And then of course it is easier for him; how should he be so plagued with fears like me? He does not have the hunger for land and the fear of loss that I have. He was not raised by a bankrupted widow, he did not have to scrape and serve his way into a good place. He never had to choose his friends on the basis of what they would do for him; he never had to sell himself to the highest bidder, yes, and run the auction too. He does not even know that these are the abbeys’ gold candlesticks on his table and their flocks of sheep on his land. His purity is founded and protected by my greed and calculation. I do the hard and dirty work in this marriage and tonight, for once, I would like to be as clean as he.

We stop for the first night at the castle at Ashby-de-la-Zouche, one of Hastings’ houses, and though Queen Mary is only here for a night she has to be royally served, and it is my task to make sure it is so. More than ever I want her to see that we are doing the best we can for her. I have to send outriders ahead of her guards to make sure that the house is ready for her arrival; Hastings had shut it down while he was at court, and so my servants have to open it and air the rooms and light the fires. Then I have to catch up with them as quickly as I can so that I can have the wagon of her special goods unpacked and in her room ready for her dinner. I have to have her bedroom fit for a queen before I dream of sitting down to eat. She has to have her special carpet from Turkey on the floor beneath her bed; she has to have her own linen sheets on her bed, lavender-scented; she has to have a change of clothes for the next day, two changes of linen, starched and ironed, and her little dog washed and walked.

Yet all the time that I am fussing about her missing Belgian lace handkerchiefs I am waiting for the news that the army is upon us and closing fast. My wagon train lumbers slowly in the rear, forever getting stuck in the thick mud or having to go round rivers swollen with winter rain, and I have to be with it as we scramble for Coventry. I am unprotected: all the guards are around her, two hours ahead of me. If the army of the North come upon us tomorrow it will be me they find first, with a wagonload of Papist treasures, quite without defense. At any moment they could ride down on us and all I will have to protect myself is a Turkey carpet, a dozen linen sheets, and the queen’s stupid little dog.

ASHBY-DE-LA-ZOUCHE CASTLE: GEORGE

NOVEMBER, 1569