Read Roses Have Thorns: A Novel of Elizabeth I Online

Authors: Sandra Byrd

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Christian, #Historical, #Fiction

Roses Have Thorns: A Novel of Elizabeth I (26 page)

BOOK: Roses Have Thorns: A Novel of Elizabeth I
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The day before I left court came word that Prince William of Orange, in the Netherlands, had been betrayed by one of his servants on behalf of the Spanish and had been foully murdered. The Netherlands were engaged in their own struggle to free their Protestant nation from the grip of the Spaniards, and Philip of Spain had put a large bounty on William’s head. The fact that
access had been gained by someone close to the prince filled me with foreboding for my own sovereign.

The murderer was meted out a terrible penalty: burned with a hot iron, flesh torn from his bones, quartered and disemboweled while still alive, and finally beheaded, proving that neither side heeded the Lord Jesus’ words: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

I returned to my home to rest, attend to my family, and bear my child.

The second day at Sheen, I slept late before rising to spend time with my children and prepare for the birth of my child. The midwife was already in attendance, so I hoped to have some time to consider candidates for governess. I had already dismissed my children’s current governess, who was not as well educated as I would have liked and tended to bend to my daughter Elizabeth’s will, which would not do.

I sat in the front room, by the fire, writing a list of potential governesses and making note to ask the current nurse if she might recommend another, as we would need several new servants in the children’s household with the addition of a new babe. I glanced up and saw, riding across the lawn and toward the stable, Thomas, with Sofia riding pillion behind him on the same horse, his bow tied behind them.

I had never seen anyone ride pillion with Thomas save myself.

I had not been able to hunt or ride with Thomas for some months due to my pregnancy, and though we’d enjoyed bow hunting in the past, we’d not had much time for that due to our court duties. I’d been surprised, actually, that he’d returned from the north so early in the week, but he said he’d wanted to be here for the babe’s birth.

The two of them walked toward our house, and when they arrived, Sofia glanced at me, quickly, through her lashes and then retired to her room to ready herself for her instructor, who would arrive presently.

Thomas came and kissed me on both cheeks then placed his hands on my stomach, and our child. “Are you well?” he asked.

I nodded. “The babe will be here soon.” I let a moment slip by. “I saw that you were hunting with Sofia this morning.”

“Yes,” he said. “She’d indicated she’d like to learn how, and I offered a first lesson as I was home this day. Is that all right?”

What could I answer? It was innocent enough, and she was given to my care. “You rode pillion?” I asked.

“Once we arrived at the park, she said her horse was not tame enough for her,” he said. “I left him tied up and sent a servant for him afterward.”

“Be that as it may,” I said, “I shouldn’t like to see that again.”

He shrugged, and I went to speak with my cousin. “I see you went hunting with Thomas this morning,” I said.

“Yes, it was very kind of him to take me,” she responded, never averting her gaze.

“It’s not appropriate for an unmarried woman to accompany a married man without escort,” I said.

“Oh, surely I am safe with your husband!” She neatly turned responsibility from herself to Thomas, though I supposed there was blame to divide. Her eyes were wide and her smile well drawn, and I felt like a foolish matron striking out in unearned jealousy, though my heart told me otherwise.

Three nights hence my pangs grew closer and I knew our child was about to be born. I was a practiced mother by this time, and until the very end I was able to think upon other matters. Near the
babe’s birth, I made a decision to set about, with purpose, finding a husband for Sofia. Once I’d decided upon that, I felt peace and calm until I was engulfed in the pain of pushing my child into the world.

She arrived in silence, and for a moment, I thought that perhaps she did not live. But she did. The midwife brought her to me and she looked at me with adoring eyes, and a silent smile. I named her Bridget after the truest friend I’d ever had, and Thomas agreed.

A month or so after Bridget was born, I engaged new nurses and a governess and then returned to court. Thomas was sent to Ireland on behalf of the crown; by now, preparing him to journey was a well-trod path. When he returned in November, I told him that we had been invited to Wilton, in Salisbury, the home of the Earl of Pembroke, just after the new year. The Wiltshire Nobility and gentry was holding a charity horse race; the home Thomas had purchased so long ago, Langford House, was just south of the city of Salisbury, eight miles from Wilton House. We were both fond of the Pembrokes; Henry Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, was the son of Anne Parr, William’s sister. His wife, Mary Sidney Herbert, countess of Pembroke, was a niece of Robert Dudley. She was also the sister of Philip Sidney, the poet Sofia had quoted to me.

