At this time she considered he had taken too much for granted. He had become overbearing since she had bestowed great honors on him, and she wanted to impress on him yet again that it was she who called the tune.

She seated herself and sat smiling at the three men of the moment—Robert, Heneage and Hatton.

One of the pages came in with the Bean on a silver platter and presented it to the Queen. She took it and smiled at the young men ranged about her. Robert was looking at her and was on the point of taking the Bean when the Queen said: "I appoint Sir Thomas Heneage King of the Bean."

It was a tense moment. Sir Thomas, flushed with pleasure, was kneeling before her. Glancing at Robert, I saw his face turn pale and his lips tighten. Then he held his head high and smiled because he knew that everyone would be watching him. Had she not previously delighted to make him her King of the Bean every Twelfth Night since her accession?

There would be gossip. "The Queen has fallen out of love with Leicester," people would say. "She will never marry him now."

I felt almost sorry for Robert, but I was exultant, too—for this was all part of the night's adventure.

Sir Thomas was claiming as his first privilege the right to kiss the Queen's hand. She gave it to him, declaring that no choice was left to her but to obey. But she smiled dotingly on him and I knew she was doing it to anger Robert.

That night I danced with Robert; the pressure of his fingers was firm on mine and the glances we gave each other were full of meaning.

"I have long noticed you at Court," he told me.

"Is that so, my lord?" I answered. "I had been unaware of it, thinking you had only eyes for the Queen."

"It would have been impossible not to see the most beautiful lady of the Court."

"Hush!" I cried mockingly. "You speak treason."

I laughed at him, but as the evening passed he grew ardent. His intentions became so clear that I reminded him that I was a married woman and he as good as a married man. He answered that there were some emotions which were too strong to be denied no matter what bonds attempted to deter them.

Robert was not a witty man; he was not given to flowery language or quick retorts. He was direct, strong, determined and he made no secret of the reason for his pursuit of me. I was not displeased. My ardor matched his, for instinctively I knew that with Robert I could reach a fulfillment I had never attained before. I had been a virgin when I married Walter and thus far had strayed from the paths of marital virtue only in my thoughts. But I wanted this man with a fierceness which matched his desire for me. I could tell myself that he would take me out of pique, but I was determined to prove to him that, having tried me, he would not be able to do without me. I thought of the Queen's louring expression when she quarreled with Robert. I knew too that if she could see and hear me now she would be ready to kill me. That was one of the reasons why I had to go on.

He said that we must meet in secret. I knew what that meant, and I didn't care. I abandoned caution and conscience. I only cared that he should become my lover.

The Queen danced with Christopher Hatton—the best of all dancers. They had the floor to themselves and this was what she loved. When they had finished everyone applauded with great verve and declared that even the Queen had surpassed herself.

Thomas Heneage, King of the Bean, said that as they had seen dancing such as had never before been equaled, he was going to forbid anyone else to take the floor for a while because it would be sacrilege even to tread on that ground where the royal feet had trod.

I smirked inwardly. This fulsome flattery always amazed me. I should have thought that a woman as astute as Elizabeth undoubtedly was would have laughed it to scorn; but she never did and took it as though it were obvious fact.

Instead of dancing, said our King of the Bean, we should have a game called Question and Answer and he would ask the questions and select those who were to answer them.

When a man who has been great is seen to slip a little way, his enemies can scarcely wait to glory over his downfall. They reminded me of crows sitting on a tree by a gallows where a man is dying. Robert had been openly shown to be enjoying less favor than usual, and therefore everyone, it seemed, was eager to humiliate him further. Rarely had a man engendered such envy, for I doubted that any reigning sovereign had ever shown such favor to a subject as the Queen had to Robert Dudley.

It was inevitable that Heneage should have a question for Robert, and the assembly waited breathlessly for it.

"My Lord Leicester," said Heneage, "I command you to ask a question of Her Majesty."

Robert bowed his head and waited for it.

