Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [92]
Suddenly the queen frowned. “Once again you have presumed too far,” she said loudly enough to draw attention to us.
I bowed so she would not see my angry humiliation, whereupon she murmured in my ear, “Attend me in my chamber at nine o’clock tonight.” Then she struck me with her fan. “Away!”
14 December 1589. I will endure a thousand blows with whatever instrument she chooses, if she remains true to her word!
At the appointed hour I went to my royal mistress. Her erratic mood had gone, and she came at once to the heart of the matter.
“I do not forgive presumption, but I admire persistence,” she said. “How many times now have you tried to send your ships to Virginia despite the embargo? And John White has covered my desk with his petitions.” She paused. “Do you think my colonists are still alive?”
I affirmed the land contained everything needful for their well-being. I was afraid to say more, as my words so often displeased her.
“John White failed to govern them well. Surely they have now fallen into factions.”
I recalled Catherine’s letter concerning that very matter. “Men cannot govern themselves if they are all equals,” was all I said.
“I must also know if the Spanish have located the colony,” she said. “Our spies report that King Philip has sent out a fleet to look for it.”
This was what I dreaded most: that Spanish mariners, informed by spies in the West Indies, had captured the fort and now controlled Virginia. Had they slain all the colonists? Or were they taken captive, and Catherine forced into the arms of a swarthy Spaniard?
The queen was peering at me. “You loved her, did you not?” she asked.
“Your … Majesty?” I said in some confusion.
“You know whom I mean.” Her voice was not unkind. “You gave this to her.”
She held up a handkerchief with her initials in the corner. It was the very one she had given me, the one I then gave to Catherine when she visited my library. Had I loved her? The real question was, did I have the courage that Catherine had, to admit my love?
I chose my words with care. “Your Majesty, I have loved—”
She held up her hand, interrupting me. “Never mind. Do not answer me. That was long ago.” Then she pressed the handkerchief into my hand. “Take it and give it to her again.”
She spoke as if Lady Catherine were in the next room. I looked into her eyes for signs of debility, but those bright lights, enfolded now in tiny wrinkles, showed no signs of an aged mind.
“Now you jest with me, Your Grace. Truly I deserve your reproof and even your scorn, but—”
“I do not jest.” Her voice was sharp. “I give you the opportunity—nay, I command you—to right a wrong that I regret.” She turned away from me. “I banished her for nothing more than loving you.”
I stood motionless, amazed by this confession.
When Elizabeth glanced back at me, her eyes were moist. “Which was no great wrong, or if it was, the greatest have been guilty of it, too.”
Was she admitting her love for me as well as her sorrow for injuring Catherine? Oh, what did it even matter? Like a gift were the words that fell from her lips.
“I cannot let those brave people perish. Sir Walter, I will release your ships, and you may use them to supply my colonists.”
I sank to my knees and with choice words declared her graciousness. Then the thought of my nemesis gave me pause. “Walsingham will try to stop me,” I said.
The queen pressed her lips tightly together. “Walsingham is not the king! I am sovereign here, and I declare his unreasoning envy shall no longer hinder your enterprise. I will give out that I have sent you back to Ireland because you displeased me. But in fact you will sail to Virginia secretly. There you will ensure it is duly governed and return with a report. John White may accompany you. No one will know about the voyage but the three of us.”
For a moment I was stunned that the queen would act without the knowledge and approval of her ministers. And