"In time," Philip said, "my uncle decided to go to Italy for his horsemen. They had not such high ideas of what they were worth as the French. In any case, there is little any man alive can teach my uncle about horses."

"Is the Queen going to marry your uncle?" asked Penelope.

There was a brief silence while Philip looked at me. I said: "Whoever told you she might?"

"Oh, my lady," said Dorothy reproachfully, "everybody is talking about them."

"There will always be gossip about people in high places. The best thing is to shut one's ears to it."

"I thought we were to learn all we could and never shut our ears and eyes to anything," insisted Penelope.

"Ears and eyes should be open to the truth," said Philip.

Then he started to talk again about his adventures in foreign places, and as usual he fascinated them.

Later I saw him in the gardens with Penelope, and noted afresh how they seemed to like each other's company in spite of the fact that he was a young man of twenty-one or two and she but a girl of thirteen.

On the day of the Queen's expected arrival, I was on the lookout. As soon as the cavalcade was sighted—and there would be scouts who would give me some warning—I must ride out with a little party to welcome her to Chartley.

I received the warning in good time. I was dressed in a very fine coat of mulberry-colored velvet and a hat of the same shade with a cream-colored feather which curled down at one side. I knew that I looked beautiful, not only because of my elegant well-chosen clothes but because of the faint color in my cheeks and the sparkle in my eyes which the prospect of seeing Robert had put there. I had dressed my fair hair simply with a love lock falling over my shoulder—a fashion from the French which I much fancied because it called attention to the natural beauty of my hair, which was one of my greatest assets. This would contrast with the Queen's frizzed, puffed style which had to be augmented by false hair. I promised myself I must look far younger and much more beautiful in spite of her splendor—and that should not be difficult because I was.

I met them halfway from the castle. He was riding beside her and in the brief time since I had seen him I had miscalculated that overwhelming magnetism which swept away every desire I had except to be alone with him and make love.

His Italian style doublet in which rubies had been set, his jornet about his shoulders of the same deep red wine color, his hat with the white feather—all these were of matchless elegance; and I scarcely noticed the glittering figure at his side who was smiling benevolently at me.

"Welcome to Chartley, Your Majesty," I said. "I'm afraid you will find it somewhat humble after Kenilworth, but we shall do our best to entertain you in a manner which I fear cannot be worthy of you."

"Come, Cousin," she said, riding beside me. "You look in good spirits, does she not, my Lord Leicester?"

My Lord Leicester's eyes met mine, earnestly pleading, conveying one word: "When?"

He said: "Lady Essex does indeed look in good health."

"The entertainments at Kenilworth were such as to excite us all and revive our youth," I replied.

The Queen frowned. She did not want it to be said that her youth needed reviving. She must be seen as the perpetually youthful. It was about such matters as this that she was pettishly foolish. I could never understand that trait in her character. But I was sure she thought that if she behaved as though she were perpetually young and the most beautiful woman in the world—kept so by some divine alchemy—everyone would believe it.

I could see that I must be careful, but being in Robert's company went to my head like strong wine and I felt reckless.

We rode at the head of the cavalcade—Robert on one side of her, I on the other. In a way it seemed symbolic.

She asked about the countryside and the state of the land, and showed a rare knowledge and interest; she was gracious and declared that the castle was a fine sight with its towers and keep.

Her apartment satisfied her. It should have, for it was the best in the castle and the bedchamber which Walter and I occupied when he was at home. The bed hangings had been shaken and repaired where necessary and the rushes on the floor gave off the fragrance of sweet-smelling herbs.

She seemed well pleased and the food was excellent, the servants all being excited by her presence and eager to please and humor her. She treated them with her usual grace and had them ready to grovel if need be in her service; the musicians played her favorite tunes and I had made sure that the ale was not too strong for her taste.

She danced with Robert, and as the hostess it was fitting for me to take the floor with him—but briefly, of course. The Queen would not have him dance for long with anyone but herself.

