A Woman of Passion
As she lay quietly beside him, her heart overflowed with compassion. She didn't believe that their sex life was completely over, but she was wise enough to realize that this episode of failure and frustration would not be the last.
Bess was most happy the Court had moved from Greenwich back to Windsor before she returned, not only because their apartment at the castle was so spacious, but because her sons were close by at Eton. Queen Elizabeth's birthday was September 7, and Windsor was a hive of activity, preparing for the celebration.
A great masque was being planned. The Presence Chamber would be decorated to look like an underwater kingdom, and those invited would be costumed as Neptune , Poseidon, water sprites, and mermaids. The days leading up to Her Majesty's birthday were filled with frenzied activities.
There was a great hunt, then a medieval tournament with jousting. There was a large hawking party and daily contests with rich prizes at the archery butts. The courtiers were almost worn out before the big day arrived, yet at her birthday masque, Elizabeth danced until dawn.
Bess helped Elizabeth out of her crystal-encrusted gown and long green wig. The dressing room adjoining the queen's bedchamber was in chaos, with garments lying everywhere, but Elizabeth told Bess to leave it and attend to it later, after the queen had three or four hours of sleep. Bess withdrew to the anteroom, sank down in a soft chair, and put up her aching feet.
She didn't awaken until after nine o'clock and wondered why one of the other ladies-of-the-bedchamber hadn't come to relieve her. Mary and Lettice both must have slept late. Bess stood up and stretched. It would feel good to get out of her gown and climb into her own bed. She went through to the queen's bedchamber and drew back the heavy curtains on both windows.
“Good morning, Your Majesty; it has gone nine o'clock.”
“Good morning, Bess; that was the most glorious birthday celebration I've ever had!”
Bess held Elizabeth's bedgown, and the queen slipped her arms into the sleeves and wrapped it about her slender body. When Bess went into the dressing room, she was appalled at the disarray that met her eyes. She began to tidy up immediately and opened the huge wardrobe to put away some of the gowns. Bess was very efficient and methodical and had the dressing room tidy in short order.
Bess heard Robin Dudley's voice and paused in what she was doing, thinking she should withdraw so they could be private.
“Amy is dead!” Robin's deep voice seemed unnaturally loud.
“At last!” Elizabeth's voice sounded exultant.
“She was found with a broken neck at the bottom of the stairs.”
“What? You brainless, clumsy, stupid fool, Robin! By Christ's precious blood, you've ruined everything! Was this your idea of the perfect birthday gift for me? Amy was supposed to die in bed with the doctors hovering about her! How could you have committed this insanely stupid act?”
“Elizabeth, I didn't kill her!” Dudley's voice quivered with emotion.
Bess sank down upon a stool, her knees turned to water. She remained as still and silent as she could.
“You bloody fool, Robin. I don't cavil at murder, if it can be dressed up as something else, but this is beyond all disguise! The entire world will accuse you, but worse, it will point its accusing finger at me and condemn me !”
“Elizabeth, stop it. On my honor I had nothing to do with my wife's death. If it was not an accident, then it was suicide!”
“It was murder, you fool! If not by you, then by your worst enemy, to prevent you from marrying the queen.”
“Cecil! He's the only one with enough power, enough cunning and determination!”
“Cecil has been away for weeks negotiating a peace with Scotland. Take your bloody hands off me! It isn't what has happened that matters, it's what it appears to the whole world—and believe me when I tell you it appears that we have murdered your wife so that we can wed. If this crime can be proved against you, you will lose your head, you clumsy fool!”
“I wouldn't be the first lover you've abandoned to the block.”
Elizabeth gasped. “Lord Dudley, you will be taken to Kew under house arrest until there is an inquest into your wife's death.”
“I understand, madam,” he said coldly.
Bess heard him withdraw, and Elizabeth let out such a cry of anguish, Bess came to the door of the dressing room. Elizabeth stared at her in horror, as if she had forgotten her presence in the adjoining chamber.
“What in the name of hellfire are you staring at? You sly bitch, listening at keyholes! Don't you dare to look at me like that. You are nothing but a bloody hypocrite, Bess Hardwick. You and Cavendish poisoned his wife so he could wed you!”
