Читать интересную книгу The Murder in the Tower: The Story of Frances, Countess of Essex - Jean Plaidy

Some fell from their horses; some boldly cuffed a gentleman in the King’s presence.

It did not matter. One way was as good as another for a handsome young man to bring himself to the King’s notice.

George Villiers had indeed come to Court.

There was great exultation in the Pembroke group, particularly when a few days after the incident of the ruined suit, a post in the King’s bedchamber fell vacant.

“It could not be more opportune,” cried Pembroke. “The time had come to put Villiers in the King’s intimate circle. It is the duty of one of us to suggest to His Majesty that Mr. George Villiers would adequately fill the post which has fallen vacant.”

When the matter was suggested to James he was excited. He had not forgotten young Villiers and he would have been delighted to comply with the request; but knowing Robert’s feelings he hesitated and said he would think of the matter and give his answer in a few days.

This was a blow because Villiers’s supporters had believed that James would agree immediately.

Robert still had his friends who knew that if he were supplanted by Villiers their own careers would automatically suffer. So it was not long before Robert heard that Pembroke and his friends were trying to get the bedchamber post for Villiers.

He talked to Frances about this and her eyes grew dark with anger. She was throwing herself wholeheartedly into the conflict against Villiers; she found it stimulating to have something to work for; also it took her mind off that little band of blackmailers whom she was paying regularly.

“Villiers must not have the post,” she cried. “If he does, depend upon it, he will be in your place ere long.”

“He could not be. He is too young and inexperienced.”

“You were once.”

“It has taken me years to get to my present position.”

“Villiers looks a sharp one.”

“I see,” said Robert bitterly, “that you mean I was a fool.”

“You had friends to help you.”

“And so has he.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. He has powerful men behind him. You had my great-uncle, but he is dead now.”

“I would to God Overbury were here.”

Frances clenched her hands and screamed: “He was no good to you … no good to us. You were a fool over that man, Robert. For God’s sake try to have a little more sense.”

She ran from the room and Robert scowled after her.

What had happened to his life? What had happened to him?

Frances was not the sweet and loving woman he had imagined her to be. She was continually goading him. A fool! Was he? He thought of other men who had taken bribes—something he had disdained to do. Had he been a simpleton? He had always agreed with the King … until now. He had never tried to force his opinions on James.

Did James think him a fool too? Did James think that he could introduce that sly boy into the bedchamber because he, Robert, was too soft to protest?

He went off to James who had retired for the night and arrogantly entered the private apartments.

“Why, Robbie,” said James, starting up. “What brings you here at this time?”

“I see, Your Majesty, that you are no longer my good friend.”

“Now, Robbie, what has come to ye, lad. Where’s the gentle boy I used to know?”

“Perhaps Mr. George Villiers has taken his place.”

“Ah—so it’s that, lad, is it. Nay, Robbie, there’s none who could take your place with me. Did you know?”

“It does not seem that is so.”

James patted the bed. “Sit ye down, Robbie, and listen to your old Dad. You’re not the boy you used to be. What’s happened to change you?”

“I change?” cried Robert. “It is you who have changed … toward me … ever since they brought that pretty boy to your notice.”

James shook his head. “You grieve me, Robbie. You grieve me sorely. You come to me in temper at this most unseasonable hour. You bereave me of my rest, it seems on purpose to hurt me. Why have you become sullen of late, Robert? What has happened to your love for me? I have suffered through my affection for you. I have prayed for you, because, my boy, I think that if you go on as you have begun you will be sorry. I never prayed for any subject alive but you. I will speak to you now with great seriousness. You should not forget that you owe your wealth and your standing here at Court to me. It is because I have loved you so much that I have borne patiently with your tempers. Do not try me too much. Continue to love me, be to me as you once were and hold me by the heart, Robbie. If you do this you may build upon my favor as upon a rock. Rest assured that I shall never weary of showing my affection for you. I have accepted your arrogance toward me, and I forgive it—although it is something I find hard to forget. Your fate is in your own hands. Here is the best and kindest master you could ever have. But if you are ungrateful, if you forget that although he loves you, he is still your King, then you will have only yourself to blame for the consequences.”