The pressure of his fingers on my hand was full of meaning.

"I must see you alone," he said, turning his head and smiling at the Queen as he did so.

I answered, with a blank expression, that I had much to say to him.

"You must have someplace here where we could be alone to talk."

"There is a room in one of the two round towers. We scarcely use that tower now. It is the west one."

"I will be there ... at midnight."

"Take care, my lord," I mocked. "You will be watched."

"I am accustomed to it."

"So many are interested in you. You are as talked of as the Queen herself ... and so often your names are linked in the same snippet of gossip."

"Nevertheless I must see you."

He had to return to the Queen, who was tapping her foot impatiently. She wanted to dance, and with him, of course.

I could scarcely wait until midnight. I took off my gown and wrapped myself in a robe of lace and ribbons. I had much to say to him, but I did not think it would be possible to be alone with him without our passion overcoming all other needs. I wanted to be seductive as poor Douglass could rarely have been and Elizabeth never. I knew I had that in my power; it was my strength as the Queen's crown was hers. I had quickly ascertained that Douglass was not of the party and must have gone home to her son—hers and Robert's.

He was waiting for me. As soon as I entered I was in his arms and he was attempting to strip off the gown beneath which I was naked.

But I was determined that first we should speak.

He said: "Lettice, I am mad with my need for you."

"Methinks, my lord, it is not the first time you have been maddened by your need of a woman," I replied. "I have made the acquaintance of your wife."

"My wife! I have no wife now."

"I did not mean the one who died in Cumnor Place. That's past history. I mean Douglass Sheffield."

"She has been talking to you!"

"Indeed she has, and telling me an interesting tale. You married her."

"That's a lie."

"Is it so? She did not seem to lie. She has a ring you gave her ... a ring which was to be given only to your wife. More important than a ring—she has a son—little Robert Dudley. Robert, you are sly. I wonder what Her Majesty will say when she hears."

He was silent for a few seconds, and my heart sank, for I desperately wanted him to tell me that Douglass's story was untrue.

He seemed to come to the conclusion that I knew too much for him to protest, for he said: "I have a son, yes—a son by Douglass Sheffield."

"So all she says was true?"

"I did not marry her. We met at the Rutlands' place and she became my mistress. Good God, Lettice, what am I supposed to do! I am kept dangling... ."

"By the Queen, who does not know whether she wants you or not."

"She wants me," he replied. "Have you not noticed?"

"She wants you in attendance—together with Heneage, Hatton and any handsome man. The point is does she want to marry you?"

"As her subject I have to be ready to obey her if she wishes me to."

"She'll never marry you, Robert Dudley. How can she when you are already married to Douglass Sheffield?"

"I swear I am not. I am not such a fool as to do that which would finish me with the Queen."

"If we were discovered here tonight that might finish you with the Queen."

"I am ready to risk that to be with you."

"As you were ready to risk marrying Douglass Sheffield to be with her?"

"I did not marry her, I tell you."

"She says you did. You have a child."

"He would not be the first to be born out of wedlock."

"What of her husband? Is it true that he threatened to divorce her on account of her liaison with you?"

"Nonsense!" he cried.

"I heard that a letter you wrote to her was discovered by him and that he had the evidence he needed to put you in a very uncomfortable position with the Queen. And he died just as he was about to do this."

"Good God, Lettice! Are you suggesting that I had him removed!"

"The whole Court found it strange that he should die so suddenly ... and at such an opportune moment."

"Why should I want him dead?"

"Perhaps because he was going to disclose your relationship with his wife."

"It was not important. It was not as you have been led to believe."

"The Queen might have thought it important."

"She would have seen it for the trivial matter it was. Nay, I did not want Sheffield dead. It was better for him to be alive from my point of view."

"I see you have the same sentiments for Lord Sheffield as you have for the Earl of Essex. If you wish to make love to a woman, it is more convenient for her to be someone else's wife than a widow. Otherwise she might begin to think of marriage."