Elizabeth. I want to tell you before you get to court, before anyone else tells you."

My bones seemed to freeze. "What?”

“I'm betrothed." I felt myself go hot and then cold.

"You are only seventeen.”

“My older brother was this age when he was wed."

"Who is she?”

“Her name is Amy. Amy Robsart. She is the daughter of a knight. I met her at court. We're in love." Love! I felt the world spinning around me. Never again will I let any man hold sway over me. My own words rose like bile in my throat. Because I loved Robin. I always had. But I had never thought about what would happen after we ceased being children.

"Elizabeth." He leaned toward me from his saddle. "I love you. I always will, and I will always protect you. But you are a royal Princess, far above me in rank. I have always known that. We can't wed. And if you become Queen, you'll be expected to marry a foreign prince and make an alliance for England. Anyway, no matter what happens, we will always be friends. And friends are more important than lovers, aren't they?"

He was begging me with those wonderful brown eyes to say yes. I nodded yes, to buy myself some time. Things were moving too fast for me. "You will be Queen someday," he said. "And I shall always serve you." Oh, Robin! But he was breaking my heart, all over again, not like Tom had done, slyly and without honesty. Robin's and my love had been nourished by many chaste years, by his respect and admiration for me and mine for him. It was a different kind of love, but love it was, there inside us both, smoldering with nothing to be done about it and nothing to be tried.

Cat Ashley nearly went daft. "Court! Then you must have new clothes!”

“And it is time to have them made by a tailor," I told her. "I have been thinking on it and hear nothing but good things about Mr. Warren."

So I was allowed to hire him and order what I wanted myself. I got new velvet cloaks, silk-lined bodices, a pair of black velvet sleeves, two French hoods and lengths of damask and blue velvet, crimson satin and silks, and linen cloth to have dresses made. I was measured for them. I bought new kirtles and yards upon yards of lace for ruffs around my neck, and soon the dresses and linens and cloaks were mine. I was past my demure stage, my humble stage of wearing nothing but white or gray. I was ready to appear in court as the King's sister.

***CHAPTER TWELVE

Right before Christmas I set out for Whitehall Palace with my own retinue of men and a hundred of the King's horses, as sent to me by Edward for escort. My arrival at the palace was elaborate, to say the least. All of the council came forward to greet me and usher me to Edward in the throne room seated under a canopy of cloth of gold-and-red velvet.

"Make way for the Princess Elizabeth, sister to the King." I made my bows, not without noticing that my sister, Mary, sat next to the throne. I hoped she did not think I was also bowing to her. A feast had been prepared. The King's drummers, fifers, and other musicians played. Mary was seated to the left of Edward and I to the right. The new Lord Protector sat at the other end of the glittering table with his sons, Ambrose and John, Robin's older brothers, and Robin's younger, Henry and Guilford. Robin was there with his new wife, Amy, a buxom, blond-haired girl with a cow's placid eyes. She was not at all animated. She seldom spoke. I watched her, trying not to be envious when my Robin leaned toward her or touched her face or smoothed a bit of hair back from it. What did he see in all that blandness? All the while Mary was watching me with her shortsighted gaze. She had aged, I decided. There were some gray strands in her mousy brown hair, and when she smiled I saw that her teeth were crooked. Her complexion was splotched too, but none of this seemed to bother her. After supper she came toward me with velvet-wrapped packages in her hands.

"I have some gifts for you, Elizabeth." As she leaned over to sit down I whispered my thanks for the letter of warning she had sent me about not getting involved in the council fight. She sniffed. "I think the new Protector is the most evil of men. Worse than Lord Somerset was. He wrote asking me to back a move he wanted to make to support the old Lord Protector's impeachment before Parliament. I wouldn't even reply. And, though he pretends otherwise, I am convinced that his religious policy is against all I believe in and portends disaster for me. Here, open your presents.”

“Why are you giving me gifts now?" I asked innocently.

"Simple. I forgot your birthday." I opened the velvet packages. One present was a locket with a diamond clasp. Inside were likenesses of our father and her mother, Catherine of Aragon. I blushed. What could I say? Our father had put aside that Catherine to wed my mother. Another gift was a brooch that I could wear pinned to my collar. It depicted Pyramus and Thisbe, lovers, sketched in amethyst. Then came the sable wrap, which she opened herself and drew out to place around my shoulders.

I thanked her politely, embarrassed. "I've brought you nothing," I said.

"I need no birthday presents. I'd just as soon forget the day. Don't you forget, I'm already thirty-four and still unmarried.”

“But not without proposals," I said. "I've heard of them.”

“Who? Young Edward Courtenay? He's only twenty-four and been in the Tower for most of his life, being the last of the House of Plantagenet. The poor man doesn't know how to shoot a long bow or ride a horse for his imprisonment. Of course, he is Catholic," she mused. "And if I were Queen I would release him; then, mayhap ..." Her voice trailed off. If I were Queen. So she thought of it too. Thought of what she would do, the people she would favor, those she would punish.