Robert listened sullenly to his speech. He longed, even as James did, to be back on the old footing. He wished that he were more articulate; he wished that he could explain to this good friend how everything had changed since he had betrayed Essex through his love for Frances. He believed that James would have understood more readily than he did himself.

He fell on to his knees then and kissed James’s hand, and seeing the sullenness fade from his face, the King was delighted.

“Your Majesty,” said Robert, “forgive me.”

“We’ll say no more of this matter, Robbie. But forget not what I have said.”

Robert remembered then why he had come here and he said: “Could I ask one favor of you?”

“What is it, Robbie?”

“A kinsman of mine seeks a place at Court and as there is one at this time in the Bedchamber it would give me the greatest pleasure to offer him that.”

Deeply moved the King answered: “My dear friend, dispose of the place as you deem fit. And remember this: I shall never suffer any to rise in my favor except that he may thank you for it.”

This was victory. Robert wept with affection and relief; and both he and James were happy because it seemed to them that their love was as firm as it ever had been.

There was disappointment in the Pembroke faction when it was known that the bedchamber post had gone to Somerset’s nephew.

“It seems,” said Sir Thomas Lake, “that Somerset has not lost a jot of the King’s favor.”

“James always clung to his old friends,” agreed Pembroke; “but he is taken with young Villiers and we must not lose heart. I am going to see the Queen.”

Anne received him, as always, with pleasure and he immediately told her what he wanted of her.

“Somerset is becoming unbearably arrogant, Your Majesty.” Anne nodded her agreement, being always ready to listen to criticism of Somerset.

“There is only one way of clipping his wings, and that is to turn the King’s affection to another.”

“And have another ape Somerset become as overbearing?”

“Villiers is young as yet.”

“Do not think that youth is less arrogant than middle-age. Promote this young man, my lord, and I tell you he will soon be despising us as Somerset does.”

“This young man is of a different nature. He is more ready to learn.”

“He’ll not be for long.”

“If he should in time grow like Somerset that time is far distant, Your Majesty. He could not become so powerful for years, and we must bring Somerset down or submit to his rule.”

“You are right in that,” Anne sighed. “What do you wish me to do?”

“Present him to the King. Tell him that you ask this favor of him, which is a knighthood for George Villiers and a place in the Bedchamber.”

“There was a place in the Bedchamber.”

“Gone to Somerset’s nephew, Your Majesty. Soon there will be no post at Court which is not occupied by one of Somerset’s men.”

“Well,” said Anne, “I think you are right in that.” She hesitated. “I will do as you wish,” she went on, “and I shall ask Prince Charles to give me his support.”

This was victory. The King was longing to give honors to Villiers; and if the Queen asked a favor how could he refuse her—particularly when it was one which it would please him so much to bestow?

It was St. George’s Day and outside the King’s bedchamber George Villiers waited with his patrons. With James were the Queen and Prince Charles and it was known that the Queen was going to ask a favor of her husband.

At last the summons for Villiers to enter the bedchamber was given and the young man went in.

Robert who had heard a rumor of what was about to happen could not believe it until he came to the door of the King’s bedchamber and saw a group of his enemies there—among them the excited young man on whom he knew they had fixed their hopes. He was in time to hear the summons and see the handsome youth walk into the bedchamber, and an impulse came to him to push them aside, to stride into the bedchamber, to upbraid the King before them all; but he remembered James’s words when he had not very long ago awakened him at what the King called an unseasonable hour. James had warned him then.

But how could he stand by and see this young man made a Gentleman of the Bedchamber when he had shown the King so clearly that he resented the office being given.

He curbed his anger. Frances would have spurred him on, but she was not with him now; and when he had to make his own decisions he was never as fiery as she would have him be.

He wrote a hasty message to the King, asking James to make Villiers a Groom of the Bedchamber instead of a Gentleman, if he must grant the Queen’s favor and give the young man some office.

Haughtily he called a page and bade him take the message to the King.

