She liked such sullenness. It was manna to her. He was comparing Kat with the prison bars. Elizabeth felt dizzy with pleasure. Yes, she must keep herself aloof until she grew accustomed to such intoxication.
“You forget my position, my Lord Robert,” she said, taking refuge from her feelings behind her royalty. “Now tell me why you have come to see me.”
He lifted hurt and angry eyes to her face. “Your Grace must have known that I would present myself at the earliest possible moment.”
“Is this the earliest possible moment? How should I know that?”
“I had believed there was a deep and lasting friendship between myself and Your Grace.”
“Ah yes. We have both suffered, have we not? Come, cheer up, my lord. I know you for my friend.”
“I have brought proof of that friendship.”
He laid two bags at her feet.
“What are these, my lord?”
“Gold. You say I may speak freely. Well, I will do so. Many, you say, come to pay you homage. Since the Queen has grown so sick, the roads to Hatfield are becoming congested. Dear lady, if the Queen should recover, the roads back to London will become even more congested, and if aught should go wrong Hatfield might again become a lonely prison.”
“Aught go wrong?”
“It is a dangerous world in which we live.”
“You know of plots against me?”
“I know of no plots. Do you think that any would confide them to me … the most staunch supporter Your Majesty … Your Grace ever had!”
“My lord!”
“Aye,” he cried, “I have made that clear, have I not?”
He had risen and taken a step toward her. The impetuous man! she thought with tender emotion.
But her eyes flashed. Do not forget, they said, that I am about to be your Queen. But a caressing smile accompanied the warning.
“I trust you, Lord Robert,” she said. “What are these bags you bring me?”
“They are full of gold. I bring them as a token. More awaits you … if you should need it. I have sold lands and will sell more. The end of a reign is not always followed by peaceful succession. I wish Your Grace to know that if you should need me … in any capacity … I am yours to command. My recently restored fortune I place at your feet. These bags are but a symbol. These arms are yours, this heart, this body, this man.”
She was deeply affected. She held out her hand for him to kiss, but he did not take it. He muttered: “Your Grace, I cannot. You are so beautiful … I could not trust myself …”
These words pleased her as much as the bags of gold. She was not only a Princess about to become a Queen, he was telling her; she was the most desirable woman, who could make him forget all else because he loved her so madly.
“Go now,” she said softly. “We shall meet again.”
He knelt before her; he did not touch her; and as he rose he said: “When Your Grace is Queen of England I shall be the first to come to pay you homage and to offer myself in your service. I swear it.”
When he had gone, Kat picked up the bags.
“He has bewitched you,” she said.
“I know, Kat. And might it not be that I have bewitched him?”
“Bewitching is second nature to him.”
“Mayhap it is to me.”
“It is easier to be sick of love for a Queen than for a gentleman of fortune. Do not forget, when your hour comes, that you have other friends. Remember William Cecil who has served you well all these years at your sister’s Court, writing to you, advising you.”
“Why should I forget William Cecil? Have I not said that he is my very good friend?”
“Nay, you have not! But he does not possess a pair of flashing black eyes that look at you as though they would devour you. He does not tell you that your beauty goes to his head, that he dares not touch your hand for fear of seducing you here and now in front of your good servant, Kat Ashley.”
“Shame on you, Kat! Did Lord Robert say any such thing?”
“He did, my lady.”
“Then I did not hear it.”
“But you saw … and I saw … as he meant it to be seen. He is an adventurer.”
“Well, what should I want—a sit-by-the-fire? A dwarf? A pockmarked ninny?”
“So you want this man?”
“You are dismissed, Kat Ashley. I’ll have no more of your insolence.”
“You have my love, and love such as mine is indifferent to the anger it may cause. It seeks to serve even if the serving sometimes gives displeasure.”
Then Elizabeth turned and embraced Kat. “I know it, Kat. I know it. But don’t provoke me.” She smiled. “So he looked at me as though he would devour me? I confess ’twas so. But as long as he but looks, what matters it? Have no fear, Kat; I shall not allow myself to be devoured. Let us take a look at the cards. Let us see what they have to tell us of our tall dark man now.”
“Beware of him! That is what they will say.”
“I? Beware? Let him beware of me!”
“No, my lady, it is you who are a-tremble. Have a care. He is no ordinary man.”
“There you speak truth,” said Elizabeth beginning to laugh in anticipation of a passionate friendship. “He is indeed no ordinary man.”
November came. The house at Hatfield was the scene of much activity. The Princess had become more haughty; she was regal yet gay, arrogant and more quick-tempered than ever.
The Count of Feria called upon her, and this caused fresh excitement, for all were aware what this meant.
Feria, on behalf of his master, Philip of Spain, had come to ingratiate himself with Elizabeth.
The Count bowed low—lower, Elizabeth was quick to notice, than he had on their last meeting. Such behavior made her want to laugh aloud. She thought: So your master will give his support to me whom he suspects of heresy, rather than allow his old enemy the King of France to put Mary of Scotland on the English throne.
It was good to know that she was to receive the support of mighty Philip, and to know that whatever she did would not alter that. She could be cold to Feria, if she wished; or she could be warm, and neither attitude would alter his master’s decision. She was the lesser of two evils as far as Spain was concerned, and so she would continue to be.
“I am honored, my lord Count,” she told him, “that you should lighten my humble house with your presence.”
“It is I who am honored,” said the solemn Spaniard.
Elizabeth looked at him appraisingly and wondered what had made Jane Dormer fall in love with him. He was handsome in his way—but a Spaniard! Give her a good hearty Englishman. Always her thoughts returned to Robert Dudley.
She bade Feria sup with her.
“It gives me great pleasure to know that you come to assure me of your master’s friendship,” she told him as they sat at table.
“It has always been my master’s endeavor to show friendship to Your Grace,” he answered. “You know that the Queen is very sick indeed?”
“I have heard it.”
“Your Grace, this is a momentous time for you,” went on Feria. “You will be named as the Queen’s successor. That is the wish of my master. You know of his influence with the Queen, and it is due to him that this will come to pass.”
The light sandy brows shot up; the tilt of the head was haughty in the extreme. “Your master is my very good friend, I doubt not,” she said, “but I cannot see that he—or any—can give me that which is mine by right of inheritance. None has any power of bestowing on me that which is my right; nor can I, with justice, be deprived of it.”
“It is the custom in England that a monarch shall name his or her successor, is it not?”
“It is the custom in England, my lord, that the succession goes to the next of kin.”
“There were some difficulties with regard to the marriage of Your Grace’s father and mother.”