Then Elizabeth shut herself up with Kat and demanded that the cards be read. Kat declared that the cards told her there was no child in the Queen’s body; there was nothing but the delusions in her head. Elizabeth had commanded that certain astrologers be brought to her; they came in the guise of servants, and much trouble that had caused, the gentlemen eventually being taken and tortured in the Tower, and the Princess herself put into great danger which might have cost her her head but for the calm answers she gave.

The weeks would have been tedious without Kat’s gossip. Elizabeth liked to talk of the Queen’s husband and how his eyes gleamed when they rested on her, and how she was sure that he had wished she were the Queen.

“Mayhap one day,” said the frivolous Kat, “we shall have the King of Spain asking for your hand in marriage.”

“What! Marry my sister’s widower! Never. Remember the trouble my father had through marrying his brother’s widow.”

“Well, the King of Spain is not so handsome as some gentlemen. There is one in particular…. I was thinking of that dark young gentleman who haunts our cards, my lady.”

Then Elizabeth would talk of the days she had spent in the Tower, embellishing her adventures as Kat loved to garnish her stories. It was like putting the flavor into a tansy pudding, Kat always said when caught in an exaggeration; and what would tansy pudding be without its flavor?

Marriages were proposed for the Princess. Philibert’s name came up again. Philip wished her to marry that man. Then there was Prince Eric of Sweden, whose father was eager for the match with his son.

Elizabeth resisted: “Never, never, never! To leave England? Never would I be guilty of such folly.”

“And why should King Philip, being so enamored of your fair person, so passionately wish for your marriage with Philibert?” demanded Kat slyly.

“Stupid Kat! Do you not understand his cunning? Philibert is his vassal. Philip does not know how sick Mary is. He cannot wait for me. He wants me near him—as I should be if I went to Savoy.”

“He seemed such a cold, passionless man.”

“You did not see him when he was with me.”

She always had an answer ready; and if she was often frivolous and coquettish, when danger approached she was as alert as a jungle animal.

But now the dangers were less acute. Even the Queen could no longer believe in her second false pregnancy. Philip, it was said, would never come back to her; and her days were numbered. Never had hopes at Hatfield been as high as they were that summer and autumn.

One day a young man came to Hatfield and asked for an audience of the Princess; and when her attendants asked his name he answered: “Lord Robert Dudley.”

When Elizabeth heard that he had come, her eyes sparkled and she demanded that a mirror at once be brought to her.

“Bid him wait awhile,” she told her women. “Tell him I have some business to attend to before I grant him an interview.”

And the business was to be alone with Kat, for only Kat must see the excitement which possessed her.

“Kat … my emeralds! How do I look?”

“Never more beautiful, Your Grace.”

“I cannot receive him in this gown.”

“Why not?” said Kat artfully. “He is only a lord recently free from the taint of treason.”

“Not treason to me, Kat. And I speak of dresses. Let us have the one with the green thread work. Hurry. He is a most impatient man.”

“As impatient to see you as you are to see him, my lady.”

“I am not so impatient that I cannot pause to change my dress.”

“Now have a care, my lady. Have a care. You are not yet Queen of England, and the man’s an adventurer.”

“I am an adventuress, Kat, and adventurers are the men for me. My coif.”

“You are beautiful, dearest, but ’tis not the emeralds nor the gown nor the coif that make you so. ’Tis the joy bubbling within you. Have a care. Remember Thomas Seymour.”

“I’m older now, Kat. I’m almost a Queen now. And he is not Thomas. Tell them to send him to me.”

He came and knelt before her, keeping her hand in his while he raised his ardent eyes to her face.

She is not Queen yet, thought Kat; but you believe she will be, my lord. Oh, my love, take care. He is too handsome, this man. There is too much fascination there. Even I go weak to contemplate it.

“It is good of you to come to see me, my Lord Robert,” said Elizabeth with cool dignity.

“Good!” His voice had a ringing tone, and all the confidence in the world. “The goodness comes from Your Grace because you have permitted me to wait upon you.”

She laughed. “Many people wait upon me now, Lord Robert. A short while ago they did not come to Hatfield.”

“Might it not be that they stayed away for fear of putting a fair and gracious lady into danger?”

“Or themselves?” she suggested. “But I hear you have recently returned from France, in which land you did splendid service to our country; so we could not accuse you of cowardice, eh?”

“Yet it was fear that kept me from Hatfield ere this—fear of what an impulsive action might mean to one whose safety is of greater account to me than my own. Could I have speech with Your Grace alone?”

“My lord, indeed not! Could I, a young and unmarried woman, be left alone with a man of … forgive me, my lord, but these tales reach us … a man of your reputation with my sex? Kat Ashley will stay. She is my very good servant and friend.”

Robert appeared uneasy. Kat Ashley was not noted for her discretion. But the Queen was on the point of death and Elizabeth was all but on the throne; he need not be too concerned about the gossiping Ashley. Moreover he knew that his lot was cast with the Princess. Her failure would be his; as would her triumph. There comes a time in the life of an ambitious man when he must openly show which side he is on. But if only he could be alone with her, what weapons would be his! How far might he not go at one meeting! Did she know this? Was she, the young woman who had faced Gardiner and his like with calm courage, afraid of Robert Dudley’s potent charm?

He said almost sullenly: “It seems my fate never to be near Your Grace.”

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.”