Виктория Холт - My Enemy the Queen

Was this the act of a sensible, reasonable woman? Hardly. And yet, beneath it all was the iron hand of the shrewd ruler, the woman who knew how to make the cleverest men of her realm bow down before her and give the best of their talents in her service.

Never to be close to the Court again would create an emptiness in my life; but as long as we lived there would be a tie between us —the Queen and myself. It might even be strengthened by hatred. I had at last proved my own importance to her. I had scored the greatest victory of our campaign when I had so enslaved Leicester that he was prepared to flout her in order to marry me. There could have been nothing more revealing in the relationship between the three of us than that. And she would be fully aware of it. I had proved without question that I was by no means the insignificant third in our triangle.

Mary left for Penshurst, and soon after she had gone Robert received a summons from the Queen. He was to present himself.

Full of foreboding, he departed and in due course came back to Wanstead with mixed emotions.

She had belabored him, called him traitor and ungrateful man; she had enumerated all she had done for him, reminding him that she had raised him up and could as easily cast him down.

He had protested that she had made it clear over many years that she had no intention of marrying him and that he believed he had a right to family life and sons to follow him. He was ready to serve his Queen with his life, he had told her, but he had believed that he might enjoy the comforts of family life without impairing his service to his Queen and country.

She had listened grimly and then she had told him to beware. "I'll tell you this, Robert Dudley," she had shouted, "you have married a she-wolf and you will discover this to your cost."

So I became the She-Wolf. It was a habit of hers to bestow nicknames on those about her. Robert had always been her Eyes, Burleigh her Spirit, and Hatton her Mutton. I could see that forever after I should be the She-Wolf—the picture of me in her mind being that of a wild animal, seeking victims to satisfy my violent passions.

"She seems determined to have Anjou," said Robert.

"I'll swear she won't."

"In her present mood she is capable of anything. She was shouting and swearing at me in a voice which could have been heard throughout the palace."

"Nevertheless," I said, "I doubt she will take Anjou."

Another crisis had arisen in my family. There had been a tacit understanding between Penelope and Philip Sidney that they would marry. Walter had dearly wished that this marriage should take place and he had mentioned it on his deathbed in Dublin.

Philip Sidney was an unusual man. He seemed almost ethereal and by no means eager for marriage and it might have been for this reason that the engagement drifted on.

I received a call from Francis Hastings, the Earl of Huntingdon, who had been appointed the guardian of my daughters.

Huntingdon was a man of great importance, largely because, on his mother's side, he was of royal descent, her ancestor being Edward's IV's brother, the Duke of Clarence; and because of this he had a claim to the throne and maintained he came before the Queen of Scots and Catharine Grey.

He was forceful and a strong Protestant, and there was a possibility that since Elizabeth seemed unlikely to provide the country with heirs, he could one day take the crown.

His wife, Catharine, was Robert's sister; they had been married at that time when Robert's father had been eagerly marrying his children into the most influential families in the land.

Now he came to see me and tell me that he considered it was time husbands were found for my daughters and he had an offer for Penelope. I pointed out that she had an understanding with Philip Sidney, but at this he shook his head.

"Leicester is out of favor and likely to remain so. An alliance with a member of the family is not the best for Penelope. Robert Rich has become enamored of her and offers for her."

"His father has just died, has he not?"

"Yes, and Robert has inherited the title and a very considerable estate. His name describes him well."

"I will test her feelings in the matter."

Huntingdon looked impatient. "My dear lady, this is a brilliant match. Your daughter should seize it gratefully."

"I doubt she will do that."

"She will, for she shall be made to. Let us be frank. She is your daughter and you do not stand high with the Queen. Whether Leicester will come back into favor we do not know, but the Queen has vowed she will never receive you. In these circumstances it would be well for your daughters to be safely married."

I saw the point of this and said I would broach the matter to Penelope.

Lord Huntingdon shrugged his shoulders impatiently, implying that consultation with the prospective bride was unnecessary. It was a good match, the best Penelope could hope for now that her mother was in disgrace, and it should be arranged without delay.

But I knew Penelope. She was no weak girl and would have decided views of her own.

When I told her of Lord Huntingdon's visit and its purpose she was stubborn.

"Lord Rich!" she cried. "I know of him and I do not want to marry him no matter what my Lord Huntingdon decrees. You know I am betrothed to Philip."

"You are of a marriageable age, and he has expressed no eagerness for it. Huntingdon points out that my disgrace will reflect on you and you should therefore be very ready to consider a good match while you can get one."

"I have considered it," said Penelope firmly. "I do not want to marry Robert Rich."

I did not pursue the matter, for I knew that would only increase her stubbornness. Perhaps when she grew accustomed to the idea it might not prove so repulsive to her.

There was great excitement throughout the country when the Duc d'Anjou came to Court. He arrived in a manner calculated to win the Queen's heart, for he came secretly to England accompanied by only two servants and presented himself at Greenwich, where he asked permission to throw himself at the Queen's feet.

Nothing could have delighted her more and her infatuation-assumed though it must have been—amazed everyone. There could have been few men as unattractive as this French Prince. He was very short—almost a dwarf—and when he was a child had suffered from a violent attack of smallpox which had left his skin badly scarred and discolored. The end of his nose had become enlarged and had split in two, which gave him a very odd appearance. In spite of this, being a Prince, a life of debauchery had been possible for him and he had indulged himself freely. He had refused to learn, so his education had been scanty; he was completely unprincipled and irreligious, ready to become a Protestant or a Catholic to fit the moment. What he did have was a certain charm of manner and an ability to flatter and insinuate his passion—and this appealed to the Queen. When he was seated low in a chair he resembled nothing so much as a frog, which the Queen was quick to notice, and with her passion for nicknames he soon became her Little Frog.

I was disappointed not to be at Court to see the farce of these two together—the little French Prince in his early twenties, repulsively ugly, playing the ardent lover, and the dignified Queen in her forties, languishing under his passionate gaze and utterances.

It must have been quite comic, but the implications were far from that, and there was not a man who had the interests of the Queen and the country at heart who was not dismayed. I reckoned that even Robert's greatest enemies felt it was a pity she had not married him and by this time given the country an heir.

Robert was obliged to attend Court, although he was in disfavor, and I sometimes wondered whether she put on this nauseating display to anger him. I heard that she had had an ornament made in the shape of a frog—it was of flawless diamonds—and she carried it with her everywhere.

For a few days the Duc rarely left her side and they walked in the gardens, laughing and chatting, holding hands and even embracing in public; and when the Prince returned to France it was with the certainty that the marriage would take place.

It was the beginning of October when she summoned her council to debate on her marriage and as Robert was still a member of that council he was present, so I had an account of what took place.

"As she was not there," Robert told me, "I was able to discuss the matter with freedom, and as a purely political venture. It seemed she had gone so far with the Prince that it might be difficult to draw back, and for that reason the marriage might be necessary. We all knew the Queen's age and it seemed hardly likely that she could have an heir; and if by some chance she did, she would endanger her life by doing so. The Queen was old enough to be the Duc's mother, said Sir Ralph Sadler, and, of course, that was something with which we all had to agree. However, knowing her temper, we thought it advisable to suggest the project be dropped, but compromised by asking to be informed of her pleasure and assuring her that we would endeavor to make ourselves conformable to it."