Chapter 36 #3
“The verdict leaves no room for doubt,” Elizabeth announced at supper.
“My councillors agree with me.” Her relief was palpable.
“Lord Robert’s name has been cleared, and he is on his way back to Windsor.
The matter is now closed. As a mark of respect, the court will observe a month’s mourning for Lady Dudley. ”
Francis was less ebullient when Kate found him in his lodging that evening.
“The Queen may have drawn a line under this tragedy, but not everyone is so certain of Dudley’s innocence.
Some think that the evidence laid before the coroner was insufficient to exonerate him from guilt and that the truth remains to be exposed. ”
“Elizabeth seems very sure of his innocence.”
“That’s as may be, but I’ll wager that she will never marry him now. People will say she colluded in murder.”
“Do you think it was murder?” Kate asked, kneeling at his feet and meeting his eyes.
He shook his head. “If you mean, do I think that Lord Robert did away with her, no. He has many faults, but I do not think him capable of killing his wife. Yet there is something suspicious about her death.”
“I agree.” Kate fell silent, not sure if she wanted to share her suspicions, even with Francis. She didn’t want to think about them herself.
“So, what do you think?” he prompted gently.
“I have asked myself who has profited from the death of Lady Dudley, and it doesn’t appear that Lord Robert has. Rather the opposite, for I suspect that the last thing the Queen wanted to hear was that he was a free man. You know the great aversion she has to marriage.”
“Who has profited, then?”
“This is strictly between ourselves,” Kate said, leaning in closer and taking a deep breath.
“Think about our friend Cecil. He was restored to favor as soon as the news reached court. He wished to prevent a marriage between the Queen and Lord Robert; we both know he feared it would bring disaster on England. He could have foreseen that if Lady Dudley died in dubious circumstances, the finger of suspicion would point to her husband—as indeed it has. He also knew that Elizabeth would be unlikely to risk her popularity and her crown by marrying someone whose reputation was so tainted.”
Francis was frowning.
“You don’t credit my theory?” she pressed him.
“Well, I’m not done yet. I’ve been thinking this through for days.
Remember, Cecil saw Dudley in the ascendant when his own future appeared to be in ruins.
He feared not only for his position, but also for the future of England.
If the Queen had married Lord Robert, it could have cost her the throne.
He tried to warn her that she was plunging headlong into disaster, but she did not listen, and he was afraid that she would marry Dudley and wreck everything he, Cecil, had struggled to achieve.
Is it not conceivable that he decided upon a course that, although regrettable, would force her to stop and think? ”
Francis was nodding, his face grave.
Kate pressed on. “It is possible that, when he heard Lord Robert and the Queen giving out that Lady Dudley was very ill, he decided to act quickly.”
“But he is not a cruel man…”
“No, he is not! Yet he could have reasoned that, since she was dying of a painful disease, cutting short her sufferings could only be an act of mercy. It makes sense that, having laid his plans, he told de Quadra it was not true what Elizabeth and Dudley were saying, and that Lady Dudley was quite well. Then, knowing that his words would be reported, he confided that Dudley was plotting to kill her, thus planting the seeds of suspicion before the deed was done. It would have been easy for him to have it carried out. Given the poor woman’s perilous state of health, it would have been the work of a moment for a hired assassin to break her neck and then lay her body at the bottom of the stairs.
Cecil probably felt that her murder would have been more than justified by its consequences. ”
“I don’t know what to think.” Francis sighed.
“I will not believe ill of a good friend and colleague, and I doubt we will ever learn the truth. If you are right, which I hope you are not, Cecil is so clever and subtle that he will never give himself away. I agree, he had a compelling motive for doing away with Lady Dudley, and yes, he is the person who has profited most from her death. But being a patriotic man dedicated to the service of the State, he would likely have reasoned that it was his country and his Queen who were the chief beneficiaries.”
Kate said nothing. She felt sick, sensing that she had, in some way, let herself down in raising the subject, even with Francis, the only person in whom she could confide these horrible suspicions.
It was a terrible thing to accuse a good friend, a man of upright reputation, of murder.
She could hardly believe that they were having this conversation.
—
In the middle of October, the court came out of mourning and speculation mounted as to whether Elizabeth would now marry Lord Robert.
The rumors would not be stilled. It was said that she was secretly betrothed to Dudley and even that she was already expecting his child.
Time proved these rumors false, but the story of Amy Dudley’s death was continually embroidered and embellished.
