“Then ’tis just a sickness of the body. I feared it might be an indisposition of the mind that kept you awake at night.”
Sensing her suspicion, he said: “Your Majesty shall know the truth. It is a woman.”
He saw her quick intake of breath and he turned to her with all the passionate fervor of which he was capable. “Knowing that she whom I love lies beneath my roof,” he said, “how could I sleep at night unless she lay with me.”
The Queen whipped her horse and galloped ahead; but he had seen the pleased smile on her face.
“My lord,” she said over her shoulder, “you are offensive. Pray do not ride beside me. I do not wish to scold my host, yet so great is my anger that I fear I shall do so.”
Nevertheless he kept beside her. “Your Majesty … nay … Elizabeth, sweetest Elizabeth as you were to me in the Tower … you have forgotten, but I shall remember till I die. You put too great a strain upon me.”
She spurred on her horse; and she did not speak to him again, but all her good humor was restored; and when the hart was caught alive in a pool, she cried: “Do not kill him. I am in a merciful mood. I will grant him his life, on condition that he loses his ears for a ransom.”
And she herself cut off the poor creature’s ears, and smiling, watched him rush bewildered away with the blood dripping from his head. Then she called out: “Where is mine host? Why is he not beside me?”
Robert came to her and they rode side by side back to Kenilworth.
“I trust, my lord,” she said primly, “that you will not so far forget yourself again. I might not be so lenient if you were to do so.”
“I would not swear it,” he answered. “I am but a man, and perchance must take the consequences of my rash speech.”
And while he complimented her he was thinking of Lettice and the many passionate meetings between them, the delight they found in each other, the sudden surrender of both which would not be checked, the knowledge that nothing on Earth could keep them apart, nor stem the violent passion which they each had for the other.
And if Elizabeth discovered this? He kept thinking of the trapped animal with the haunted look in his eyes as she had stood over him with the knife; he thought of the blood-lust of the huntress which showed in her face; and he thought of the poor creature, running from them. That was the Queen’s mercy.
In the Park a pageant was awaiting her. A tall man, dressed as the god Sylvanus, stood before her and recited a eulogy of her charms. But she was tired of his oration before he reached the end and, turning her horse, rode on. But the young poet, not to be outdone, and determined to serve his master in the praise of Her Majesty, ran beside her horse, declaiming her virtues; and she, with a wry smile, pulled up, for he was clearly suffering from loss of breath.
He bowed before her. “Your Majesty,” he said, “if it is your wish to proceed, pray do so. If my rude speech doth not offend your royal ears, I can run and speak for twenty miles or so. I would rather run as Your Majesty’s footman than be a god on horseback in heaven.”
She rewarded the man with a smile and gracious words, for she liked that tribute better than his verses. “I like,” she said, “that which comes from the heart better than that learned by it.”
But when Sylvanus had finished his speech, he broke the branch he was carrying and threw it from him. Unfortunately it fell near the Queen’s horse, which reared violently.
There was immediate consternation, but the Queen, controlling her horse, cried out: “No hurt! No hurt!” Then she turned to console Sylvanus, who was beside himself with grief.
Robert brought his horse close to the Queen’s. “Your Majesty,” he said, “I pray you let us go into the castle. I feel your precious person will be safer there.”
He was apprehensive as they entered the castle.
It had been an exciting day with the bears. Ban dogs, which had been kept locked away, were suddenly let loose on thirteen of them. The noise, the shrieks, the growls, and the tearing of flesh had set the Queen’s eyes sparkling.
The sun was hot and the Queen and some of her ladies were sitting in the shade of the trees on one of the lawns when a small boy made his way toward them.
He stood still and stared at the Queen. He was such a handsome little boy and the Queen, being fond of all handsome people, including children, called to him: “What is it, my little man? Have you come to see the Queen?”
“Yes,” said the boy.
“Then come closer that the Queen may see you.”
He came, his eyes wide. He laid his hands on her knees and looked up into her face. “You are a beautiful lady,” he said.
Nothing could have delighted her more.
“You are handsome enough yourself,” she answered. “You know who I am. Now tell me who you are.”
“I am Robert,” said the child.
She laughed. “That is my favorite name.”
He smiled and touched one of the aglets on her gown; as he bent his little head to study it she noticed how the dark hair curled about his neck. Involuntarily she put out a hand to touch it.
“What do you here, my child?”
He looked at her in astonishment.
“Who brought you?” she asked.
“My Mamma.”
“And who is your Mamma?”
“My Mamma!” he said with surprise.
“Of a certainty. How foolish of your Queen!” she beckoned to one of her women. “Whose boy is this, do you know?”
“My lady Sheffield’s, Your Majesty.”
The Queen frowned. “Sheffield died some time ago, did he not? I thought it long ago. How old are you, little one?”
“Three.”
Robert, seeing from afar that his son was with the Queen, felt dismayed and angry that this should be so. Who was responsible for this? He hesitated, wondering how much damage had been done, and whether it would be wiser now or later to face anything that had to be faced. He decided to go straight to the Queen and discover the worst.
He quickly realized that this was a mistake for, as soon as the child saw him, he deserted the Queen and running to Robert caught him about the knees and looked up at him with an expression which clearly indicated that this was not their first meeting.
With perfect naturalness Robert picked him up and said: “And what is this, and what do you here?”
The boy laughed and pulled at Robert’s beard.
“The young man seems very familiar with the Earl of Leicester,” said the Queen; and Robert fancied he heard the sharp note of suspicion in her voice.
“Who would not be friends with a boy like this?” he said lightly. He put down the boy and came to kneel before the Queen; he took her hand and asked if his humble entertainment left anything to be desired.
“We are being well entertained,” said Elizabeth with a trace of tartness.
The boy again trotted up.
“Whose son is this?” asked the Queen, looking at Robert.
“Lady Sheffield’s.”
“She is not of the Court now.”
“You remember Sheffield, Your Majesty. He was a friend of mine. His widow, with the boy, her friends and servants, has been resting here at Kenilworth while I was at Court. Then, Your Majesty, they expressed such a desire to see you that I could not turn them away.”
“We do not remember having seen them. Why have they not been presented?”
“Lady Sheffield has been indisposed.”
“I will see her at once.”
“I will myself inform her of Your Majesty’s pleasure.”
“Let a servant go to her and command her to come to me.”
Robert turned in order to see if there was any servant, whom he could trust, within reach. He saw such a man and called to him.