Later she pretended to be against it while at the same time doing everything she could to bring it about. She had summed up Darnley—not yet twenty years old, very slender so that he looked even taller than he in fact was, a pretty boy with round, rather prominent blue eyes and soft skin as delicately colored as a peach. The effect was charming enough for anyone who liked pretty boys. He had a veneer of pleasant manners, too, but there was something peevish and even cruel about those slack lips. He played the lute well and danced charmingly, and of course he had a flimsy claim to the succession, for his mother was the daughter of Margaret Tudor, Henry VIII's sister.
To compare him with Robert was to call attention to his weakness. I could see that the Queen reveled in the comparison and was as determined as Melville that secretly nothing should be placed in the way of Darnley's going to Scotland while outwardly she would pretend to be against it.
After the ceremony, when she retired to her private apartments, Robert—now Earl of Leicester and on the way to becoming the most powerful man in the kingdom—visited her.
I sat in the women's chambers while everyone talked of the ceremony and how fine the Earl of Leicester had looked and how proud the Queen had been of him. Had we noticed how she tickled his neck? She doted on him so much that she could not hide her love for him at a public ceremony before officials and ambassadors. What must she be like in private?
We giggled together. "It won't be long now," declared someone. Many of them were ready to wager that this was to prepare the way. It would be easier for a queen to marry the Earl of Leicester than it would to have taken Lord Robert Dudley. When Elizabeth had suggested he was a fit bridegroom for a queen, she had not meant Mary of Scotland but Elizabeth of England.
I was alone with her later. She asked me what I had thought of the ceremony, and I replied that it had seemed very impressive.
"The Earl of Leicester looked very handsome, did he not?"
"Exceedingly so, Madam."
"I never saw a more handsome man, did you? Nay, do not answer me that. As a virtuous wife you would not think he compared with Walter Devereux."
She was looking at me sharply and I wondered whether I had betrayed my interest in Robert.
"They are two very admirable men, Your Majesty."
She laughed and gave me a playful pinch. "To be truthful," she said, "there is not a man at Court who can compare with the Earl of Leicester. But you see Walter as his equal and that pleases me. I like not unfaithful wives."
I felt a twinge of uneasiness. But how could she know the effect Robert had on me? I had never betrayed it surely, and he had never glanced my way. Perhaps she thought that all women must desire him.
She went on: "I offered him to the Queen of Scotland. She did not think him worthy of her. She had never seen him or she would have changed her mind. I paid her the greatest compliment I could pay anyone. I offered her the Earl of Leicester, and I will tell you something: If I had not decided to die unmarried and in the virgin state the only man I would have married would have been Robert Dudley."
"I know of Your Majesty's affection for him and his for Your Majesty."
"I have told this to the Scottish Ambassador, and do you know what he replied, Lettice?"
I waited respectfully to hear and she went on: "He said, 'Madam, you need not tell me. I know your stately stomach. You think that if you married you would be but Queen of England and now you are both King and Queen. You will not suffer a commander.' "
"And did Your Majesty agree with him?"
She gave me a little push. "I think you know full well."
"I know," I said, "that I count myself fortunate to be connected by blood with your royalty and to serve such a noble lady.''
She nodded. "There are burdens I must accept," she said. "When I saw him standing there before me today, I could have found it in my heart to throw aside my resolutions."
Our eyes met. Those large pupils were searching lamps which looked into my mind. They made me apprehensive then as they were to so often in the future.
"I should always be guided by my destiny," she said. "We must needs accept it... Robert and I."
I felt that she was warning me in a way and I wondered what had been said of me. My attractions had not been impaired by childbearing; in fact I believe they had been enhanced. I had been aware of men's eyes following me, and I had heard it said that I was a very desirable woman.
"I will show you something," she said, and she rose and went to a drawer. She took from it a small package wrapped in paper and on the outside was written in her handwriting: "My Lord's Picture."
She undid it and there was a miniature. Robert's face looked out at me.
" Tis a very fair likeness," she said. "Think you not so?" "None could think it other than my Lord Leicester." "I showed it to Melville and he thought it a good likeness too. He wished to take it to his mistress, for he felt that once she looked on that face she would never be able to refuse him." She laughed slyly. "I would not allow him to have it. It is the only one I have of him, I told Melville, so I could not spare it. I think he understood."
She had handed it to me and now she snatched it rather sharply. She carefully wrapped it up. It was symbolic of her feelings for him. She would never let him go.
There was no doubt that Robert had believed that, having been so honored by the Queen, the next step would be marriage, and I too believed that this was really what she intended, despite her insistence on her determination to remain in the virgin state. He was very rich now—one of the richest men in England—and he immediately set about improving the castle of Kenilworth. It was only to be expected that he gave himself airs, and he was certainly on very familiar terms with the Queen. Her bedchamber was in some ways a state chamber, and after the custom of ages she had received ministers in it, but Robert continued to enter unannounced and unbidden. Once he snatched the shift from the lady whose duty it was to hand it to her and gave it to her himself; he had been seen to kiss her while she was in bed.
I was reminded of what I had heard of Elizabeth's past with Thomas Seymour when he had made free in her bedchamber; but I was growing more and more convinced that there had been no physical lovemaking between them. Elizabeth was always greatly amused by the titillation of the senses—hers and those of her admirers—and some said this was how she intended her relationships to remain.
There were a great many rumors about her and naturally these strayed far from the truth; but her matrimonial cavortings were the wonder of the world. There could never have been a queen who had been wooed so often and never won; and while this provided the utmost and enjoyable entertainment for the Queen, it was decidedly embarrassing and unflattering for her suitors.
Robert, at the head of these, was beginning to be exasperated. They were both of an age which was no longer young and surely if the Queen was going to get a healthy heir it was time she married.
As a queen she knew the importance of this and yet she dallied. When her hand had been sought by foreign princes it had been thought that she declined them because she wanted Robert Dudley; but now that time was passing and she showed no inclination to marry, all but Robert's most bitter enemies would have preferred to see her married to him since she certainly appeared to be in love with him.
However, she held back, and then people began to wonder if there was some other reason why she refused to marry. It was whispered that there was something about her which was different from other women. She could never bear children, it was hinted and, knowing this, it seemed pointless for her to marry a man merely to let him share her throne. It was whispered that her laundresses had let out the secret that she had so few monthly periods that the implication was that she could not bear children. I was of the opinion though that not one of her laundresses would have dared betray such a secret. It was a mystery, for if ever a woman was in love Elizabeth was in love at that time with Robert Dudley; and the odd thing was that she made no effort to conceal it.