Chapter 22
December 1547
"Dearest Bessie,
By the time you read this, I will be making my way to Dublin port to come back to you for Christmas. I can scarcely wait! It'll be so good to be together again. The Tudor Howard Princesses, like we used to be. We'll dance in the masques this year, won't we? Like we always wanted to when Papa was alive.
And you and Edward! Oh please! You'll be the best dancers on the floor, I'll bet you anything! You have to dance this year! I've told Jessie and Nora so many stories and they're dying to see you in your role as Queen!
Don't worry, they're both well. In fact, they've quite charmed the Irish gentry. They've learnt the local language better than I have. If it wasn't for how young they were, I'd use them as my translators.
Anyway, I could go on forever, but since it's getting late and I'll see you in a couple of days anyway, I'll stop here. Love you forever, my Queen Elizabeth.
Blanche"
Scanning the lines of my sister's best calligraphy for what seemed like the thousandth time in the brief few days since they had reached me, I felt a thrill of joy go through me at the thought of seeing her again. Seven months was a long time to go without seeing your beloved sister.
But now there were just hours to go. Blanche, along with her retinue was joining us for the Christmas Season this very night. I was in a fever of excitement and could turn my hand to nothing because of it.
I had even tried music, which was my usual solace, but when the string on my lute broke, I could not be bothered to mend it, or even to call for a new lute. It was even worse waiting than I had anticipated, particularly since, being pregnant, I couldn't ride out to meet my sister on the road.
The only person able to calm me was Edward, my wonderful Edward. When Kat, scared I would endanger the child if I wasn't soothed at once, sent a page running for him, he came immediately.
His hand came up, dismissing my maids, as he caught me into his arms.
"Shh, Elizabeth. You need to relax. You can't risk making yourself sick. Think of the child."
"But…Blanche…"
"Will not get here any faster for you fretting for her. She's perfectly safe with Lord Ormonde." Seeing from my face that I wasn't convinced by his words, Edward offered to ride out himself to meet Blanche on the road with an armed escort, but I shook my head.
"Kat would never let you go. She thinks I need you here. And she's right. I do."
"Well, then, what would you have me do?"
"Tell me. Tell me of the England we're creating for our son. An England where love and justice rule above all things."
"Come here then." Edward settled himself in an armchair by the fire and held out his arms to me.
Sinking to the floor in front of him with a groan, I tipped my head back into his lap, having first removed my hood so that he could play with my coppery hair as he spoke, soothing me not just with his whispers, but also with his touch.
We sat like that until it was time for us both to prepare for the banquet in my sister's honour.
"Make way for Her Majesty and His Highness! Make way!"
The herald cried out, his voice shrill over the heads of the crowds, parting them for us like Moses did the Red Sea. Hand in hand, Edward and I swept the length of the Great Hall, bestowing a smile here; a nod there.
We seated ourselves at the High Table; Mary on Edward's other side, an empty seat beside me for Blanche, while other favoured courtiers, such as Anne and Edward's father, were arranged in other seats around the table.
At last, at long, long last, it was time. Safely ensconced, Edward and I glanced expectantly towards the door. The herald blew on his trumpet and announced "Her Royal Highness, the Princess Blanche, Lady of Ireland!" and there she was, gliding towards us, resplendently regal in cloth of silver trimmed with purple velvet. My beloved little sister.
"Your Majesty. Your Highness." Blanche curtsied to each of us in turn, formal as protocol required. However, I could tell by the way that she was quivering that she was desperate to fling herself into my arms, so I wasted no time in waving a hand to raise her from her curtsy and coming round the table to clasp her close.
"It's good to see you, Blanche. You look well, sweetheart."
"As do you, Bessie. Both of you."
Blanche couldn't help the way her eyes widened at my bulging stomach and I laughed.
"Come and sit down and tell me all about Ireland. Where are the twins? I thought they'd be with you."
"No, they're with Lady Stafford. They were exhausted after the journey." Blanche explained, leaning to kiss Edward on the cheek. It was such a mature gesture that I had to check myself. Blanche had definitely grown up in the last few months. She wasn't the little girl who had left Bristol seven months earlier. She was much more a young woman than I remembered.
To my relief, however, some things still hadn't changed. For instance, she still enjoyed a party as much as she ever had. She laughed and clapped eagerly at the tumbler's antics and, when we had finished feasting and the dancing began, she still looked impatiently at me, begging me with her eyes to partner Edward in the first dance.
"I can't. It's not good for the child." Resting a palm on the swell of my belly, I shook my head.
Sensing Blanche's disappointment and keen to head it off before it really began, I suggested that she open the dancing by dancing with Edward in my place.
The sight of her sapphire eyes lighting up gave me the purest jolt of pleasure I had experienced in a long time. Knowing what I wanted from him, Edward called out for a galliard to be played, took my little sister's hand and led her out on to the floor. Settling back into my carved cushioned chair, I watched them together as they exchanged the customary formalities, delight and pride mingling within me to create a pleasantly warm sensation that I hoped I would experience time and time again.
"Do you not think that Blanche is blossoming into quite a beauty?"
Determined to keep the conversation casual, I barely glanced at either Edward or Anne as I spoke.
"Yes. What of it?"
Edward, not having quite the education in statecraft that Anne and I did, didn't realise where this was leading, but Anne did. She shot me a warning glance.
"She's only twelve, Elizabeth."
