The Virgin's Lover by Philippa Gregory

Author:Philippa Gregory
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Elizabeth, Leicester, Biographical, Robert Dudley, 1533-1603, Fiction, Great Britain, Historical, 1532?-1588, General
ISBN: 9780007147311
Publisher: Harper
Published: 2004-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Sir Robert was leaning down to whisper to the seated queen, when Cecil walked into the presence chamber, and saw the queen laugh up at him. The desire between the two of them was so powerful that for a moment Cecil thought he could almost see it, then he shook his head against such nonsense and went forward to make his bow.

“Oh, no bad news, Cecil, please!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

He tried to smile. “Not one word. But can I walk with you for a moment?”

She rose from her seat. “Don’t go,” she said quietly to Robert.

“I might go to the stables,” he said.

Her hand flew out and touched his sleeve. “Wait for me, I’ll only be a moment.”

“I might,” he said teasingly.

“You wait, or I’ll behead you,” she whispered.

“I’d certainly lie down for you and tell you when I was ready.”

At her ripple of shocked laughter, the court looked around and saw Cecil, once her greatest friend and only advisor, waiting patiently, while she tore herself away from Sir Robert, her cheeks flushed.

Cecil offered his arm.

“What is it?” she asked, not very agreeably.

He waited until they had walked from the presence chamber into the long room of the gallery. Members of the court lingered here too, and some came strolling out of the presence chamber to watch Cecil and the queen, to wait their turn to catch her attention now that someone, at last, had separated her from Dudley.

“I hear from Paris that the French are to send reinforcements to Scotland to assist the queen regent.”

“Well, we knew that they would,” she said indifferently. “But some people think that the Scots will not man the siege for very long anyway. They never carry more than a fortnight’s supplies; they will just give up and go home.”

So says Sir Robert, does he? Cecil said quietly to himself. “We had better pray that they do not,” he said with some asperity. “For those Scots lords are our first line of defense against the French. And the news I have is that the French are sending men to Scotland.”

“How many?” she asked, determined not to be frightened.

“One thousand pikemen and one thousand arquebusiers. Two thousand men in all.”

He had wanted to shock her but he thought he had gone too far. She went quite white and he put his hand on the small of her back to steady her.

“Cecil, that is more than they need to defeat the Scots.”

“I know,” he said. “That is the first wave of an invading force.”

“They mean to come.” She spoke in little more than a frightened whisper. “They really mean to invade England.”

“I am certain that they do,” he said.

“What can we do?” She looked up at him, sure that he would have a plan.

“We must send Sir Ralph Sadler to Berwick at once to make an agreement with the Scots lords.”

“Sir Ralph?”

“Of course. He served your father faithfully in Scotland and he knows half the Scots lords by name. We must send him with a war chest. And he must inspect the border defenses and strengthen them to keep the French out of England.

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