Bess stiffened with outrage. “That is a lie, Your Majesty. I would not take my happiness at the cost of another woman's pain and suffering.”
“I would!” Elizabeth said defiantly. “I have! I had some damned good teachers.” The queen's amber eyes glittered dangerously. “If you open your mouth outside this chamber, I'll see that it's closed permanently.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Bess swept her a curtsy. “May I withdraw?”
“Yes, get out!”
When Bess reached the antechamber, the door opened and Cat Ashley entered. Elizabeth's cries and curses could be heard all over the apartments. “What has happened, Bess?”
“Something terrible, Cat. She experiences everything with the same deep passion I do. You had better let her scream and rage until she gets it all out.”
TWENTY-NINE
While Robin Dudley was banished from Court, the queen did not dance all night. She retired to her bedchamber at a decent hour, but in the antechamber Bess was still kept awake for hours as she listened to Elizabeth's sobbing. Though Bess had been offended and hurt at the angry words Elizabeth had hurled at her, she decided not to leave her Court appointment as lady-of-the-bedchamber. She fully understood this was a terrible time for the queen, and Bess refused to desert her.
In the New Year the inquest into the death of Amy Dudley returned an open verdict, which neither cleared nor condemned Robin Dudley. It was good enough for Elizabeth, however, who immediately welcomed him back to Court. Though she no longer sobbed the night away, Bess could see that Elizabeth was taut as a harp string, living on her nerves, pretending indifference that she was being laughed at all over the world for her scandalous behavior with her horse master.
Each day Bess saw her grow thinner and paler, until finally she gathered her courage and spoke to Elizabeth. “Your Majesty, I presume upon our long acquaintance. Your gaiety is forced, as worry over something eats away your soul.”
The Queen fixed Bess with a haughty glare. “Your presumption is pure arrogance, Lady St. Loe.” Then Elizabeth heaved a deep sigh. “I am at a crossroads. One path leads to my fulfillment as a woman—the other to my fulfillment as a queen. By Christ's precious blood, you have had three husbands; can I not have just one—is it too much to ask?”
“Your Majesty, I am fulfilling my destiny, as you must fulfill yours. You do not want or need my advice. Our choices in life are difficult, but as you know they are unavoidable.”
In the months that followed, Elizabeth honored Robin Dudley constantly, first with a pension, then a license to export pelts and furs. Following this she bestowed upon him the levies on all imported wines and silks, and it was rumored that an earldom was being considered.
Most courtiers surmised that the queen was about to throw caution to the wind, but Bess knew differently. Robin was receiving these favors from the queen as compensation for a marriage that would never take place. Elizabeth had chosen the path that would lead to her fulfillment as a great queen.
Bess's eldest daughter, Frances, turned thirteen, and Bess knew the time was ripe to arrange a good marriage for her. One of the most prominent men in Nottingham was Sir George Pierrepont, whose ancestors had lived at Holme Pierrepont for generations. Naturally, such a prominent family had enjoyed the hospitality of Chatsworth, and Bess had not missed the fact that
Sir George's heir, Henry, was only two or three years older than her daughter Francie. Not only was Sir George impressively wealthy, a shrewd Bess could see that his health was deteriorating from either gout or rheumatics, and it would not be long before young Harry inherited everything.
Bess discussed the matter with Syntlo, who promptly offered to furnish their beloved Francie with a sizable dowry. Not to be outdone by her generous husband, Bess decided she would give Francie one of her manors upon her daughter's marriage. Bess penned a letter to Sir George and Lady Pierrepont, opening negotiations, and decided that if the reply was favorable, she would visit them at Nottingham on her way to Chatsworth.
Bess had no sooner dispatched the letter than Lady Catherine Grey knocked on Lady St. Loe's door, asking to speak with her in private. When Bess saw the worried frown on Catherine's face, she bade her sit and dismissed the servants. “Catherine, poppet, whatever is amiss?”
