How this letter reveals her impulse for romance, her pathetic, dogged attempts to believe herself all-powerful!
Leicester, naturally, was far too cautious to take the tremendous risk involved, and contented himself with keeping at a distance and in exchanging polite and friendly letters with the Shrewsburys, such as the one quoted on page [170]. He was an adept at this kind of sugary testimonial. Certainly no finer instance could be given in support of the dignity, virtue, and innocence of an intriguing and busy lady from the pen of an arch-courtier—a man accused of wife-murder, seduction, poisoning, and political treachery.
CHAPTER XIII
THE DIVIDED WAY
Seeing that my Lady of Shrewsbury had triumphantly surmounted one of the greatest dangers she had ever drawn upon herself and hers, one can safely assume that after the foregoing letter she was in a tolerably prancing and jovial temper. Socially she really was for the moment a much more important item to be reckoned with than Mary Queen of Scots herself. All the difficulties of the past two years had only served to bring her into closer touch with both queens. Meantime she was a rich and honoured lady with a great many irons in the fire, and her wants and requirements were legion. She still wanted ale and wood and stone, she could not spend all her valuable time dancing attendance upon Mary, or sharing the dull semi-military routine of Sheffield Castle and Sheffield Lodge. She went to her beloved Chatsworth, and husband and wife exchanged letters. Here is a wistful appreciation from him:—
“My Sweetheart,—Your true and faithful zeal you bear me is more comfortable to me than anything I can think upon, and I give God thanks daily for his benefits he hath bestowed on me, and greatest cause I have to give him thanks that he hath sent me you in my old years to comfort me withal. Your coming I shall think long for, and shall send on Friday your litter horses and on Saturday morning I will send my folks, because Friday they will be desirous to be at Rotherham Fair.
“It appears by my sister Wingfield’s letter there is bruit of this Queen’s going from me. I thank you for sending it me, which I return again, and will not show it till you may speak it yourself what you hear; and I have sent you John Knifton’s letter, that Lord brought me, that you may perceive what is [? bruited] of the young King. I thank you for your fat capon and it shall be baked, and kept cold and untouched until my sweetheart come; guess you who it is. I have sent you a cock that was given to me, which is all the dainties I have here.
“I have written to Sellars to send every week a quarter of rye for this ten weeks, which will be as much as I know will be had there, and ten quarters of barley, which will be all that I can spare you. Farewell, my sweet true none and faithful wife.
“All yours,
“Shrewsbury.”[[47]]
Here is a letter from her to him, brisk, tart, affectionate all at once:—