"Which is the more difficult to erase from the mind, an evil opinion created by a wicked informer or jealousy?"

I watched Robert's face, for I was standing near to him. The manner in which he concealed his anger was really rather commendable.

He turned to the Queen. His voice was cool. "Your Majesty hears the command of King Bean, and he being your chosen King of the Night, I can do nothing but obey. So I ask you, in your wisdom, to give us an answer."

When he had repeated the question the Queen looked grave and, smiling affectionately at him, answered: "My lord, I would say that they are both hard to be rid of, but that jealousy is the harder."

Robert was so angry to be publicly held up to ridicule, and the fact that the Queen seemed to have allied herself with Heneage was doubly infuriating.

He did not go to the Queen again that night. When many people were dancing, he took my hand and drew me out of the chamber and away to a small room of which he knew. He pulled me in and shut the door.

"My lord," I said, and I could hear the trill of excitement in my voice, "we must have been seen."

He seized me roughly then. His lips were near my own. "And if they have seen us," he said, "I should not care. I care for nothing ... but this."

He had taken the ruff from my neck and thrown it from him. His hands were on my shoulders, forcing my dress from them.

"My lord, would you have me stand naked before you?" I asked.

"Aye," he cried. "Aye, that I would. So have I seen you many times in my dreams."

I was as eager for him as he was for me and there was no hiding it.

"You are beautiful ... beautiful as I knew you would be," he murmured. "You are all that I want, Lettice... ."

He, too, was all that I had dreamed he would be. It was an experience such as I had never known before. I could not help being aware that on his side it was made up of anger as well as desire, and this infuriated me while at the same time it did nothing to stem my passion. I was determined to show him that never could he know such a mistress as I would be. I was going to make him as reckless as I was. He should be as ready to risk losing the Queen's favor as I was to break my marriage vows.

I think I succeeded temporarily. I sensed the wonder in him, the delight, the knowledge that we two were made for each other.

I knew that he could not tear himself away although it was obvious that he would be missed. I exulted in this; it seemed to me that nature had endowed me with special powers to attract men and bind them to me. And I was born to make love with this man and he with me.

We were enthralled by each other, and I felt that our discovery must be obvious for all to see, and I confess that, when eventually we did return to the ballroom, I began to feel uneasy.

The Queen must have missed Robert. Had she noticed, too, that I had been absent? I should soon discover, I was sure. A cold fear touched me. What if I should be dismissed from Court?

She gave no sign during the days which followed. Robert did not come to Court, and I knew that she missed him. She became very irritable and volunteered the remark that some people imagined they could absent themselves without leave and would have to be taught otherwise.

I was with her when news came that there was trouble between the Earl of Leicester and Sir Thomas Heneage. Leicester had sent word to Heneage that he would visit him with a stick as he had a lesson to administer, to which Heneage replied that he would be welcome and a sword would be awaiting him.

Elizabeth was furious, and there was fear in her fury. She was afraid that Robert would fight a duel and be killed, and she had no intention of allowing her favorite men to behave so foolishly. She sent for Heneage and we heard her shouting at him. Did he think he could defy her? It was dangerous to talk of swordplay, she told him. If he behaved so foolishly again someone else might be talking of an ax.

I think she boxed his ears, for when he came out those appendages looked very red and he was completely subdued.

Then it was Robert's turn. I could not resist listening.

She was very angry with him—more so than with Heneage.

"God's death," she cried, "I have wished you well but my favor is not so locked up in you that others may not have a share of it. I have other servants besides you. Remember there is one mistress here and no master. Those whom I have raised up can as easily be lowered. And this shall happen to those who become impudent through my favor."

I heard him say quietly: "Your Majesty, I beg leave to retire."

"It's yours," she shouted.

And as he came from her chamber he saw me and looked at me. It was an invitation to follow him and as soon as I could I slipped away and found him in that chamber which had previously been the scene of our passion.