Виктория Холт - My Enemy the Queen

"He is my husband," I said.

"Oh God in heaven!" cried my father, and he was praying aloud, for he was not a man to use oaths. "Do not let this be true."

I said patiently: "It is true. Robert and I are married. What's wrong with that? You were glad enough to marry me to Walter Devereux. Robert Dudley is a far greater man than Walter could ever be."

"He is a far more ambitious man."

"What's wrong with ambition?"

"Stop wrangling," said my father sternly. "I want to know what this is all about."

"I am not a child, Father," I reminded him.

"You are my daughter. Let me know the worst."

"There is no worst. It is all the best of news. Robert and I love each other and because of this we are married and shall soon have a child."

"Yet you must hide yourself, hide your marriage. Lettice, have you no wisdom! His first wife died mysteriously. He has always hoped to marry the Queen. I have heard disturbing stories about Lady Sheffield."

"They are untrue."

"She was first his mistress and then his wife, some say."

"She was never his wife. That is a story circulated because she had a child by him."

"And you find this acceptable?"

"I would accept a great deal if Robert went with it."

"And now you have put yourself in a similar position to that of Lady Sheffield."

"Indeed I have not. I am married to Robert."

"So she thought. My child—for so you seem since you can be so easily deluded—it is clear that he went through a form of marriage with Lady Sheffield—a mock ceremony. Then when he wanted to, he could discard her. Don't you see he has put you in a similar position?"

"That's untrue!" I cried, but it was hard to prevent my voice trembling. It had been a secret ceremony, and Douglass Sheffield must have been deceived because she was clearly a woman who could not easily lie.

"I am going to see Leicester," said my father firmly. "I am going to find out exactly what this is all about, and I am going to see the ceremony performed before my eyes, and with witnesses. If you are to be Robert Dudley's wife, you must be so surely so that he cannot discard you when he wishes to turn his attention to someone else."

My father left me then and I wondered what the outcome would be.

I was soon to discover.

My father came to Durham House and with him were Robert's brother, the Earl of Warwick, and a close friend, the Earl of Pembroke.

"Prepare yourself to leave at once," said my father. "We are going to Wanstead. There you are to be married to the Earl of Leicester."

"Has Robert agreed to this second ceremony?" I asked.

"He is eager for it. He has convinced me that he is devoted to you and has no wish but that your union shall be legal."

By this time I was heavily pregnant but delighted to make the journey.

When we reached Wanstead, Robert was waiting there with Lord North, who had always been one of his greatest friends.

He embraced me and told me that my father was determined on this ceremony and he himself was nothing loath. He would not have any doubt his great desire to marry me and live with me as my husband.

The next morning we were joined by my brother, Richard, and one of Robert's chaplains, a Mr. Tindall, who was to perform the ceremony; and there in the gallery at Wanstead, my father gave me away to the Earl of Leicester, and the ceremony was conducted in such a manner and with such witnesses that it could never be denied that it had taken place.

My father said: "My daughter will soon give birth to your child. Then there will have to be an acknowledgment of the marriage in order to preserve her good name."

"You may safely leave that to me," Robert assured him, but my father was not so easily set aside.

"It must be known that she is truly married and the Countess of Leicester."

"My dear Sir Francis," replied my husband, "can you imagine what the Queen's wrath will be like when she knows I have married without her consent?"

"Then why did you not ask her consent?"

"Because it would never have been given. I must have time to break it to her ... to choose my moment. If she were to announce her betrothal to the French Prince, then I should be justified in telling her I have a wife."

"Oh, Father," I said impatiently, "you must see the point of all this. Do you want us to be thrown into the Tower. As for you, what would your position be when it was known that you had ac­tually attended the ceremony. You know full well her temper."

"I know it full well, as you say," replied my father, and Warwick joined with his brother and said that of course they must be discreet and leave it to Robert to make the decision because of his intimate knowledge of the Queen's moods.

So it was agreed and, that night, Robert and I were together in the Queen's chamber and I could not stop thinking of Elizabeth sleeping there, believing that the chamber was kept solely in readiness for her visits; and there was I, in this superb bed with my husband with whom I was madly in love and he with me, and I pictured what her fury would be like if she could see us now.

This was indeed the supreme victory.

I think Robert derived a great deal of satisfaction from it too, for, in spite of his pleasure in me, he must have been smarting from those insulting words of hers. He could not have had a greater revenge.

How deeply involved we three were together. Even on our wedding night, it seemed that she was there with us.

But whatever the outcome, the fact remained that, without doubt, I was Robert's wife.

The next day there was disconcerting news. A messenger arrived from the Queen. She had heard that the Earl of Leicester was at his estate of Wanstead and she had decided that she would stay there for two nights on the last stages of her journey to Greenwich. As her Eyes had been so sad because last time she had visited Wanstead he had been at Buxton taking the baths, she was shortening her journey that she might spend two days in his company.

It was almost as though she knew. The thought occurred to us both that she did and that she had arranged this because of it. Robert was greatly disturbed, for, as he had pointed out to me, when the explanation came he must be the one to give it and he must choose the moment. It would never do for her to discover through someone else. It was most disconcerting that this should come on the day after our wedding, but at least there was a warning; and on consideration it seemed to us that if she had in fact known what had happened, she would never have given us the warning which enabled us to have time to cover up.

"We must act quickly," said Robert, and the others agreed with him. I should leave immediately and go back with my father to Durham House. Robert, with Warwick and North, should stay at Wanstead and prepare for the coming of the Queen.

I had to agree. My triumph in the Queen's bed was over.

Reluctantly and somewhat deflated I left Wanstead and went back to wait as patiently as I could for Robert to come to me.

I suppose the journeys to and fro and all the excitement proved too much for me in my condition; and perhaps because I had brought about the loss of a child before, life was punishing me. In any case I gave birth to a stillborn child and in as much secrecy as we could manage.

It was some little time before Robert could come to me, for the Queen was so pleased with his company at Wanstead that she insisted on his returning to Greenwich with her. When he came I had recovered from the worst of my misadventure and he comforted me by saying we would have a son before long. The Queen had shown no suspicion, so we had been unduly alarmed.

He was confident that when the time came he would be able to break the news to her gently and with the least disaster to ourselves. For the time being I could plead illness; and the fact that she was chattering continually about the proposed French marriage would make it all so much easier.

We were together for a while at Durham House, but I did wish that we could declare our marriage openly.

"All in due course," soothed Robert. He was so ebullient. After all, he had come through a great number of upsets with the Queen and survived. I was not so sure of myself. I remembered that I had once before been exiled from the Court for a very long time.

Still, life was exciting. I was Robert's wife—firmly married to him in a ceremony witnessed by my father; and my nature did revel in playing this dangerous game with the Queen.

There followed months of subterfuge. I returned to Court, and whenever we could be, Robert and I were together. The Queen kept him a great deal with her, and I had to witness my husband making verbal love to my rival, which I have to confess caused me no small jealousy.

I knew of course that Elizabeth would never take a real lover and that in this respect she lived in a world of make-believe which had no substance in reality; and Robert tried to make up for my irritation with all this. We would exchange glances daringly in the Queen's presence; I would suddenly feel the pressure of his body against mine and the spark of desire would flare up between us even in the Presence Chamber. I warned him: "You will betray us one day." And I would be pleased that he risked so much. He shrugged his shoulders and pretended not to care, but I knew all the time that he was very eager to keep our secret in spite of the risks he took.