But of course there were whispers.

There was one time when I was so ill that I thought I was about to die. Robert came openly to see me then, and I think that lifted my spirits to such an extent that I started to get well. He really did love me; it was not just that excessive physical excitement that he sought; he really cared for me. He was tender; he knelt by my bed and begged me to get well and he talked all the time of the life he and I would have together. I never saw a man more sure of anything.

And then Walter returned.

His mission in Ireland had been a failure, and the Queen was not very pleased with him. I was still weak and his concern for me disconcerted me while my conscience troubled me a good deal. I told him that I had been ill of a fever and would soon recover. The manner in which he accepted my word made me feel ashamed, particularly as he had aged considerably and seemed tired and listless. I had behaved so badly to him and had had nothing but kindness in return, yet I must keep comparing him with the incomparable Robert Dudley.

I had to face the fact that I was tired of Walter and I was irritated and frustrated because now that he had come home my meetings with Robert would be difficult to arrange, if they could occur at all. In any case after my recent experiences I should have to be more cautious in the future. I mourned the loss of the child and used to dream it was a little boy who looked like Robert. In the dream he would look at me sadly as though accusing me of robbing him of life.

I knew Robert would say: "We'll have more. Only let us marry and we shall have both sons and daughters to delight our old age." But that was small comfort at this time.

Walter declared his intention of never traveling again.

"I've had enough of it," he told me. "Nothing will ever come out of Ireland. From henceforth I shall stay at home. I shall live an untroubled life. We shall go back to Chartley."

Inwardly I decided we should not. I would not be buried in the country away from the delights of the town, the intrigues of the Court and the magic of Robert Dudley. Separation from him only enhanced my desire, and I knew that when we did meet I would be as reckless as ever—in spite of my conscience—living for the moment and meeting the consequences when the time came.

I grew stronger and felt capable of leading Walter where I wanted him to go.

"Chartley is inviting," I lied, "but have you noticed that our daughters are growing up?"

"Indeed I have. How old is Penelope?"

"You must remember the age of your daughter—and your firstborn at that. Penelope is fourteen."

"Over young for marriage."

"But not too young for us to find a suitable parti for her. I should like to see her well contracted."

Walter acceded that I was right.

"I have a particular fancy for Philip Sidney," I said. "He was with us when I entertained the Queen at Chartley and he and Penelope developed a liking for each other. It's a good thing when a girl knows her future husband before she is hustled into marriage with him."

Once more Walter agreed and said that Philip Sidney would be an excellent choice.

"As Leicester's nephew he would find some favor with the Queen," he commented. "She dotes on Dudley as much as she ever did, I understand."

"He is still in high favor."

"There is a consideration, though. If the Queen married some foreign prince, I doubt Leicester would be tolerated at Court, and then his relations would not be so comfortably placed."

"Do you think she will ever marry?"

"Her ministers are trying to persuade her. The lack of an heir to the throne becomes a more and more pressing problem. If she died there would be dissension, and that's never good. She should give the country an heir."

"She's a little old for childbearing, though none is allowed to say so within earshot of Her Majesty."

"She might just manage it."

I laughed aloud, suddenly wildly pleased because I was eight years younger than she.

"What's amusing?" asked Walter.

"You are. You'd be in the Tower for treason if she could hear you."

Oh, what a bore he was and how tired of him I was!

There were only snatched conversations with Robert.

"This is unendurable," he told me.

"I cannot escape from Walter, nor can you come to Durham House."

"I'll manage it somehow."

"My dear Robert, you can scarcely share our bed. Even Walter would then be aware that something unusual was afoot."

Frustrated as I was, I was exultant to see how Robert fretted against the situation.

"Well, Robert," I said, "you are a magician. I await the magic."

Something had to be done soon after that because I suppose what was again inevitable happened. Someone—I never found out who—had whispered to Walter that Robert Dudley had been taking an undue interest in his wife.

