Lady Jane: A Time For Us

Twist Of Fate

Following the births of Grace and Temperance, the family grew to include Robert, Katherine, and Ambrose. There were also Edward, who lived but six months, Mary, who was stillborn, and John, who was also stillborn. The last stillbirth nearly cost Jane her own life as well, as she bled profusely after the delivery of the dead child.

Guilford's eyes were full as tears as he held Jane's hand and watched her life slip away. Jane had seen such tears once before, when she and Guilford had said what they had thought to be their final good-byes to one another on that cold February morning in the Tower.

"Wait for me just inside the gate, dearest. I shan't be long," Guilford whispered.

By some miracle, however, the bleeding slowed and finally stopped, and Jane slept the sleep of the physically and emotionally spent as Guilford, sobbing quietly, tenderly wrapped the tiny body in a piece of cloth and, with a heavy heart, went to dig a third tiny grave beside the other two.

"I am not willing that you should ever be with child again," Guilford told Jane during her slow recovery from the experience. When they resumed marital relations, he refused to ejaculate inside her, instead ending the act prematurely so that none of his seed entered her body.

"Do you not worry that what we do might displease God?" Jane asked him the first time he had done thus.

"My mother gave birth to thirteen children and buried five of them before their first birthday. I don't want you to suffer as she did. Besides, I have just nearly lost you as well. We have five living children who need their mother very much, not even to mention how much I need you. Surely, God will understand."

Jane prayed that he was right, for in truth, the possible consequences of another pregnancy and delivery frightened her nearly as much as they did Guilford.

Tall and slender like her father, and with her mother's dark hair and eyes, Grace Dudley at sixteen was a real beauty. One day she was returning home with a basket of apples when her youngest brother, Ambrose, ran up to meet her.

"May I have one, Grace? Please?"

"No, you may not! Mother is going to make a pie, and besides, at this hour, it will spoil your appetite."

Grinning cheekily at her, Ambrose quickly swiped an apple and took off as fast as he could run in the opposite direction.

"Ambrose Dudley! You come back here right this minute!"

Grace soon discovered the difficulty of running while holding a basket of apples and was forced to take the fruit inside the house before continuing to chase her brother, which of course gave Ambrose a significant head start. Heading in the direction in which she had seen him flee, Grace ran calling his name, soon having to slow to a brisk walk.

The sun changed position in the sky, and Grace became frantic as she realized how much time must have passed. She also noticed with alarm that she was now in London's West End.

Suddenly she heard her own name being called and turned to see Ambrose, still holding the half-eaten apple, perched in a carriage driven by a dark-haired, swarthy man. The man was slightly built, with hair and eyes that were nearly black. He looked southern European, Italian or Greek, perhaps.

"Does this young cherub belong to you?" he asked Grace in a voice that held just a trace of a foreign accent. "I found him in the bed of my carriage. He had cried himself to sleep there."

"He's my brother, sir." She glared at Ambrose, who hastened down from the carriage. "What a naughty boy you've been, stealing an apple and running away!"

"You won't tell, will you, Grace? Please? Father will surely whip me if you do." An icy glare was the only reply he received, although Grace, at the sight of the dried tear stains on her brother's grimy face, secretly hoped that their father would show mercy on the errant youngster.

Grace turned back to the man in the carriage.

"I'm truly sorry, Mr..."

"Bartolomeo Taliaferro, violinist of the Band of Gentlemen Musicians for Her Majesty the Queen, my lady. And you are..."

"Grace DuBois of the Spitalsfield Huguenots, and I do so love violin music!"

"You're perfectly welcome to visit me at court any time you desire, my lady. Tell them Bartolomeo Taliaferro sent you, and you shan't have any problem. Good day, my lady."

"Thank you very much, sir." Heart pounding with excitement, Grace grabbed Ambrose by the hand and practically dragged him home, over loud protests that she was hurting his arm.

Many other young women of Grace's age and station would surely have been intimidated upon their first visit to the royal court. Grace was merely intrigued, looking about with wide eyes and paying careful attention to all of the goings-on.

Grace enjoyed the performance of the Band of Gentlemen Musicians very much, and told them so. Bartolomeo Taliaferro was kind enough to visit with her afterwards, inquiring about the well-being of her family and telling her his own story of having been born in Italy and immigrating to England, about how he had always loved to play the violin and had learned to do so at a very young age.

"Thank you so much for visiting," he told Grace as she prepared to return home. "Come back any time you want." She thanked him and turned to go.

Grace would later come to believe that Providence was to thank for what happened next. A smartly-dressed man with a moustache and goatee arrived at court and nodded hello to Bartolomeo in passing.

"Who is he?" Grace whispered after the man had passed.

"Why, he's Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester and close friend and confidant of Her Majesty the Queen, undoubtedly just now returning from the stables."

For Grace, it was just as if she had been grabbed by the shoulders and shaken roughly. She eagerly studied Robert's face, searching for resemblances to her father's. They were slight but unmistakable.

"Oh! I must meet him!" Grace exclaimed.

Bartolomeo gave her a puzzled look. Grace thought quickly.

"One of the Dudleys immigrated to France many years ago and married into the DuBois family, so we are distantly related to them." Surely God would understand and forgive her for the lie.