“Oh, Bess, I am cursed with impulsiveness. I have done something that seemed so exciting and romantic at the time, but now I am afraid that I acted foolishly.”
“Oh, darling, your mother was often impulsive; we cannot help the traits we inherit.”
“You know that Teddy Seymour and I have known each other since we were children. I'm afraid I've been indiscreet with him.”
Bess laughed. “Well, I'm amazed you've kept your virginity this long. When you were no bigger than pissants, you couldn't keep your hands off each other!”
Catherine blushed profusely. “Bess, we were secretly married when the queen moved the Court to Greenwich.”
“By God's precious blood, Catherine, it's tantamount to treason to have wed without Elizabeth's permission! Oh, you foolish child, I could shake you till your teeth rattle!”
“But we are in love, Bess,” Catherine declared, as if this made it acceptable.
“Elizabeth is jealous of anyone who loves. Who was your witness at this secret marriage?”
“Edward's sister; it was before she died so suddenly.” Tears flooded Catherine's eyes.
“Tragic though that was, it is extremely fortunate for you that your witness cannot carry tales.”
“Dear heaven, don't you think the queen will forgive me?”
“Poppet, don't be so naive; she never forgives anyone anything, not where her crown is concerned.”
“Bess, whatever shall I do?”
“Destroy the legal document immediately. Get Edward to France and deny everything, as I shall certainly do if I am ever questioned about this reckless affair!”
Bess told no one of her conversation with Lady Catherine Grey, not even her husband. Though the time for her to leave for Chatsworth for the summer months was fast approaching, Bess was loath to leave St. Loe. He looked far from robust, and he had never regained his sexual ability. As a result they now slept in separate bedchambers.
Syntlo could not bear the humiliation, even though Bess would have preferred to share a bed for companionship and warm affection. She did thoroughly understand how sensitive Will was about his impotence, but in actual fact Bess had not felt sexually satisfied since Cavendish had died.
Bess now found herself torn between her children and Chatsworth and her duty to her aging husband. Whenever she criticized Elizabeth for working him too hard, however, Syntlo sprang to the queen's defense, and Bess realized Elizabeth Tudor could do no wrong in her husband's eyes.
Bess put off leaving until the end of July, when suddenly she learned something she did not want to know. Lady Catherine Grey came to her in secret late one night and burst into pitiful sobs. “Oh, Bess, whatever shall I do? I am with child!”
Bess stared in horror at Catherine's belly. The girl was corseted so tightly, it was a wonder she hadn't killed herself and the child she carried. “You knew you were pregnant when you confessed the marriage to me!” Bess accused.
“I refused to believe it. Edward is in France, and I have no one to turn to, Bess.”
Bess relented and put her arms about Catherine, wishing with all her heart that her dear friend Frances were still alive. “There, there, poppet, don't cry. Babies won't be ignored. Once you are impregnated, childbirth is inevitable, I'm afraid. You must throw yourself on the queen's mercy, confess all, and beg her forgiveness. It is your only hope, Catherine.”
“I cannot, I cannot,” she sobbed. “You must tell her for me.”
Bess vividly recalled Elizabeth's words about Catherine Grey marrying: I will hear no more from you on this subject! Do I make myself clear, Lady St. Loe?
“Dry your tears, darling. I'll do the next best thing. I'll ask Robin Dudley to beg Elizabeth to treat you with mercy, Catherine. The queen refuses him very little these days. I'm sure he will do me this favor.” Bess fervently hoped she was not giving her false hope. Once again Bess put off leaving for Chatsworth, feeling that she could not desert Catherine in her plight.
In a couple of days, Bess found an opportunity to speak in private with Dudley. “Robin, young Catherine Grey has done something that will anger the queen, and I will take it as a personal favor to me if you will approach Elizabeth and pour soothing oil on the turbulent waters it will stir up.”
“Bess, my dear, you know I would do anything for you.”
“Lady Catherine is almost seven months pregnant.”
Dudley laughed. “How ironic that Elizabeth appointed Catherine Grey because of her virtue.”
“Her virtue is not ruined—she is wed to the father.”
“She's secretly wed?” Robin was surprised; there were few secrets at Court to which he was not privy.
