She pointed to Darnley and said, imitating the Scottish accent: “Yet you like better yon lang lad.”
He was sly, that man. He did not know how much she had learned of his secret plotting. He whispered, thinking to please her: “No woman of spirit, Your Majesty, would make choice of such a man—for although he is very lusty, so I have heard, he is beardless and has the face of a lady.”
The Queen signified that she was well pleased with this answer, and her eyes went back with admiration to the newly made Earl.
Later at the banquet to celebrate the occasion she kept the Scot beside her.
She reminded him of the great affection she had for Mary.
“To no other would I offer Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester. You must tell your mistress that in so doing I offer her the greatest compliment I could offer any. I am giving her the man I would have married myself were I not determined to live and die in the virgin state.”
“Madam,” he said, “ye need not to tell me that, for I know your stately stomach. You think that if you married you would be but Queen of England, and now you are both King and Queen. You will not suffer a commander.”
She looked at him shrewdly. He was no fool, this dour Scotsman.
Very soon after Robert was made Earl of Leicester, the Archduke Charles, having been rejected by Mary, began again to sue for Elizabeth’s hand. Catherine de’ Medici was trying to get the Queen for her son, King Charles; and failing him, for his brother, the Duke of Anjou.
Elizabeth meanwhile feigned to consider these suggestions with rapt attention. She allowed Darnley, against the advice of Cecil and her Council, to leave for Scotland.
It seemed that as soon as the Queen of Scots saw the beardless boy with the lady’s face, she fell in love with him and decided to dispense with the consent of the Queen of England. She married him.
It was not until after the ceremony that Elizabeth heard of the marriage.
She received the information calmly, and laughed merrily over it with the newly-made Earl of Leicester.
SEVEN
It was now eight years since Elizabeth had become Queen, and still she was unmarried, and still Robert continued to urge their union; but he was less hopeful than he had been.
He was now in his thirties—a little less handsome but not less attractive to women; and if the Queen could not make up her mind whether she would marry him or not, there were many ladies who would not have hesitated for a minute if he had offered himself to them.
He was one of the richest men in England now; he was the most powerful. But he had paid for these honors, and Robert was beginning to think that he had paid dearly.
He had always been attracted by children; the little boy who had served him so nobly during his imprisonment was no exceptional case. Children’s eyes followed him; they liked his magnificence, his great stature, his handsome face. His manner toward them was all that children desired it to be; he treated them with an easy nonchalance; he made them feel, not that he was stooping to their level, but that miraculously he had lifted them to his.
He now began to examine his dissatisfaction. He believed that above all things he had wished for marriage with the Queen; perhaps he still did. But he also felt a great desire to have children—sons—and they must be legitimate; yet what chance had he of getting legitimate sons while he must go on awaiting the Queen’s pleasure? Naturally he would prefer his first-born to be heir to the throne; but had Elizabeth decided to wait until they were too old to have children?
He had heard the words of the Scottish ambassador: “Madam, I know your stately stomach. You would be King and Queen.”
There was truth in those words, and it might well be that she, who would tolerate none equal with herself, had secretly made up her mind never to marry.
He had not, of course, been faithful to the Queen; but his love-affairs had had to be secret. He could never so much as look for long at any one of the Court beauties, for if the Queen’s jealous eyes did not detect a Court peccadillo, her spies would; and they were everywhere. He had powerful enemies who were hoping for his overthrow; Cecil was one of them, and since he had been made Earl of Leicester and Cecil had received no similar honor, the Queen’s chief minister must certainly be envious. Norfolk, Sussex, Arundel—those most powerful men—were only a few of his enemies. He knew that they were secretly working against his marriage with the Queen, and that the friendship they feigned to express was merely a sign that they feared Elizabeth might one day marry him. He suspected that Cecil had put into Elizabeth’s head the idea of marrying him to Mary Stuart, and although he had come well out of that matter as the Earl of Leicester, he could not help feeling that he had been exposed to a certain amount of ridicule.
Such thoughts as these were in his mind when he first noticed Lettice.
Lettice was one of the Queen’s ladies, and in appearance not unlike the Queen herself, for she was the daughter of Sir Francis Knollys, a cousin of Elizabeth’s.
The Queen had greatly favored Sir Francis and a good match had been made for his daughter Lettice with Lord Hereford.
Although Lettice bore a family likeness to the Queen, all who were impartial would agree that Lady Hereford had real beauty; indeed she was secretly voted the most beautiful lady of the Court. The perfect oval of her face was enhanced by her ruff; her hair was not red as was the Queen’s, but yellow-gold; her large eyes were brown, her features clear-cut, her teeth white, and she was tall and most graceful.
She was a bold woman and by no means afraid of provoking a situation which, if it came to the Queen’s knowledge, might end in disaster for herself and Robert. For her, the moment’s enjoyment was all-important. She was married to a man whom she did not love, and she was by no means displeased when she saw the eyes of Robert Dudley on herself. William Devereux, Lord Hereford, was some years younger than Robert and he seemed callow and dull when compared with the Queen’s favorite—the man who was acknowledged to be the most handsome and desirable at Court.
It seemed natural to Lettice that she and Robert should fall in love, and she proceeded to give him that encouragement which made him ready to put aside caution.
They met daily in the presence of others, but that was good enough for neither. Notes were exchanged; he must see her in private.
Could they meet in the pond garden? A meeting by night was arranged. A full moon shone that night on Hampton Court Palace.
This was recklessness. Robert knew it. But he was tired of waiting for the Queen’s decision; he was tired of village girls. He was even wondering what the Queen’s reaction would be if he told her he had decided to marry Lettice Knollys. It was true that Lettice had a husband, but husbands and wives could be dismissed in special circumstances. There was divorce. But he remembered Amy and the trouble she had caused. He had no real intention of marrying anyone but the Queen. Who knew, if he told her of his affection for Lettice. Elizabeth might realize that she was putting too great a strain upon him and, since he was sure she would never allow him to marry anyone else, marry him herself?
His thoughts were a little incoherent, but he was safe with a married woman; and why should he not enjoy a love affair which might bring him closer to marriage with the Queen?
Was this recklessness after all? Or was it sound good sense?
He went down to the pond garden to wait.
But Lettice did not come.
Nor came the storm for which Robert waited, for he knew that Elizabeth had discovered his philandering.
Elizabeth was not merely a jealous woman; she did not forget that she was also the Queen. The affair had not surprised her and she was not so displeased as Robert imagined her to be. The death of Amy had taught her a good deal. Love of power was in future to be the big brother in charge of her wayward affections; they should march together.