James received it, read it and thought sadly: Will he never learn his lesson?

He then knighted George Villiers and appointed him one of the Gentlemen of the Bedchamber.

That ambitious man, Sir George Villiers, had no wish to quarrel with the Earl of Somerset who still held the highest offices in the Kingdom. George Villiers knew that he had a long way to go before he was as powerful. If he could make a truce with Somerset, let him know that he had not thought of attempting to step into his place, he was sure he would more quickly climb in the King’s favor.

He therefore sought an interview with Somerset. When he heard who was asking to see him Robert was angry, with the most violent of all anger—that born of fear.

The fellow must be sure of himself, since he asked an audience of him. Who did he think he was? Did he imagine that because he was a Gentleman of the Bedchamber he could become on friendly terms with the most important ministers?

Villiers came to him, his handsome face wearing an expression of humility.

“My lord,” he said, “it is good of you to grant me this interview. I come to ask that I may serve you in whatever way you choose for me so to do. I have always wanted to take my preferment under your favor. I offer myself to you as your most humble servant.”

Robert’s anger was suddenly uncontrollable, because he saw himself in this young man, as he had been in those early days when the King had become so enchanted by his grace and beauty. It was a cruel thing to be asked to witness oneself on the decline, the new star about to rise.

“Get you gone from my presence,” he said, his mouth tight, his eyes smoldering. “You shall enjoy no friendship or favor from me. One thing I will give you—and that is sound advice. Listen, fellow. Attempt to come creeping to me again and I’ll break your neck.”

“So this is how you keep your promises to me?” stormed Robert.

“My promises to you?” answered James. “What mean you? What did I promise and not give you?”

“You have taken that young fool into the Bedchamber.”

“I am the King. I select my own Gentleman, you should know.”

“Gentleman! And who is this gentleman?”

“If you refer to Sir George Villiers, I’d say he was as good a gentleman as Robert Carr was when he first came to Court.”

“I asked you, if you must favor him, to make him a Groom.”

James was stern. “I wished to make him a Gentleman, and must I remind you again that I am the King?”

But Robert could not curb his anger. He was worried about Frances. He was beginning to feel that he was married to a woman whom he did not know. He was losing his hold on the King. His whole world had become insecure; and he was alarmed, though he did not entirely know why. He needed the advice of shrewd men; but those who had advised and befriended him were dead. Northampton! Overbury!

The memory of Overbury depressed him more than ever.

He cried out: “You are untrue to your promises. You have not dealt fairly with me.”

“Robert,” said James, and there was more sadness than anger in his voice, “I dismiss you now. Go to your own apartments, and do not come to me again until you remember that though I have humbled myself in my regard for you, I am the King of this realm and as such your master.”

“You have turned against me.”

James laid a hand on Robert’s arm.

“Nay. Cast off your sullenness, throw away your tempers. Only do that and you shall see that my love for you has not changed. I am a faithful man, Robert; but I cannot say how long my love for you will last if you goad me so. Go now and think on what I have said. Reflect well, Robert. Be my good friend once more and you shall see that my love for you has not diminished.”

Robert left the King and, pacing up and down his room, he realized how foolish he had been.

James was his friend and James was a faithful man. He might in time feel a great affection for Villiers, but that need not affect his love for Robert Carr. He must be sympathetic, understanding; he must not give way to these nervous tempers.

He held the Privy Seal; he was the Lord Chamberlain; he was still the most powerful man in the Kingdom.

He must regain his old sweet temper; he must explain to Frances that although the King loved him and had given him his great possessions, he would be a fool to continue to bully James who had hinted that he could not endure much more of it; he must be wise, calm, serene.

And when he endeavored to be so, James was his affectionate self once more.

But he was beginning to smile rather fondly on Sir George Villiers—not, he wanted everyone to know, that this interest in the young and charming man in any way changed his abiding affection toward my Lord Somerset.

James was happier than he had been for some time. He was delighted with the new young man whom he had nicknamed Steenie because of his likeness to St. Stephen; and Robert was being his old self, understanding that the friendship between them was too deep to be disturbed by a new fancy.