Queen of This Realm - Plaidy Jean. Страница 94

“I know. That is why I could not bear that you should spurn me.”

“You should have thought what my feelings would be before you took this disastrous step.”

“You would not have me. You had wounded me deeply with that simpering Frenchman.”

“You know why. You are a fool…a jealous fool.”

“I admit it.”

“I command you now to get well. You shall…in time… come back to Court.”

“My dearest Majesty…”

I felt my face harden. “You …” I said firmly. “You… alone. I never want to look again into the face of that she-wolf.”

So in a very short time there was reconciliation between us. I had accepted the fact that he was married; but I promised myself that Lettice Knollys should be denied the Court for as long as I ruled over it.

POLITICAL EVENTS WERE taking a serious turn. We could not afford to keep Anjou dangling indefinitely. The Treaty of Nerac had been signed, which meant that there was an end to the religious wars that had kept France busy for so long, and therefore the French were now free to take action elsewhere. We must be careful not to offend them. Our eyes were still on the Netherlands; moreover, the King of Portugal had died without issue and Spain was on the point of taking over its close neighbor, which would make it more powerful than ever.

“We must in no way alienate the French at this time,” said Burghley. “We cannot go on putting off the marriage. Your Majesty must make a decision and if you have no intention of marrying, it would be better to go no farther in this.”

“And incur the wrath of the Queen Mother and the whole of France as well as my little Anjou! Would that be wise?”

“Wiser than doing it later. So unless Your Majesty has decided that you will indeed marry, perhaps we should be considering how best to break off negotiations.”

“This matter may be left in my hands. Let us make ready to welcome the Duc d'Anjou.”

They were all convinced that I intended to marry my little French Prince. Simier was delighted with his success and word was sent at once to the Duc and the Queen Mother that I was all impatience to see my lover.

I was expecting the worst. The reports I had heard of him were not encouraging. I knew that he was disfigured by the smallpox for I had corresponded with his mother concerning remedial lotions. I knew that he was small and ugly. At Court they were asking themselves how I, who had always been so impressed by good looks, could tolerate such a creature.

When I saw him I was rather touched. It was true that he was one of the ugliest men I had ever seen. He was of exceptionally low stature and I admired tall men; his skin was hideously pockmarked—the elixirs, in spite of his mother's protestations, had been ineffective—and in addition to ruining his skin, the disease had worked its mischief on his nose so that it appeared to be split in the middle, and as it had from his birth been long, it hung down over his mouth. He reminded me of nothing so much as a little frog.

To compensate this he had the most beautiful manners I had ever known; he bowed gracefully and appeared to shrug aside his unprepossessing appearance as though he were unaware of it, and that made one forget it for long periods of time. His conversation was brilliant, for he was quite erudite, and to my astonishment I found myself enjoying his company. I was sure we looked incongruous together—he, so much smaller than I, looking up at me with that sophisticated adoration at which the French are so accomplished, and which made the compliments of my own men seem rather gauche.

So having been prepared for his ugliness I was not entirely displeased with my French Prince. I quickly christened him Little Frog, a term which amused him; and I had a brooch made in the shape of a frog. It glittered with diamonds and precious stones and I allowed him to pin it on me; and every time we met he would look for it and smile with satisfaction to see it prominently displayed.

My ministers were often in a state of exasperation. I dallied with the young Prince. I kept him at my side. I showed my pleasure in his company. Perhaps shrewd Burghley guessed that I was still smarting from Robert's behavior. However I prepared myself to enjoy the attentions of my little Frog Prince.

I never for one moment lost sight of the danger of the situation or that to offend the French could be disastrous for England. We had our spies in Spain and I was well aware what a deadly enemy Philip was. He had connived at plots to murder me; indeed he had given his full support to them. If he moved into the Netherlands, he would have no difficulty in bringing his armies across the Low Countries and from there it was an easy step to England. I had concentrated on the building of my Navy but I knew that it could not stand up against the might of Spain. Burghley had no need to point out to me that it was imperative that we did not affront France. If it were not for the fact that they hoped to see the Duc d'Anjou King of England, they might even attempt to land in Scotland, gather together disgruntled Catholics and march to free Mary of Scotland.

Dangers beset me on all sides and so much depended on how long I could go on playing the game of courtship with the Frog Prince, thereby holding the French at bay and giving the Spaniards qualms at the prospect of a strong alliance between France and England.

Even those ministers who respected my shrewdness and knew that I was as capable as anyone alive of playing a devious game, wondered how I could go on holding off my little Frog.

Fortunately this visit was to be a brief one of twelve days. Later he would come again, of course, and then there would be no excuse for delay—but I should have to find one.

My behavior with him—our tender gestures, our lovesick looks—those of mine no less than his—had convinced many people that there was going to be a marriage. Burghley, Bacon and such men in my close counsels knew that I was not going to marry, but the rest of the country believed I would. It was necessary that they should, for no indication must reach the French Court—and their spies in England were numerous—that my intentions were otherwise.

My subjects showed their great aversion to the match; and this was one of the rare occasions when I was angry with them. They seemed to think that I had been bemused by this ugly little Frenchman and that our union would be ridiculous since I was old enough to be his mother. As if I did not know that! They seemed to be of the opinion that I was a silly old woman who sought to be loved by a young man. And all the time I was pretending to consider marriage to save plunging them and my realm into war. Oh, I am not pretending that I did not relish the flattery, the extravagant manifestations of the great passion I inspired; I will not even say that I did not sometimes let myself believe in them. I had to, to play my part convincingly; and I did it for England. I never had intended to marry any man—not even Robert; and that decision stood firm. At the same time I dared not let our enemies guess that I was engaged in a piece of diplomacy.

I was, therefore, very angry when a pamphlet was brought to my notice. This had been written by a certain John Stubbs, a Protestant and puritan, a learned young man who had graduated from Cambridge. His intense fear and hatred of the Catholics was apparent, but I knew that he was expressing the views of others—perhaps more influential than himself—and the fact that I was being so misunderstood and could do nothing to correct the people's views of me infuriated me.

The title of the pamphlet was The Discoverie of a Gaping Gulf whereinto England is like to be swallowed by another French Marriage if the Lord forbid not the Banes by letting Her Majestie see the sin and punishment thereof.

There was nothing disloyal to me in the pamphlet; indeed Stubbs's character emerged as most loyal; he had merely allowed his hatred of Catholicism and the French to overcome his common sense. He saw in the proposed marriage the very foundations of our country being destroyed and to quote him “Our dear Queen Elizabeth led blindfold as a poor lamb to the slaughter.”