Виктория Холт - My Enemy the Queen

Robert was delighted. He genuinely deplored the French match, but at the same time he could not have borne it if she had married someone else after refusing him. It amused me to see how the personal element was always present in these two, who were, I supposed, the most important people in my life. I watched myself with the same dissecting calm, I hoped, and I usually found more than one motive behind my own actions.

Robert reported that the Queen had sent a message to Anjou to the effect that she was afraid of marriage because she believed that if she entered into that state she would not have long to live, and she was sure that her death was the last thing he wanted.

"The little man was confounded," said Robert. "I think he is at last realizing that it will be no different with him than with the others who have sought her. He broke into furious lamentations when he heard this and taking off the ring she gave him, threw it away. Then he forced his way into her presence and said that he saw she was determined to deceive him and had never meant to marry him, at which she showed great concern, sighing deeply, declaring that if only these matters could be left to the heart, how much more pleasant life would be. He replied that he would rather they both died if he could not have her, and she then accused him of threatening her, which made him burst into tears like the silly little man he is. He blubbered that he could not endure that the world should know she had jilted him."

"And what did she do then?"

"She merely gave him her handkerchief with which to wipe his eyes. Ah, it is clear, Lettice, that she has no intention of ever marrying him and never had. But she has let us in for a fine bit of trouble, for now we have to placate the French, which will not be an easy task."

How right he was. The ambassadors of the King of France had already arrived in England to congratulate the couple and make the final arrangements for the marriage. When the true state of affairs was realized, the French Ambassador threw the Council into a state of panic by declaring that since the Duc d'Anjou had been insulted by the English, the French would ally themselves with Spain and that would not be a very pleasant prospect for the English.

Robert told me that the ministers had conferred together and the general opinion was that the matter had gone too far for them to draw back now. The Queen received them and demanded to know whether they were telling her that she had no alternative but to marry the Duc.

She had played with fire and if they were not careful a few fingers were going to be severely burned. She said there must be a way out of the situation, and she would find it. The marriage terms were discussed and the French showed themselves eager to comply with her demands, and in desperation she suddenly made the announcement that there was one clause which was vital to her agreement, and that was that Calais should be returned to the English crown.

This was—and she knew it—outrageous. Calais—which her sister Mary had lost—had been the last stronghold possessed by the English, and in no circumstances would the French allow the English to get a foothold in France again. They must have realized at last that she was playing with them; and the situation then became fraught with danger.

She knew it better than anyone and she found an answer. The Spaniards were a menace. The little Duc was in one of his Protestant phases at the time and there would eventually have to be a confrontation with the Spaniards. The Queen firmly believed that such an encounter could more happily take place outside her realm; and as the Netherlands had sent out repeated calls for help, it might be a way out of a difficult situation to kill two birds with one stone by giving the Duc d'Anjou a sum of money to go to the Netherlands and conduct a campaign against the Spaniards there.

Nothing could be calculated to annoy Henri III of France and Philip of Spain more than that, and it would keep the little Prince's mind from matrimonial matters.

Languishing, as he said, with love for her, Anjou at length allowed himself to be persuaded to go to the Netherlands. Proudly she showed him her dockyard at Chatham, and the sight of so many fine ships impressed him greatly, but no doubt increased his desire to be her husband and master of them; and as she continued to show great affection for him he must have felt that this was still not an impossibility.

Robert came to me and told me what had happened. It deeply concerned him, he said, for she had told the Duc that as a mark of her great esteem, she was going to send with him, to escort him to Antwerp, a man whose presence at Court had always been more important to her than that of any other.

"You, Robert!" I cried.

He nodded.

I sensed the excitement in him, and I think my feelings for him began to change in that moment. He was back in favor; and I knew then that the ruling passion of his life—now as ever—was ambition. She, my royal rival, could give him what he craved. I was not a woman lightly to take second place.

He was glad to go to the Netherlands, even though it meant leaving me, because he saw opportunities there, and the fact that the Queen was sending him to be close to Anjou showed that she trusted him.

They were together again—my husband and his royal mistress. I might be the one his senses sought, but she was the one his head told him to follow, and even greater than his physical need was his ambition.

He did not notice that certain coldness in my manner. He went on excitedly: "You see what she has been doing? She has been holding off the French all this time and now she has succeeded in getting Anjou to fight her battles for her."

His eyes were shining. She was a great woman, a great Queen. Moreover, all the tenderness she had shown to her Little Frog was devious politics. There was only one man whom she had ever loved enough to make her temporarily forget expediency and that was Robert Dudley.

He was hers to command. She had forgiven him for his marriage and was going to keep him with her. The marriage was unimportant. She did not want to marry him, in any case. But she was going to take my husband from me whenever she could. He was going to be reinstated as her favorite man and his wife was going to be denied the Court. This was her revenge on me.

I felt the cold anger rise within me. No, I was not a woman to be set aside lightly.

Of course he was passionately loving and assured me that he was going to hate leaving me, but already in his thoughts he was in the Netherlands, seizing what advantages he could there.

It was February when he left England. The Queen accompanied the party as far as Canterbury. I could not go because my presence would be repulsive to her.

I heard, though, that she took a fond farewell of my Robert, and talked to him very sharply because she feared he might eat or drink more than was good for him and not take enough care of himself. He caused her great anxiety by his thoughtlessness, she was heard to say; and she would recall him and put him into dire disgrace if she heard reports of ill health caused through lack of care.

Oh yes, she was still in love with him; and although she announced that she would give a million pounds to have her Little Frog swimming in the Thames, it was Robert of whom she was thinking.

When Robert returned from the Netherlands, I was at Leicester House with Dorothy and my young son Robert. My elder son, Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, had by this time taken his Master's degree at Cambridge and had expressed a desire for a quiet life, so Lord Burleigh, his guardian, had thought it an excellent idea for him to retire to one of his properties at Llanfydd in Pembrokeshire, where he could live the life of a country squire and devote himself to his books. I saw him only infrequently at this point, which did not please me, for, of all my children, he was my favorite.

Leicester had aged perceptibly. There was much more gray in his hair and his ruddy looks had intensified. The Queen was right to chide him for overindulgence at table. He had completely lost that mild depression which had been there after the disclosure of our wedding when he had thought, briefly, that he was out of favor forever. Now he was bursting with confidence.

He came into the house where I was waiting to greet him and swept me into his arms declaring that I was more beautiful than ever. He made love with the urgent need of a man who has abstained from the practice for a long time; but I sensed an absent-mindedness, and I knew that my rival was Ambition.

I was faintly irritated that before coming to me he had been to the Queen. I knew this was necessary, but my jealousy made me irrational.

He could not stop talking of the future, which was going to be brilliant.

"She received me with great affection and berated me for staying away too long. She said she thought I had formed such an affection for the Low Countries that I had forgotten that of my birth and my gracious Queen."

"And perhaps," I put in, "your ever-patient wife."

"She did not mention you."

That made me laugh. "It was kind of her not to assault your ears with abuse of me."

"Oh, she'll get over that. I'll swear, Lettice, that in a few months' time she will be receiving you at Court."