Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,34
need to speak to Mother about. Privately.” Robert practically pushed Guildford out of the room. “Go play a game of tennis with Hal.”
A baffled-looking Guildford left the room. Robert let the sound of his departing footsteps fade away. Then he said in a low voice, “I’m in love.”
My heart sank. “The lady Elizabeth. Robert, she is not for you. The second-highest lady in the land—”
“Calf-love,” Robert said firmly. “No. Amy Robsart.”
“Who?”
Robert reached in the pouch at his side and pulled out a locket. “I sent a man to paint this of her,” he said reverently, carefully opening it and laying it on my outstretched palm.
I gazed at a limning of a pretty blonde girl of about Robert’s own age of seventeen. Though the artist was obviously skilled, the girl herself looked to me much like every other pretty blonde girl in England, but I kept quiet on this point. “She’s lovely. But who is she? I don’t know of any Robsarts.”
“She’s John Robsart’s daughter.” He anticipated my next question. “He’s a man of substance in Norfolk. He’s been sheriff there. We stayed at his place at Stanford Hall while we were marching to Norwich this summer. Amy and I got to talking. When Father had finished that business with Kett’s men, we stayed at Stanford Hall again, and we got better acquainted.”
“Robert. Have you got this girl with child?”
“No! She is a virgin. I don’t want to seduce her. I’ve never even tried. I want to make her my wife.”
I stared. Substantial John Robsart might be, but his daughter was no suitable match for an earl’s son, even an earl’s younger son, and Robert knew it as well as I did. “Robert—”
“I know, I know! I could find a bride with better breeding or a better dowry. But I don’t want such a bride. I want Amy. I’ll be miserable without her. And she wants me. Not marrying me will break her heart.” Robert gave me his most earnest look, one he had perfected over the years and that never failed to work its intended effect. “She might pine away without me and die. It does happen, you know.”
“The streets of London weren’t piled high with unhappy lovers the last time I looked.” But Robert had me, and he knew it. “It will be your father’s decision, in any case. But for what it’s worth, I won’t oppose the match.”
“I knew you wouldn’t.”
“I suppose you want me to speak to your father.”
“Yes. Oh, I could speak to him—but you’re a woman. He’ll see reason more quickly if it comes from you.”
“I should think that you wouldn’t want him to see reason, because if he does, he’ll never approve of this unsuitable match. But I will speak to him. I seem to be much in demand for that type of thing lately.”
“That’s because you’re good at it, Mother.”
“Flatterer. Save your blandishments for Amy.”
***
“Oh, her,” John said.
I found myself mildly disappointed I had not provoked more of a reaction. “You know?”
“I guessed. They spent a lot of time in each other’s company that evening, I noticed, and when he found out that she helped brew the family ale, he took an inordinate interest in the brewing process. So he fancies himself in love with this girl?”
“Yes. I am to intercede with you for their marriage.”
“A love match. I can’t say that I put much faith in them. Look at King Henry, besotted with Anne Boleyn and later that silly Howard girl. And Queen Catherine, losing her good sense over that rascal Thomas Seymour. I could think of others if I put my mind to it, I daresay.”
“But there were so many other things wrong with those matches besides them being made for love. Robert and Amy are alike in years, with no prior attachments or entanglements like the king had, and they are doing the right thing by seeking our blessing, instead of marrying in secret like the queen did. And how is their love match different from any other? They will have to mature together, just as we matured together when we were first married.”
“I don’t remember us being that immature when we married.”
“Well, I do. Do you remember how I could not do the household accounts to your satisfaction until two years into the marriage? How hateful I was to you when I first got with child?”
“True. You were a terror. And I was a tyrant.” John smiled fondly. “I’d shut it out of my memory. But we are getting