“I shall look forward to that!” he said, and took my hand. Pembroke’s father-in-law, Sir Henry Sidney, was Lord President of Wales and an especially trustworthy friend to the queen. I thought perhaps Sofia would like to meet the poet himself, and the Pembrokes’ Welsh friends and relatives were certain to be visiting Wilton for the event.

I wrote ahead and accepted the invitation, and added a personal, private postscript to Mary Sidney Herbert, who was a friend as well as a niece of sorts.

•   •   •

We both rode and took litters to Wiltshire. It was a long day, but we’d left the children at home, of course, with their nurses and attendants. It was difficult to pry myself from Bridget each time I left as she still yearned for me. The others kissed me each time I arrived and left and dutifully shared their lessons and devotions with me, but there was only premeditated affection. I wondered if I were as a specter to them, in and out, mostly at night and other unusual times, someone they knew but who had no substance or presence to them. How very unlike my own mother, who had been close to us all the days of our young lives.

I spurred on my horse, proud of my horsemanship, and caught up with my husband, who rode in the lead. Our servants and Sofia rode behind us.

“I should like to visit Langford while we are here,” I said, and at that, his eyes twinkled, something I had not seen for some time. “And hear of your plans for it.” He smiled at me and put his gloved hands to his lips and then extended them toward me in a sort of kiss. I returned the measure and felt, for the first time in some while, a sense of affection between us.

When we arrived at Wilton, which I had never yet visited, I was stunned by its magnificence and beauty. I pulled my horse to a stop, and Thomas did likewise. “It’s stunning, isn’t it?” he asked.

I nodded. William’s properties had been large and well staffed and gardened, but this house dominated the entire landscape. “I believe William’s sister and her husband tore down the entire abbey and rebuilt the property from the ground up,” I said. At the mention
of my first husband, Thomas’s face crumpled a little. I began to be irritated; he knew I’d been married but for a short time and that my heart now belonged wholly to him.

Didn’t he?

Mary Herbert greeted us in her stately hall and found well-appointed chambers for each of us. “I shall speak with you later on the other matter,” she whispered into my ear. I nodded and gave her another quick embrace.

It was a mark of honor and respect that they had assigned individual chambers for Thomas and myself, but I could not help but be a bit disheartened by that. We saw each other but little and I had hoped this would provide a time for us to rekindle our passion for one another, our heartfelt intimacy, and not simply attend to the pressing matters of the day.

The musicians were skilled and the banquet of a hundred courses competed with those at court in their splendor. We were not often in Wiltshire, though it were but one long day’s journey from London, and it was pleasant to better know other neighboring gentry and noble families, most of whom I’d seen only in passing at court.

Sofia sat near the Welsh squire Mary Herbert had spoken to me of. “He’s a good man from a good family,” Mary had whispered, “but has a bit of spirit himself, so perhaps he is up to the task you’ve mentioned. His family, I believe, would welcome some interest. He’s a middle son, so he won’t inherit a title, but will have some wealth to speak of. And,” she added, “like any man, he shall have to prove himself.”

After dinner, Mary introduced me to the young man in question. “Aeron Upjohn, may I present Lady Northampton?”

He bowed and then met my gaze. “It’s a delight, my lady. I trust it was your cousin who kept me in such fine company at dinner this evening?”

I was about to jest that if it had been fine company, perhaps it had not been my cousin after all, but that was unfair; Sofia was a fine companion when she was in a mind to be. “Yes, yes, it was. And I hope you found her amusing.”

He smiled and winked. “I did. When I could keep her attention.”

At that, I smiled back. He was clearly able to survey the land and had the wit to understand what he’d be up against if things progressed. But I liked him well, thus far. I wondered if Sofia did.

That night, I stayed up chatting with Lady Mary by the fire, and when I returned to my chamber, I’d hoped to find Thomas there, as I’d invited him to stay with me. But he was not there, and after some time, I allowed myself to fall asleep rather than hope that he would soon appear; hoping pained me too much.

