The news they brought from England was as dark as the afternoon skies. King Philip was visiting his wife in London but he had brought her little joy, and everyone said he had only gone home to see what he could have from her. There was some vile gossip that he had taken his mistress with him and they danced every day under the queen’s tortured gaze. She would have had to sit on her throne and see him laughing and dancing with another woman, and then endure him raging against her council who were dragging their heels in the war against France.
I wanted to go to her. I thought that she must feel desperately friendless in a court that had become all Spanish and wickedly joyful once more, headed by a new mistress of the king’s and laughing at the English lack of sophistication. But the other news from England was that the burning of heretics was continuing without mercy, and I knew there was no safety for me in England – nor anywhere, come to that.
I resolved to stay in Calais, despite the cold, despite my loneliness, stay and wait, and hope that someday soon I should feel more able to decide, that someday soon I should recover my optimism, that someday, one day, I should find once more my sense of joy.
Summer 1557
By early summer the streets were filled with the sound of recruiting officers marching along, drumming and whistling for lads to volunteer for the English army to fight the French. The harbor was a continual bustle of ships coming and going, unloading weapons and gunpowder and horses. In the fields outside the city a little camp had sprung up and soldiers were marched here and there, and bawled at, and marched back again. All I knew was that the extra traffic through the city gate did not bring much extra trade. The officers and men of this ramshackle hastily recruited army were not great scholars, and I was afraid of their bright acquisitive gaze. The town became unruly with the hundreds of extra men coming through and I took to wearing a pair of dark breeches, tucked my hair up under my cap, and donned a thick jerkin, despite the summer heat. I carried a dagger in my boot and I would have used it if anyone had come against me or broken into the shop. I kept Marie, my father’s nurse, as my lodger and she and I bolted the door at six o’clock every night and did not open it until the morning, blowing out our candles if we heard brawling in the street.
The harbor was almost blocked by incoming ships; as soon as the men marched from the fields outside the town toward the outlying forts, the camp immediately filled with more soldiers. The day the cavalry troops clattered through the town I thought that our chimney pot would be shaken from the roof by the noise. Other women of my age lined the streets, cheering and waving as the men went by, throwing flowers and eyeing the officers; but I kept my head down. I had seen enough death; my heart did not leap to the whistle of the pipes and the urgent rattle of the drums. I saw Daniel’s sisters walking arm-in-arm on the ramparts in their best dresses, managing to look modestly down and all around them at the same time, desperate for some attention from any passing English officer. I could not imagine feeling desire. I could not imagine the excitement that seemed to have gripped everyone but me. All I felt was worry about my stock if the men ran out of control, and gratitude that I had chosen by luck a house which was one yard inside the city gate instead of one yard outside.
By midsummer the English army, marshaled, half trained and wholly wild for a fight, moved out of Calais, led by King Philip himself. They launched an attack on St. Quentin, and in August stormed the town and won it from the French. It was a resounding victory against a hated enemy. The citizens of Calais, ambitious to reclaim the whole of the lost English lands in France, went mad with joy at this first sign, and every returning soldier was laden with flowers and had a horn of wine pressed into his willing hand and was blessed as the savior of his nation.
I saw Daniel at church on Sunday when the priest preached the victory of God’s chosen people over the treacherous French, and then, to my amazement, he prayed for the safe delivery of the queen of a son and heir to the throne. For me, it was better news even than the taking of St. Quentin, and for the first time in long months I felt my heart lift. When I thought of her carrying a child in her womb again I felt my downturned face lift up and smile. I knew how glad she must be, how this must bring her back to the joy she had felt in early marriage, how she must think now that God had forgiven the English and she might become a gentle queen and a good mother.
When Daniel came up to me as we all left church he saw the happiness on my face and smiled. “You did not know of the queen’s condition?”
“How could I know?” I said. “I see nobody. I hear only the most general of gossip.”
“There is news of your old lord too,” he said levelly. “Have you heard?”
“Robert Dudley?” I could feel myself sway against the shock of his name. “What news?”
Daniel put a hand under my elbow to steady me. “Good news,” he said quietly though I could see it brought little joy for him. “Good news, Hannah, be calm.”
“Is he released?”
“He and half a dozen other men accused of treason were released some time ago and fought with the king.” The twist of Daniel’s mouth indicated that he thought Lord Robert would serve his own cause first. “Your lord raised his own company of horse a month ago…”
“He came through the town? And I didn’t know?”
“He fought at St. Quentin and was mentioned in dispatches for bravery,” Daniel said shortly.
I felt myself glow with pleasure. “Oh! How wonderful!”
“Yes,” Daniel said without enthusiasm. “You won’t try to find him, Hannah? The countryside is unsafe.”
“He’ll go home through Calais, won’t he? When the French sue for peace?”
“I should think so.”
“I will try to see him then. Perhaps he’ll help me return to England.”
Daniel went pale, his face even graver than before. “You cannot risk going back while the rules against heresy are so strong,” he said quietly. “They would be bound to examine you.”
“If I were under my lord’s protection I would be safe,” I said with simple confidence.
It cost him a good deal to acknowledge Lord Robert’s power. “I suppose so. But please, talk to me before you take a decision. His credit may not be so very good, you know, it is only one act of bravery in a long life of treason.”
I let the criticism go.
“Can I walk you to your door?” He offered me his arm and I took it and fell into step beside him. For the first time in months I felt a little of my own darkness lift and dissolve. The queen was with child, Lord Robert was free and honored for his bravery, England and Spain in alliance had defeated the French army. Surely, things would start coming right for me too.
“Mother tells me that she saw you in the marketplace in breeches,” Daniel remarked.
“Yes,” I said carelessly. “When there are so many soldiers and rough men and women on the streets I feel safer like that.”
“Would you come back to my house?” Daniel asked. “I would like to keep you safe. You could keep the shop on.”
“It’s making no money,” I conceded honestly. “I don’t stay away from you for the sake of the shop. I can’t come back to you, Daniel. I have made up my mind and I will not change it.”
We had reached my door. “But if you were in trouble or danger you would send for me,” he pressed me.
“Yes.”
“And you wouldn’t leave for England, or meet with Lord Robert, without telling me?”
I shrugged. “I have no plans, except I should like to see the queen again. She must be so happy, I should like to see her now, expecting her child. I should so like to see her in her joy.”