"Now. By the time anything was formally arranged, she'd be fourteen at least. After all, we'll have to wait for France to officially come out of mourning for Queen Catherine."
With a gracious incline of her head, Anne conceded the point. Edward looked from one to the other of us in puzzlement. "What do you mean? What's going on?"
"I'm thinking of our future," I informed him, continuing "Now that the French King Henri is a widower, his ministers will be looking for a new bride for him. Particularly with the Dauphin, Prince Francis, being so young and sickly. Remember, girls can never inherit in France, so the Princesses are no use to him. Anyway, I was thinking of offering them Blanche. It might help improve relations between our two countries."
"You'll never get it through. Blanche is barely more than a child, Elizabeth. Besides which, everyone knows what a passion King Henri has for his mistress Madame de Poitiers. Who's to say that he won't just marry her now that he's a free man?"
"She's not free to marry him. And although French marriages have been annulled in the past, they've always been royal marriages, not marriages between courtiers or the populace. And even if there were a precedent for such a thing happening, everyone knows that mistresses have more freedom than Queens, especially if they have long lasting influence over their lover. Madame de Poitiers doesn't strike me as the kind of woman who would easily sacrifice that type of influence. I doubt she'd accept the crown of France, even if King Henri begged her on bended knee to take it," Anne explained calmly, beating me to it.
"There's also the matter of Scotland. Queen Mary of Scots might just be a little girl of five, but if the rumours are true, her mother already plans to wed her to the Dauphin. If we don't want both our nearest neighbours against us, then England needs to be in on this alliance. Prince Francis is too young for Blanche, even if he wasn't already as good as promised to the Scots Queen, and the child in my belly is no good to us yet. Blanche is our only hope of an alliance with France in the reasonably near future."
"That's not strictly true. There's your other sister, Mary." Edward reminded me.
"Mary was declared a bastard by the Pope himself. A nobleman might marry her, if the dowry was right, but never a King. I know I said the opposite to my council a few months ago, but it is actually the truth." I sighed, wishing I knew how to explain my eldest sister's situation fully. It was just such a complicated one.
"The Lady Mary is also into her thirties. By royal standards, that's incredibly late for a first marriage, Your Grace. No, I share your misgivings, but Elizabeth is right. The only bride we can conceivably offer King Henri is the Princess Blanche."
I glanced at Anne in gratitude for her help and then reached across the table to Edward.
"I'm not saying any of this is set in stone, by any means. I only wanted to broach the idea, Edward. Will you at least think about it? For my sake?"
"Since I know you only want the best for your sister, of course I will. Don't fret yourself, darling," Edward assured me, before he rose from the table where we three had been lunching together.
"If you ladies will excuse me, I must go. My father wished to speak to me about matters in Suffolk."
"Of course. Go."
I waved my husband away with a nod, before once more turning to Anne; changing the conversation completely.
As if the world somehow knew that I was now open to discussing matrimonial prospects for my sisters, I had barely put my plans for Blanche's future aside for future consideration when Ruy Gomez da Silva came to me, asking for a private audience.
Since I was not actually busy at the time, I nodded. "Very well, Excellency. Come with me." I led him into my Privy Chamber and dismissed all the other petitioners and courtiers who were crowding it.
As soon as the doors shut behind them, I turned back to Ruy.
"What is it you wish to speak to me about?"
"Madam, I wish to – I wish to discuss some matters of – of a personal nature."
The Imperial Ambassador seemed unnaturally nervous. Smiling, I sought to put him at his ease.
"Come, Señor Gomez. Speak. Whatever it is that is clearly troubling you, I swear that I will not judge you."
"I thank you, Madam, but I am not troubled…I am merely…" Finally, twisting his hat between his hands, the Ambassador screwed up his courage enough to blurt, "I have come to petition you for the honour of pressing my suit with Your Majesty's sister, Lady Salisbury."
His words took my breath away. Despite all the training I had ever had in royal behaviour, I could only gape at Ruy in open-mouthed astonishment.
"You wish to press a suit with my sister? With Lady Salisbury? With a view to making her your bride?"
"Yes, My Lady Queen, it is so. Lady Salisbury and I have lived together under one roof since my arrival upon these shores. By now, we know each other well. I have increasingly come to admire her spirit and generosity as well as her beauty, her intellect and…"
"Enough." Still in shock, I held up a hand to stop the older man in his tracks. "Have you spoken to Lady Salisbury of this, Señor Gomez? Of your intentions towards her?"
The embarrassed silence that followed my words enabled me to guess at the answer. "You have not, have you?"
"No, Madam," Señor Gomez eventually confessed, before hurrying on "However, Lady Salisbury has never once failed to give me a reason to hope that, were I to do so, I would not be looked upon with disfavour."
Thinking over his words for a few moments, I reached a decision.
"Then, Excellency, I will say that I personally see no impediments to your union. Once you have told me that you have spoken to Lady Salisbury and she has not refused your suit or proposal, I will speak to her myself. If, after that, I am satisfied that she will receive you favourably as her husband, I will have a message sent to your master seeking his approval of the match. What say you?"
"Majesty, you are most gracious. A thousand heartfelt thanks." Señor Gomez kissed my hand, bowed and retreated, leaving me to stare after him, mind whirling.
In the seventeen years of my life, I had never once seen a sibling of mine wed. Now the idea of two prospective unions had presented themselves within a week of each other. Was the world going mad?