The second day we rode out to the race Pembroke had set up. Each of the gentry and nobility had sponsored a horse in the race and bets had been placed. The winnings, and a silver trophy worth £50, would be awarded by Pembroke to the mayor who would then distribute it to the local poor. Thomas and I bet heavily, though we did not usually gamble much, knowing that the proceeds would help the area. Afterward, we planned to ride to Langford, which was just south of Salisbury.

“Shall I ride with you?” Sofia had asked me.

I shook my head. “I heard that young Upjohn was organizing some tournaments inside at Wilton this afternoon with some other young people. I thought perhaps you’d like to attend.”

“Will there be nobility there?” she asked.

I held my face steady. “I am not sure; perhaps, if they are young as well.”

“Or their sons!” she added. She looked at me for a quick moment, her face so sincere. “Thank you, Helena, for allowing me to come to England to live with you. No one could have asked for a better cousin.”

I softened. Mayhap I had misjudged her; she was young, and far from home. “You’re welcome, Sofia.” I embraced her quickly. “Now, get on, and enjoy yourself.”

I changed into a riding suit that I had made after bearing Bridget. It was dark blue and I knew it suited my red hair, which was beginning to be threaded with a few silver ones as well. The white ruff made my fair skin appear even fairer, and I knew Thomas found that lovely.

We met at the stables, and Thomas was magnificently dressed, too. “New riding boots?” I asked. I had not seen them before, and they did not appear to be by the leatherworker he’d always used.

“Yes,” he said. His outfit was expensive, too. It was not proper for me to ask from where the money for this came, but it was unusually expensive for him. Perhaps because he was riding so much more often now, in service of Her Majesty? I looked at him, and the riding outfit, questioningly, but he did not answer my unspoken question, which made me even more ill at ease.

We rode side by side to Langford, and when we arrived, I endeavored to keep my face still. It was near the riverbank and the land approaching the property was beautiful, even in the bleak of winter, with ice shimmering like diamonds off the tips of barren branches. I could see that, in spring and summer, the land would be waving with grasses and flowers and humming with insects and
birds. But the property itself was officially a ruin, and there was no better way to describe it.

He stopped his horse, dismounted, and then took my hand in his and helped me dismount, too. Once I was on the ground, he did not let go of my hand but tugged me along to see his treasure.

“I know it’s not much, after Wilton,” he said. “But it has real potential. The land is beautiful, the stones are there, and we could make this something of our own. For us. Something to pass along to our children, a country home of our own.”

By “our own,” I knew he meant not something that the queen had appointed to us, and could then withdraw at whim, should she so desire. But also I knew my man and he meant something we planned and built together.

“I would love for this to be our home,” I said softly.

He turned toward me. “Truly? It is so far from court.”

“Truly, Thomas.” What I did not say was that I could not see where we could ever come into the money required to take this from heap to house. It was beyond imaginable. He knew what I’d been thinking, though.

“Cost,” he said. It would take more fortune than our rents together could provide to restore other than a small portion of the ruins, in addition to caring for and educating our children.

I nodded and shivered; it was freezing out and now that we weren’t riding I began to feel the cold bleed through my riding habit.

He nodded, too. “As long as I know that it’s your desire as well.”

I squeezed his hand to show him that yes, it was, then stood on my toes to offer a kiss. He kissed me back, warmly. Our shared breath brought steam to the air around us, and it gave me hope.

A month later, at Sheen, we entertained the Pembrokes, and
as young Upjohn had not yet returned to Wales, Mary Herbert brought him with her. Sofia was pretty and polite, but lukewarm, which I told myself was better than cold. The young man, however, was smitten.

“He seems more taken than she is,” I told Mary, who was younger, in actuality, than Sofia. However, she was already a mother to two and managed a large household and many estates.

“He’s a horseman,” she said with a grin. “He’d prefer someone with spirit to a tame mare.”

•   •   •

Shortly thereafter I met my husband in his chamber as he prepared for a trip. “Come with me,” Thomas said. “You shall see more of England, we will be together, and I should like your company.” Thomas was to leave London to travel to the courts round the realm on behalf of the queen, though he continued to take tariffs only from the Chancery.

BOOK: Roses Have Thorns: A Novel of Elizabeth I
4.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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