AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Bess knew that the only way to save her sanity was to keep busy. Within three months of her husband's death, Bess had sold the London house and packed up everything. From Sir John Thynne, Bess leased his house at Brentford and moved the children there the moment the London house was sold. It was on the Thames close by her friend Nan Dudley's Syon House. The quiet village near Chelsea would give her privacy from the Court but still allow her to be close enough to London to learn everything that was happening.
Bess's income from her tenant farmers and mines was three hundred pounds a year. Her London expenses equaled her income, so the building at Chatsworth came to a halt. Not one pound could be expended on workmen 's wages or building materials. On top of this was the money she owed to Westmorland and to William Parr for the thousands of acres she and William had purchased from them.
Alone in her bed at night, she lay worrying about what would become of them all. She had shown a defiant face to the world, ordering the lawyers to use delaying tactics, but deep down inside she was realist enough to know the day of reckoning was inevitable. She feared that in the end Chatsworth and everything else she owned would have to be sacrificed. But at least her name had been on every legal document as co-owner. Bess had William to thank for the fact that she owned everything outright in her own name.
By keeping busy and expending all her energy, Bess got through the days. She played with the children, and she had learned to laugh again when she was with others, but the nights were something else entirely. She was so lonely she thought she would die of it. Her heart—and her body too—ached for him. She grew thin, and the emptiness inside her expanded instead of lessening, as day followed night and night followed day.
In late January Bess received a note from Frances Grey that read: I have a surprise for you and Nan Dudley. Meet me tomorrow at Syon House.
Both Bess and Nan were gowned in black silk when their friend Frances swept in wearing scarlet.
“Good God, you look like two old crows, sitting there in your widows' weeds. 'Tis time you threw off your mourning and took lovers!”
“Which is apparently what you have done,” Bess said dryly.
“Ah, that is where you are completely wrong, darling. I took lovers long before I became a widow.”
Nan Dudley was shocked. “You took a lover while your husband was alive?”
Frances's eyebrows arched. “And you didn't?”
“Duke Dudley gave me thirteen children; what the hell would I want with a lover?”
“Bess, surely you took lovers,” Frances demanded.
“No, I never did, Frances. It was all I could do to keep Rogue Cavendish happy. He was a man of considerable appetite.”
“Well, fortunately for me, I now have a husband of considerable appetite!” Frances waved her new wedding ring under their noses.
“You're married?” Nan asked in disbelief.
“To whom?” Bess questioned.
“To Adrian Stokes, darling, my master of horse.”
Nan Dudley was speechless.
Bess said, “How old is he?”
“Twenty-one, darling. He has bright red hair, and you know what they say about redheads! I'm replete as a cat filled with cream.”
“Aren't you afraid of Bloody Mary?” Bess demanded.
“She has forbidden me the Court, thank God; the place is like a tomb these days.” Frances leaned forward and lowered her voice confidentially. “My daughter Catherine tells me the queen is ill. Her belly is swollen, but it isn't a child as she would have everyone believe. Her husband, Philip, has gone back to Spain. He's had enough of her false pregnancies!” Catherine had been made a lady-in-waiting to the queen as compensation for sending her sister, Lady Jane, to the block.
“I hope Mary rots!” Bess said with venom.
The three friends indulged in highly treasonous conversation for the rest of the afternoon. Before Frances left, however, their talk turned back to marriage. Both Bess and Nan kissed their friend and wished her every happiness.
“In a way I have to admire Frances. She doesn't give a fart what the world thinks of her. I'll always love her no matter what outrageous thing she does.”
“Do you think there's any chance that the queen might be fatally ill?” Nan asked hopefully.
“Well, I certainly put a curse on her,” Bess hissed.
“So did my sons.” Nan sighed heavily. “The minute they were released, they went off to fight the war in France. The wretched queen declared war on France only at her husband's urging, to help Spain. It seems I never stop worrying over them.”
“They were in the Tower so long, Nan. Who managed to get them released?”
