Chapter 23

Blanche might be safely back at Court, none the worse for wear for her months in Ireland, but she wasn't the only sister I'd been missing. There were two other little girls, both just eight years old, which I hadn't seen since before their departure. It was high time I rectified that, so the morning after I had spoken to Señor Gomez, knowing that their week with Sir William and Lady Mary Stafford would be over and they would be back at their duties in my sister's rooms, I paid them a visit.

Not wanting to overburden them with protocol, I swept in unannounced and startled the flock of ladies tremendously.

"Oh, Your Majesty!"

Lady Anne Stanhope, my sister's new Lady of the Bedchamber, was the first to see me. She dropped into a curtsy and the rest followed suit. Including two dark-haired young girls who bent before me, chirruping "Dia duit, Your Majesty".

"Eleanor, Jessica, I want you to stay here. The rest of you may go." Glancing around, I realised fully that my sister wasn't there, even though her ladies were. "Why don't you go and wait on your mistress?"

My voice was sharp. As well it might be. The number of women in the outer chamber made it clear to me that, wherever my sister was, she must be almost unattended. I couldn't allow that, particularly not now that she was of marriageable age. Ireland, where she was ruler, was one thing. Here, where she was under my protection, was quite another.

"Her Highness is hawking in the gardens with Lord Ormonde," Lady Stanhope tried to assure me that my sister would come to no harm, but I was taking no chances.

"I don't care. Go."

My tone was not one that anyone cared to argue with. With a rustle of silk and satin, the ladies rose and filed out, leaving my little sisters curtsying before me.

"Nora, Jess, look at me." I held out a hand to each of them, raising them up. They kept their gazes down demurely until I cupped my hand over their chins and tilted their heads up. "What's wrong?"

"Are you angry with us?"

"No! Why would I be?"

"You sounded so angry just now."

"Oh! But not with you! I could never be angry with you, darlings. No, it's the others. They should know not to leave Blanche alone. She's too old for that."

"But can't she look after herself?"

Nora's innocent question made me chuckle. "It's not quite that simple, darling. But never mind that. Tell me what Ireland's like. I've never been, you see."

"Green!" was the first word out of Jess's mouth. I laughed.

"Well, they do call it the Emerald Isle. But what do you do all day?"

"We have our lessons in the morning and then, if it's raining, we stay with Blanche, but if it's not, we ride out with Aoife."

"Aoife?" I asked, curious as to who my little sisters were associating with.

"She's a local chieftain's daughter. Lord Ormonde arranged for her to teach us Irish. She teaches Blanche too."

"Oh?"

"Yes. She's wonderful! She's got wild black curls and blue-grey eyes. She's almost as pretty as you are. And she's got Jess over her fear of riding."

"I was never scared, Nora! I just didn't like riding on a saddle! Now that I can ride bareback…"

"What else do you study?" I interjected, hiding the fact that I was unsure whether I wanted my little sisters to be riding bareback over the wilds of Ireland and determined to avoid a sibling dispute if I could at all help it. "Irish, riding and what else?"

"Music, dancing, Latin and French. And needlework, of course," Jess smiled as she said the last of their subjects, and I smiled with her, reaching out to stroke her hair.

"Of course. We couldn't let all that talent go to waste, could we?"

"I can dance a salladre! And a bass dance!" Nora cried, suddenly jealous of the extra attention I was paying Jess. Rising, I went to the virginals in the corner.

"Come and show me, then. Blanche said you'd danced a salladre for the Earl of Kildare. Show me that one."

Running my hands through a scale first to check the instrument was in tune, I began to play a gay salladre, feeling a rush of pride fill me as Nora, thrilled at being the centre of attention for once, started to dance with all the skill that she could muster.

The next day was Christmas Day and Edward and I were expected to receive gifts from all our courtiers, as well as giving and exchanging our own.

He commissioned a necklace of white gold set with garnets and opals carved into tiny flowers, with three larger Tudor Roses – Rubies surrounding pearls – hanging from a silver ship in the centre of the rope of jewels, for me. Now that I had more time on my hands, because I couldn't ride out to follow the hounds as I so loved to do, I embroidered him a scabbard and sword belt, entwining our initials and family emblems in lover's knots.

