Виктория Холт - My Enemy the Queen

I was to join the Queen at Greenwich and as my barge carried me along the river I was overwhelmed by the excitement and bustle of London life and the fact that I was coming back to it. The river was, as ever, the busiest of the country's thoroughfares. Craft of all description was sailing along in the direction of the palace. The Lord Mayor's gilded barge was among them, escorted by the less glorious vessels of his officials. The watermen in their livery and silver badges rowed skillfully among the more cumbersome barges, whistling and singing, calling pleasantries to each other. In one was a girl who might have been a boatman's daughter; she was strumming at a lute and singing,

" 'Row thy boat, Norman' "—a song which had been sung for more than a hundred years—in a powerful but somehow raucous voice to the delight of the occupants of passing boats. It was a scene typical of London's river.

I felt in turns exultant and apprehensive. Whatever happened, I warned myself, I must not be banished again. I must guard my tongue—but not too much perhaps, for the Queen liked the occasional caustic remark. I would be watched with regard to her favorite men—people like Heneage, Hatton and the Earl of Oxford —and most of all the Earl of Leicester.

I was telling myself I must have changed in eight years, but I fancied it was not for the worse. I was more mature naturally. I had borne several children, but I knew that men found me more attractive than ever. One thing I was determined on. I should not allow myself to be picked up and dropped as I had been before. Of course, I kept reminding myself, he would only have behaved as he did because of the Queen. There was not another woman who could have displaced me for herself alone. Still, my feminine vanity had been wounded and in future—if there was a future with Robert—I would let him know that I had no intention of allowing it to happen again.

It was spring and the Queen had come to Greenwich, which she liked to do at this time of the year to enjoy the delightful situation there. Everything had been freshened for her arrival; and in the quarters of the ladies attendant on her I was greeted by Kate Carey, Lady Howard of Effingham; Anne, Lady Warwick; and Catharine, Countess of Huntingdon. Kate was my mother's sister and cousin to the Queen; Anne was the wife of Robert's brother Ambrose; and Catharine was Robert's sister.

Aunt Kate embraced me, told me I was looking in good health and that she was glad to see me back at Court.

"You have escaped so long," said Anne with a little grimace.

"She has been with her family and now has a goodly one to show for those years away from Court," said Aunt Kate.

"The Queen talked of you now and then," put in Catharine. "Did she not, Anne?"

"'Tis true that she did. She once said that as a young girl you were one of the prettiest she had ever had at her Court. She likes good-looking people about her."

"She liked me so well that she dispensed with me for eight years," I reminded them.

"She thought your husband had need of you and she did not wish to deprive him."

"So now she sends him to Ireland?"

"You should have gone with him, Lettice," said my aunt. "It's not good to let husbands rove too far away."

"Oh, Walter is welcome to his diversions."

Catharine laughed, but the other two looked grave.

"Lettice my dear," said Kate, very much the wise aunt, "do not let Her Majesty hear you talk like that. She dislikes flippancy regarding the married state."

"It is strange having such a respect for it that she is so reluctant to enter into it herself."

"There are matters beyond our knowledge," said my aunt primly. "She will see you tomorrow at supper when you will be one of the lady tasters. I doubt not that she will have a word with you during the meal. You know how she is ever ready to dispense with ceremony at the table."

I knew my aunt was warning me to take care. I had been banished from the Court for a number of years, which meant that I had without doubt offended the Queen in some way, for she was notoriously lenient with her relatives—particularly those on the Boleyn side. She would be a little sterner with the Tudor ones because she had to be watchful of them, but the Boleyns, having no claim in the throne, were grateful to her for raising them up, and she loved to honor them.

I could scarcely sleep that night, so excited was I to be back at Court. I knew that sooner or later I was going to come face to face with Robert. As soon as we met I should know whether I still attracted him, and then it would be my joy to discover how much and whether he was prepared to take further risks for me. On one thing I had made up my mind: No more quick embraces and then goodbye because the Queen would not tolerate his affection for another woman.

"It will have to be something better this time, Robert," I murmured to myself. "Always supposing that you still find me desirable ... and of course that I feel the same irresistible urge to take you as my lover."

Although it was a sleepless night, what joy it was to lie on my pallet and contemplate the future. How had I endured those barren years ... oh, but not quite barren. I had the children . my own adorable Robert. I could leave him without compunction, for he was well cared for, and boys, when they passed out of babyhood, became impatient of a fond and doting mother beside them. He would always be there, my beloved boy, and when he grew older he could count on his mother as his very good friend.

As it was Sunday there was a great attendance at the palace. The Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, the Chancellor, officers of the crown and other gentlemen had all come to pay their respects to the Queen. She would receive them in the Presence Chamber, which was hung with rich tapestry, and the floor would have been covered with fresh rushes.

People had assembled to watch the procession, which was really impressive. The Queen liked them to be given freedom to see all the pomp. Having come to her present high eminence by cautiously considering the will of the people, she was always especially eager to please them; when she rode among them she would speak even to the humblest; she wanted them to realize that although she was a glorious being, a divinity on earth, she loved the people and was in a way their servant. It was one of the secrets of her great popularity.

I watched the earls, Knights of the Garter and barons enter, and then came the Chancellor walking between two guards, one of whom carried the royal scepter and the other the sword of state in a red scabbard which was studded with fleurs-de-lis. The Queen followed immediately afterwards, but I could not stay to see her as I had to be at my duties.

The preparation of the table always amused me. No sacred rite could have been performed with more reverence. I and a young countess were the tasters on this morning, for it was a tradition that one taster must be unmarried and the other married—and both of high rank.

First a gentleman appeared holding a rod and behind him came a man carrying the tablecloth; following him came others with the saltcellar, platter and bread. I could scarcely repress a smile as they knelt before the empty table before placing these things on it.

Then it was our turn. We approached the table, I carrying the tasting knife. We both took bread and salt and rubbed it into the plates to make sure they were clean; and when we had finished these tasks the dishes were brought in. I took the knife and cut portions which I gave to several of the guards who had been standing looking on. They ate what I gave them. This ceremony was to safeguard the Queen from poison.

When they had finished eating, the trumpets were sounded, the two men with kettledrums came in and played their instruments to let it be known that the meal was ready.

The Queen would not sit in the main hall but would take her food in a small adjoining chamber. I presumed that she would summon me to her side while she was eating.

I was right. In due course she arrived. We took the food she wanted into a small chamber, and there she bade me welcome back to Court and told me that I might sit beside her.

I expressed myself overwhelmed by the honor and she looked at me searchingly. I longed to examine more closely what the years had done to her, but for that I must wait.

"Ha," she said. "The country does good to you, and so does childbearing. Two sons, I believe, I shall see them one day, I trust."

"Your Majesty has but to express the command," I replied, stating the obvious.

She nodded. "Much has happened since you were at Court. I miss my dear cousin, your mother, sadly."

"Your Majesty was always good to her. Often she told me so."

Was it really a tear I saw in the tawny eyes? It might be, for she was sentimental about those who she believed had been her true friends, and my mother had undoubtedly been one of them.