Walter refused to believe it—not of Robert but of me. What a simpleton he was! I could have managed him, but Robert had some pernicious enemies whose motive was not so much to make trouble for the Essex family as to wrest from Robert his favor with the Queen.

Then there was that night when Walter came into our bedchamber, his face very serious. "I have heard the most wicked accusations," he said.

My heart started to beat fast, so guilty was I, but I managed to ask calmly: "What about?"

"About you and Leicester."

My eyes were wide open and I hoped looked innocent. "What can you mean, Walter?"

"I heard that you are his mistress."

"Whoever could have said such a thing?"

"I was only told after my promise to keep the informant's identity a secret."

"And you believe this secret informer?"

"I don't believe it of you, Lettice, but Dudley's reputation is far from savory."

"Even so you could hardly believe it of him if you didn't believe it of me." You fool! I thought to myself, and I decided that attack was the best form of defense. "And I must say that I take an ill view of your tattling about your wife to people in dark corners."

"I didn't really believe it of you, Lettice. It must be someone else he has been seen with."

"You suspected me, of course," I accused, whipping myself to anger. It was most effective. I had my poor Walter almost begging for pardon.

"Not truly so, but I did want you to tell me yourself how false it all was. I shall call out the man who dared mention it."

"Walter," I said, "you know this to be false. I know it to be false. If you make a great noise about it, it will come to the Queen's ears and she would blame you. You know how she will hear no ill of Robert Dudley."

He was silent, but I could see that my remarks had struck home.

"I'm sorry for any woman who becomes involved with him," he said.

"So should I be," I retorted meaningfully.

But I was worried. I had to see Robert to tell him what had happened. It was difficult for me. I had to seek an opportunity, and as Robert was always attempting to do the same, we did manage at last to have a few words together.

"This is driving me mad," said Robert.

I replied: "Here is something to drive you madder." And I told him.

"Someone must have talked," said Robert. "They will be saying now that your recent illness was due to ridding yourself of a child you had by me."

"Who could have done this?"

"My dear Lettice, we are watched and spied on by those we trust the most."

"If this gets to Walter's ear ..." I began.

Robert put in wryly: "If it got to the Queen's we should then have good cause to worry."

"What can we do?"

"Leave it to me. You and I are going to marry. Rest assured of that. But there will be work to be done first."

I understood how hard he was working to bring this about when a summons came from the Queen for Walter to attend on her without delay. When he returned to Durham House I was eagerly awaiting him.

"Well, what happened?" I asked.

"It's madness," he retorted. "She does not understand. She has ordered me back to Ireland."

I tried not to show my relief. This was undoubtedly Robert's work.

"She is offering me the post of Earl Marshal of Ireland."

"That is a great honor, Walter."

"She expects me to think so. I tried to explain the position to her."

"And what did she say?"

"She waved me aside." He paused and looked at me searchingly. "Leicester was with her. He kept saying how important Ireland was, and how I was the man to become Earl Marshal. I think he has done a great deal to persuade the Queen."

I was silent, pretending to be perplexed.

"Oh yes. Leicester said what a great opportunity it was to retrieve my failure. They wouldn't listen to me when I tried to explain that they did not understand the Irish."

"And ... the outcome?"

"The Queen made it clear that she expects me to go. I don't think you will like it out there, Lettice."

I had to go carefully now so I said: "Oh well, Walter, we must make the best of it."

That satisfied him. He was still doubtful about Leicester, and although Walter's code made him accept the word of his wife, I could see that the suspicions were still there.

I pretended to make some preparations to go to Ireland, although, of course, I had no intention of going at all.

The following day, I said to him: "Walter, I'm very worried about Penelope."

"Why so?" he asked surprised.

"I know she is young, but she is mature for her age. I fancy that she is not very discreet in her friendships with the opposite sex. Dorothy worries me too and I found Walter in tears and young Robert looking very glum trying to comfort him. Robert said he was going to ask the Queen not to let me go to Ireland. I shall be so worried about them if I go away."