He loved it and wore it beneath his green velvet doublet, cinched tight about his waist, when we went in to dine before the Court and accept our gifts from them. For my part, though I had meant to wear green and silver satin, I changed my mind, clothing myself instead in a low-necked gown of burgundy damask, determined to show my new necklace off to its full effect.

Thus attired, we went out to join Anne and my sister on the dais and accept our Court's best wishes for the season.

As Mary knelt before us, entreating me to accept a crystal comb for my hair and Edward a little wolfhound puppy, I thought I saw the gleam of a gold ring hanging on a chain around her neck. However, I ignored it and said nothing until the Imperial Ambassador came to us.

He presented us with his master's gifts – an ivory-inlaid mirror for me and a set of the finest Spanish lances for my husband – and was about to be dismissed by Edward when he turned to me and murmured, "With your permission, Madam, I have spoken to Lady Salisbury."

"So soon? Is she willing?"

"She accepted my ring."

"Really? Then I must certainly speak to her at the next opportunity. God, Emperor and Lady Salisbury willing, we could have the service performed in the spring. What say you, Excellency?"

"If that is what pleases Your Majesty. Merry Christmas." Ruy retreated with a bow, presumably hoping to be able to find Mary, while Edward turned to me, "There's something I'm missing. Why is His Excellency talking about Mary and a ring?"

"Señor Gomez wants to marry Mary," I replied, laying a hand over his reassuringly. "It's nothing serious. Don't worry, I haven't sent us to war with Spain without telling you!"

"Nothing serious? This is your sister's future we're talking about! Our sister's."

"Well, I will talk to Mary about it before I write to the Emperor, but if she's accepted his ring, then we shouldn't have to worry about her. She's old enough and noble enough to look after herself, after all."

"I'll talk to her with you. As soon as the festivities are over next week," Edward decided, in a tone that brooked no argument. Not that I was arguing. The fact that Edward cared for my sisters as much as he did for his own family was part of the reason I loved him.

"Of course you will. We'll go to Buckingham House next week. Together."

I squeezed his hand gently, before withdrawing mine from his grasp. "Now come on. Call the French Ambassador up, or we'll be at these gifts all night."

Stifling a laugh at my dry whisper, Edward did as I asked of him, waving the French Ambassador forward without further delay.

Mary welcomed us to Buckingham House with her usual grace and poise, instructing her maid, Susan, to fetch us some ale and helping Edward arrange me before the fire, even though I insisted I wasn't cold.

"You shouldn't have come out in this weather, Sister," she chided, tucking an extra blanket around me for safety's sake, "What if you should be taken ill? Think of the child."

"Don't fuss so, Mary, for Heaven's sake. I'm seventeen. Old enough to know my own mind," I protested.

"You're still my little sister. My little sister Bessie. You know, I used to treat you like my little girl; as if you were my daughter. This was before…before…"

"Before Mama turned me against you," I finished abruptly, trying to control the tears that burned behind my eyelids as I spoke. I loved my mother dearly. Contemplating the fact that she hadn't been as sweet as I remembered her was never pleasant. But in this case, I knew it was true. Mama had turned me against Mary.

In my mother's defence, she had been insecure and vulnerable. Worried about Jane Seymour's son, Father's new bastard son, and about the English people possibly rallying around their former Princess, despite the Blackfriars verdict. Because I was their Princess Elizabeth, because I was "Great Harry's" daughter, the commoners had loved me far more than they had ever loved my mother, the one they blamed for the King ever deciding to investigate the validity of his marriage to the Dowager Princess Katherine at all, Mama had decided to use that to her advantage. She had turned me against Mary, whom I adored at the time, telling me how rude and insolent Mary had been towards her, her rightful Queen. Being only four, I had believed a woman as beautiful and gentle as my mother would never tell a lie and swallowed everything she told me almost instantly.

Mama had hoped that, if I didn't care for Mary, neither would the commoners. That hadn't worked – they still clung to the old ways and loved her as much as ever, even if they no longer called her Princess Mary – but it had destroyed my relationship with my elder sister forever.