"This is Grace DuBois of the Spitalsfield Huguenots. She says that she has family ties to the Dudleys and so wanted to meet you," Bartolomeo told Robert after gaining his attention.

"Family ties, you say. Indeed. Very well, then. My pleasure, my lady." Robert kissed the hand Grace held out to him.

Tears of disappointment stung Grace's eyes as he turned away. Although, she asked herself, what had she expected? Instant recognition? If so, then she had been a fool.

Yet the pleading look in the girl's eyes had indeed given Robert pause. There had also been something about the girl's manner, her poise, that told him that she was no commoner. In addition, there was a vague familiarity about her face that caused Robert to speculate that she may indeed have family ties to him that could be much closer than Bartolomeo had led him to believe.

"My lady..."

Startled, Grace turned to face Robert again.

"Even with your dark hair and eyes, you look more English than French to me."

Grace said nothing, continuing to look at him expectantly.

"You are English, aren't you?"

Grace nodded slowly.

"Who are you, really?"

"I am Grace Dudley, eldest daughter of Guilford and Jane Dudley, sir." Grace's voice was perfectly calm and unwavering.

Robert stared at her in shocked disbelief, then reached to embrace her. Grace hugged him back, tentatively at first, then with more confidence.

"Let me look at you, child. I scarce can believe that you are real."

Grace suddenly felt very shy, a feeling that was almost completely foreign to her.

"Tell me, does my brother yet live?"

"He's alive and well, and would send you his love if he could, sir."

"They were innocents, barely more than children. None of it was their fault." Robert's voice was soft, and his eyes looked a million miles away.

"I was imprisoned with him in the Tower, you know. All four of us were. Our father was executed."

"I know, sir, and I'm so very sorry to have brought back such painful memories to you."

"Oh no, please don't be. I had long ago given up all hope of ever seeing my younger brother again in this life. It never even occurred to me that he may have offspring. How many younger sisters have you?"

"Two, and also two younger brothers. Their names are Temperance, Robert, Katherine, and Ambrose."

"Robert?"

"He was named for you, sir."

Robert looked pleased.

"Ambrose...Katherine...Temperance, even...so, the grandchildren of the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland live in squalor?"

"Oh, no, sir," Grace said quickly. "We are all very well provided for, and want for nothing. Father is a weaver of silk."

Robert looked very sad, and a little angry.

"So, my brother has been weaving silk in the East End for these past seventeen years?"

"Oh, no, sir. We lived in Calais, France until it was safe for us to return to England. My sister Temperance and I were conceived and born in an attic there."

"Indeed." Robert's eyes widened with surprise. "Come, you must tell me all."

Queen Elizabeth I saw the tall, dark-haired beauty on Robert's arm and wondered whether she was a new dalliance. Looking at the girl more closely, Elizabeth realized that she was but sixteen or seventeen years of age at the most, young enough to be Robert's daughter. As she bore a close enough physical resemblance to Robert to easily pass for his daughter, Elizabeth began to wonder whether that was indeed the case. If so, it seemed strange and more than a little hurtful to her that, close as she and Robert had always been, he had never mentioned the fact to her. Sixteen or seventeen years was a long time to keep a secret, especially one of that magnitude. Although, realizing how Robert felt about her, she could easily understand how he would have felt very awkward about bringing up such a subject to her. She wondered who the girl's mother was and felt a pang of jealousy. In some ways, it was so very difficult to be Queen...

Suddenly she wanted to tell him that it was all right, that she certainly understood how such things could happen. After all, her own father, the King, had had a bastard son himself, her half brother Henry Fitzroy.

As it turned out, she never got the chance, nor did it prove necessary, as the young woman was still in Robert's company the next time he approached her. Robert looked happier than Elizabeth had seen him in a very long time. He certainly didn't look like a man about to introduce his bastard daughter to the woman he loved.

"This is Grace Dudley, Your Majesty. She is close blood kin to us both, as she is not only my niece but also your cousin."

"Your Majesty." Grace curtsied deeply.

Realizing the implications of Robert's words, Elizabeth embraced Grace almost as tightly as Robert had.

"My dear little cousin Jane! Does she yet live?"

"She's alive and well, and would send you her love if she could, Your Majesty."

"I was always very fond of her. It broke my heart when I learned what her fate was to be. She was always so devout, so committed to the true faith, willing to lay down her life for its sake, if need be. I admired her so much."

"They now dwell in Spitalsfield." Robert could barely keep the disgust out of his voice.

"Spitalsfield? How on earth did they end up there?"

Grace told her the whole story. When she was finished, Elizabeth looked as if she couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. In the end she did neither. Instead she gently took Grace's hand in both her own and looked earnestly into the girl's eyes.

"My dear child, if there's anything at all that I can do to help..."

"Your Majesty, during my mother's brief reign, she conferred upon my father the title Duke of Clarence. If it please Your Majesty, my father would like to have his title back, and, if it please Your Majesty, my parents would like to be allowed to return to the home that was theirs when first they were married. My mother told me all about it. There were horses, and a stream with a little rowboat, and they were both so very happy together there before...before..."

Grace's throat constricted and she wasn't able to finish the sentence. Immediately, Robert's arms were around her, and he held her as she sobbed.