“She's married to young Edward Seymour,” Bess said quietly.
“What? She must be mad; the pair of them must be mad! You want me to tell Elizabeth that the heir presumptive to her throne is about to give birth to her own heir? And, even worse, that the father is royally connected to the late King Edward the Sixth's mother, Jane Seymour?”
“Dear God, to me they are just two youngsters in love. Now, I clearly see this strengthens her right to the succession and could be interpreted as deliberate treason, but, Robin, her entire family is dead—Catherine has no one to plead her case.”
“Aye, and her father and sister were executed for treason. Elizabeth won't be merely angry, she'll be incensed!”
Bess anxiously waited for news regarding the queen's reaction to Catherine's delicate situation, but she heard nothing until August 16, when she learned that Lady Catherine Grey was in the Tower of London. Bess immediately sought audience with the queen but was refused. Next she looked for Robin Dudley, but he seemed to be avoiding her.
Bess voiced her indignation to her husband, who, as captain of the queen's guard, had been responsible for arresting Catherine and escorting her to the Tower. “Elizabeth is being unfair. 'Tis too sharp a punishment for a girl who is seven months gone with child!”
“The young Earl of Hertford is being brought back from France. He'll likely bear the brunt of the queen's anger,” St. Loe soothed.
“Will, in my experience Elizabeth treats men far more leniently than she does females; there are very few women she likes.”
“She likes you, my dear.”
Bess hoped and prayed that St. Loe was right.
Four days later, on August 20—Bess's fateful day on which she had been evicted from Hardwick and married Cavendish—Sir William St. Loe's second-in-command knocked on the door of their Windsor apartment and handed his commanding officer a warrant. The queen was placing Lady Elizabeth St. Loe under arrest and ordering her to the Tower. St. Loe, visibly upset, began to wring his hands. He could hardly speak for the lump in his throat.
Bess herself was staggered. She resorted to anger, which had always served her well in times of trouble. “How dare she do this to me? She has had all my loyalty since she was twelve! We pledged our undying friendship to each other. The redheaded daughter of Satan cannot do this!”
“She is the queen, Bess; she can do anything.”
“She can bloody well
rot!”
“Bess, please stop. You must obey this warrant; you have no choice, my dearest. I swear to you it will be for a few days only, while you are questioned about what you know of Lady Catherine Grey's unlawful marriage. Pack some things, dearest. I shall send food and wine and whatever else you need every single day.”
“I need my freedom, Will. I don't think I can bear to be incarcerated.”
“You are a strong woman, Bess; you can bear anything you have to and bear it with grace and dignity.”
Lord God, how little you know me, Syntlo. I can bear anything, but not with bloody grace and dignity!
Bess decided to take her maid Cecily with her, and the guard waited patiently while she and Bess packed an overnight bag. She refused to allow her husband to accompany her, knowing how it would upset him, so Syntlo gave his second-in-command money to give to Edward Warner, the lieutenant of the Tower, in order to secure the best possible accommodation for Lady St. Loe.
Bess swept into the Tower of London wearing her best gown, refusing to be cowed by this ridiculous false arrest. But underneath her bravado she was secretly relieved that she had not been taken into the Tower through Traitor's Gate.
She was housed in the Bell Tower, the same one where Elizabeth had been imprisoned, though not in the same chamber. Through the small window she could see the Beauchamp Tower and what had become known as “Elizabeth's Walk,” where the young princess had been allowed on the tiles between the two towers. Bess suppressed her anger for three days, and when at the end of that time she had neither been questioned nor received any word from the Queen's Court, her anger erupted into fury. “Go back to Windsor, Cecily. I don't need you here, doing everything for me. If I don't at least tend to my own needs, make my own bed, and stoke my own fires, I shall run mad. You will visit me each day and fetch what I need. Today I want pen and paper, lots of it. None shall be spared my scathing letters!” It was extremely galling to Bess, adding insult to injury, that she was imprisoned in one tower while Hugh Draper, the man who had poisoned Syntlo and herself, was housed across the courtyard in the Salt Tower.