been in the dust.”
“Do not speak thus,” begged Jane. “That was how your father talked.”
“But Father was a great man. Think of all he did.”
Jane said bitterly: “All he did! He led his son to the scaffold, that with him he might shed his blood in the cause of ambition.”
But Robert laid his arm about her shoulders. “Dear Mother, that is the way of the world.”
“It shall not be your way, Robert.”
“Nay, do not fret. The axe is not for us. See how they keep us here. They leave us in peace. We are well fed, and now we may have visitors. Soon the day of our release will come.”
“I pray for it each night,” said Jane fervently.
She wished to know how they were fed, how their servants behaved.
“We are allowed more than two pounds each week for food,” said Robert, “and more for wood and candles. So you see, Mother, if we do not live like kings, we do not live like beggars.”
“I rejoice to hear it. But there is an evil odor here.”
“It comes from the river.”
“We dread the hot days,” said John.
“I will speak to the servants. They must take great care to keep the apartments sweet. This is not a good place to be in … especially during the summer.”
Robert was determined to drive away gloom. He was sure, he told her, that soon they would be free. He guessed it. He knew it. He had a way of knowing such things.
She could smile as she listened to Robert.
“How glad I am, dear John, that your brother is with you.”
“It has been merrier since he came,” said John.
And when Jane left them she felt happier than she had since she had lost them. That was due to her darling.
He can charm away even my miseries, she was thinking.
Amy came to see Robert. John asked that he should be taken to another cell, that husband and wife might be alone together.
Amy clung to Robert, covering his face with kisses. He returned her embrace and for a short while he was ready to make love to her. It was so long since they had met.
“Robert,” she insisted, “you still love me?”
“Have I not made that clear?”
“I have been so unhappy …”
“And what have I been, do you think?”
“But it has been so miserable without you. I thought that you would die.”
“Nay. I have many years before me.”
“Yes, Robert, yes. Do you think you will soon be free?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“But you do not seem to care.”
He was thoughtful for a second or so. He was thinking of freedom, the return to the life in Norfolk, farming, riding, making love to Amy. Was freedom so desirable? How foolish Amy was! He had a fancy for a different woman—a sharper-tongued, subtler woman, with flaming red hair and an imperious manner. He wanted a Princess, not a country girl.
“Of what do you think?” she asked suspiciously.
Had she sensed his desire for another woman? he wondered. Had she more discernment than he gave her credit for?
He said: “I have been thinking that if I had not married you I might not be here now.”
“Where would you be then?”
“In my grave.”
She stared at him for a moment, then she threw her arms about him. “Why, Robert, I am some use to you then.”
He laughed aloud because the sun was shining outside and it was good to be alive. He lifted her and kissed her with that sudden abandonment which was a way of his.
Now he was the passionate lover as he had been in the beginning, and when he was thus he was quite irresistible.
Amy was happy. She was with him again. He loved her; he was glad they had married.
She did not know that the memory of a Princess was constantly with him and that his thoughts of her filled him with a delightful blend of excitement, desire, and ambition.
The days were hot and sultry. The smell of the befouled river pervaded the cell. The sweating sickness had come to London, and the most dangerous place in the City was the Tower.
Day after day the corpses were taken out, but the place was still overcrowded, as it had been since the Wyatt rebellion. The heat hung over the river and the prisoners lay languid.
One morning John complained of feeling very sick indeed. Robert looked anxiously at his brother. The Earl’s face was a sickly yellow color and, to his horror, Robert saw the drops of sweat forming on his brow.
John had contracted