The rift between us had only worsened when Jess and Nora had been born and I'd been taught to regard them as my sisters more than I regarded Mary or Lord Nottingham as my siblings, and my mother's death for adultery had been the final straw. Mary, who'd viewed her as a whore and a traitoress, believed she had received her just desserts. In fact, since Blanche and I had remained legitimate through the use of the good faith clause, which was more than she had when her mother's marriage had been annulled, she felt that my mother had been treated more generously than she ought to have been. She'd forgotten that, Princess or not, I was just a shocked, grieving little girl, who was desperately trying to come to terms with what had happened and the implications of it, as well as comfort her own little sisters. She had treated me far too harshly and, in retaliation, I had withdrawn from her completely, instead clinging to Kat and Anne, the latter of whom had very quickly become the older sister figure that I so craved.

"Never mind how you used to treat Elizabeth, Mary. I hear we may soon be congratulating you on a happy event of your own."

Edward, knowing how volatile my emotions were at the moment, interrupted my musings. "Is it true that the Imperial Ambassador has asked for your hand?"

At the mention of Ruy Gomez, my older sister blushed furiously. She would look neither Edward nor I in the eye. Leaning forward, I took her hand "Mary? Maria?"

"He has, Your Grace," she finally admitted, in a voice that was scarcely more than a whisper. "And I've accepted."

"Are you sure, Mary? Are you sure it's what you want? We'll give our permission in a heartbeat, but only if you're sure, because I want to see you happy. You're my sister and I want to see you happy."

My hand tightened on my sister's and I had the gratifying relief of seeing her smile as she nodded.

"I'm sure, Elizabeth. Ruy's a good man. He'll treat me well. I know he will. And he can take me to Spain. I can live where my mother lived in her girlhood. I've always wanted to do that."

Mary raised her head to include Edward in her steady gaze as she continued, "We're not you two, we never will be, but we're fond enough of each other in our own way. I want to be more than his hostess. I want to be his wife. I want to bear his children while I still can. I've thought about this long and hard, even before he asked me. I'm sure. I want to be Doña Maria Gomez de la Silva."

Edward and I glanced at each other.

"She's sure," he mouthed and I nodded. Taking a deep breath, my husband spoke again, to my sister this time.

"Then, Mary, I suggest you start wearing that ring, rather than having it on a chain around your neck. I'll write to the Emperor and seek his approval of the match."

"Do it now."

I looked sideways at Edward, willing him to hear how earnest I was. If Mary was sure she'd be happy as Ruy Gomez's wife, then who was I, who'd also married for love, to gainsay her?

Edward nodded. "Of course I will. Shall I see you back at Whitehall?"

"Yes. I'll dine with Mary. Fortify myself for the arduous journey home," I replied, layering my voice heavily with sarcasm.

However, Edward didn't notice my tone, or if he did, he pretended not to, as he got up to kiss me on the forehead.

"You do that, darling. Take care of yourself."

Then he kissed Mary on both cheeks as she rose to her feet, calling a servant to see him out.

"I'll do my best for you, Mary, I promise."

"I know you will, My Lord. Thank you."

"Just make sure she gets home in one piece."

"I will," Mary assured him and then he was gone, braving the cold, preparing to try to arrange my sister's future.

After a few minutes of watching her pace the room nervously, I laughed "Come here, Mary! Forget my husband for a while."

"How can I do that?" she retorted waspishly. "He holds my future in his hands."

"No, the Emperor does." I reminded her. "He's the one who has to say yes now, remember. And anyway, we're not going to know for weeks. You've got to stop worrying about this."

"But what can I do?"

"Treat me like a little sister. Treat me like you used to do. Tell me what it was like when I was a child, when I adored you, before my mother broke us apart," I suggested, seizing on the first topic that came into my head.

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

Curtsying briefly, as though to make up for her earlier sharpness, Mary came to stand behind me, facing the fire, which crackled merrily, soothing us both with its heat as we tried to make up for lost time and salvage something of our former relationship; a relationship that I, for one, scarcely remembered.