It seemed to Kate that people were always ready to believe the worst.
“My Lord of Sussex is of the opinion that her Majesty should marry Lord Robert,” Francis told Kate one evening over supper.
“Like the rest of us, he is concerned about the succession and feels that any husband is better than no husband for her. I cannot subscribe to that view. I would hate to have to bow the knee to Dudley as king.”
Kate was weary of the subject. She thought all the speculation a waste of time because she did not believe that Elizabeth would marry at all, whatever she said in public. She just liked to keep her suitors dancing on strings she pulled herself.
One afternoon, as they sat around the hearth, Kat took it upon herself gently to remind Elizabeth that it was her duty to marry and provide for the succession. Kate held her breath, anticipating another explosion of rage. But Elizabeth remained calm.
“But Kat, think of the risks I would take in marrying. Unwed, I remain in control and keep the upper hand in any relationship; once married, the roles would be reversed, even though I am a queen. I would lose my independence and my autonomy, and that prospect fills me with horror.”
“Even if you married Lord Robert?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Especially if I marry Lord Robert, who is a subject born. And furthermore, if I do not marry him, it will prove those vile rumors false and distance me from the scandal of his wife’s death.”
But her words belied her actions. It was plain to everyone that nothing had changed between her and Dudley: far from being defeated by the rumors and gossip, he was as self-confident and proud as before.
He seemed to see nothing improper in his courtship of the Queen, which fueled much of the talk that they would marry, which flourished side by side with speculation that a foreign marriage for her Majesty was about to be announced.
Elizabeth reveled in being at the center of such intrigues.
A few evenings later, Kate and Francis dined with Cecil and his erudite wife, Mildred. His chambers were tastefully furnished but not showy, and the food was excellent.
Naturally, the conversation led to the ever-present issue of the Queen’s marriage.
“I grow more confident by the day that there is really little cause for concern,” Cecil declared, refilling their goblets.
“The Queen’s political judgment remains as acute as ever, and although she will not renounce Lord Robert’s company, I know for a fact that she will not marry him.
She told me so herself—she said she would not marry a subject.
I’ve ceased putting pressure on her to dissociate from him because it only makes her angry and more determined to favor and protect him. ”
“That’s true,” Kate said. “Kat’s husband recently made derogatory remarks about him, and the Queen lost her temper and banished him from court.
Kat was in a terrible state. She wept on Lord Robert’s shoulder and begged him to sue for her husband’s reinstatement.
To his credit, he agreed, and the Queen relented. ”
“I heard about that,” Cecil said.
Naturally, Kate thought. His spies were said to be everywhere.
Mildred laid her hand on her husband’s. “I am thankful that the Queen has not allowed her private feelings to undermine her good sense. She has clearly realized that if she abrogates her moral authority as queen, she will lose all respect and credibility, and possibly the throne itself.”
“She has acted with good sense,” Francis agreed.
Before November was out, the gossip was dying a natural death.
Lord Robert remained at the Queen’s side, consort in all but name, but Elizabeth was firmly in control.
She had his constant presence, his loyalty, and the stimulation of his company.
Kate believed that she had never wanted more than that.
—
At Christmas, Elizabeth granted Francis the lease of Syon House. It was now his to do as he pleased with.
“We shall refurbish it to banish the ghosts and install the children there,” he told Kate. “Syon is much closer to London than Greys Court, so we will be able to visit them easily. It can be our nursery house. And we will keep Greys Court as our chief residence.”
Kate could suddenly see past the ghosts.
She began to warm to Francis’s plan, even though a lot of her children had flown the nest, if only for the academic terms. William was at Oxford, Edward, Robert, and Richard at Magdalen College School, and Hal was keen to become a lawyer and, following in his father’s footsteps, enter Parliament.
Already he was looking for a suitable seat.
Frank, now seven, was soon to go to Eton.
Mary had returned to wait on the Duchess of Suffolk.
Lettice and Beth, of course, were still serving the Queen as maids-of-honor.
So it was only Anne, now five, Thomas, two, and baby Catherine, who came to live at Syon, although Kate was grateful to have any of her children closer to her.
Over the following months, she got away to see them whenever she could, which was not as often as she would have liked, but it was good to be able to spend more time with them, especially little Catherine, who was in her second year now and very engaging.
Kate had feared that she would not know her mother, but Catherine was an outgoing, loving little soul and came to her without hesitation.
She thanked God that the long months of separation had not severed the bond between them.