Simier offered no answer to that, for naturally he did not want it reported that he had uttered treason against his King.
"Is the young Duc d'Anjou eager for this match?" asked the Queen.
"He has sworn to win Your Majesty," was the answer.
"It is not easy to marry a man whom one has not seen," she said.
Simier replied eagerly: "Madam, if you will but sign his passport, he will lose no time in coming to you."
Now her true feelings began to emerge, for there was always some excuse why the passport should not be signed.
Robert was amused.
"She will never make the French marriage," he said.
"If she doesn't, what will she do when she hears about us?" I asked.
"It will make no difference. She cannot expect me to remain unmarried any more than she intends not to marry herself."
She made it clear that she liked to have Simier dance attendance on her; she wanted to receive charming letters from her suitor; she declared herself longing for a glimpse of him, but the passport remained unsigned.
Catherine de' Medici, the prospective bridegroom's mother, was clearly getting restive. Wily as Elizabeth herself, she would realize that this matrimonial adventure was going the way of all the others; and there was no doubt that the Queen of England was a glittering prize for her young son, who had only distinguished himself by being exceptionally undistinguished.
Catherine de' Medici and the King of France sent a secret letter to Robert which he showed me, and in which they suggested that when the Duc d'Anjou came to England, Robert should be his adviser and help to show him the ways of the country; they were most eager to impress on him that the marriage would in no way endanger his position.
Robert was amused and gratified because it meant that his power was realized even in France.
"She will never take Anjou," he said. "I hear he is an ugly little creature."
"And she has always had such a fancy for handsome men," I added.
" Tis true," replied Robert. "Her interest is immediately aroused by a handsome face. I am warning her to keep playing along with the French, and you see she has not granted him his passport, as I have advised her."
"What does she say when you are alone with her?" I asked. "How does she explain this coquettish attitude towards the French Prince?"
"Oh, she has always been the same. When I criticize him, she tells me I am jealous, and that pleases her, of course."
"I have always wondered how she, who is so clever, can so successfully play the fool."
"Never be deceived by her, Lettice. Sometimes I think that everything she does has some ulterior motive. She keeps peace between England and France while she pretends there will be an alliance. I have seen her do it again and again. She believes firmly in peace, and who can say she is not right? England has prospered since she came to the throne."
"At least if you confessed to her now she could not be angry."
"Could she not! Her rage would be terrible."
"But why—since she herself is contemplating marriage with this French Prince?"
"Never ask her why. She would be furious. She may marry, but not I. I am to be her devoted slave all the days of my life."
"She is going to discover her mistake sooner or later."
"I tremble to think of it."
"You tremble! You have always been able to manage her."
"I have never had to face her with such an event before."
I slipped my arm through his. "You'll do it, Robert," I said. "Just bring out that charm which none of us can resist."
But perhaps he did not understand the Queen as well as he thought he did.
It was impossible to keep my marriage secret from my daughters.
Penelope was vivacious and so much like me in looks that the relationship was immediately obvious to observers, except that many of them declared—and as I don't believe in false modesty, I will say they were right—that we looked like sisters. Dorothy was quieter but attractive in her own way; and they were both of an age when they were interested in what was going on around them, particularly if it involved a man.
The Earl of Leicester was a frequent visitor to the house and as they were aware of his secret comings and goings they found this intriguing.
When Penelope asked me if I was having a love affair with the Earl of Leicester, I told her the truth, which I thought was the best answer.
The girls were both excited and delighted.
"But he is the most fascinating man at Court!" cried Penelope.
"Well, why should that prevent his marrying me?"
"I have heard it said there is not a lady at Court to rival you for beauty," said Dorothy.
"Perhaps they said that to you knowing you were my daughter."
"Oh no. It is so. You look so young in spite of being the mother of us all. And after all, if you are rather old, so is the Earl of Leicester."
I laughed but protested: "I am not old, Dorothy. Age is determined by one's spirit and mine is as young as yours. I have made up my mind never to grow old."
"I shall do the same," Penelope assured me. "But, Mother, do tell us about our stepfather."
"What is there to tell you? He is the most fascinating man in the world, as you know. I have been determined to marry him for some time. Now I have done so."
Dorothy looked a little anxious. Rumors evidently reached the schoolroom nowadays, I thought, and wondered uneasily if they had heard of the Douglass Sheffield scandal.
"It's a perfectly legal marriage," I said. "Your grandfather was present. That speaks for itself."
Dorothy looked relieved, and I drew her to me and kissed her on the cheek.
"Never fear, dear child. All will be well. Robert has talked to me a great deal about you girls. He is going to make brilliant marriages for you."
They listened with shining eyes while I explained that their stepfather's position was such that the highest families in the land would be honored to be allied with his.
"And you, my daughters, are now related to him, because he has become your stepfather. Now you are going to start to live. But you must remember that, just as yet, our marriage is a secret."
"Oh yes," cried Penelope. "The Queen loves him and couldn't bear him to marry anyone else."
"That's true," I agreed. "So remember it, and not a word."
The girls nodded vigorously, clearly delighted with the situation.
I was wondering whether we should pursue the proposed match between Robert's nephew, Philip Sidney, and Penelope, which Walter and I had thought might be advantageous, but before I had time to broach this matter with Robert I received a message from him to say that he had left Court for Wanstead and he wanted me to join him there without delay.
The journey was only six miles so I set out immediately wondering what had made him leave Court so abruptly.
When I arrived at Wanstead he was waiting for me in a state of anger. He told me that in spite of his advice the Queen had granted Simier the passport he had been clamoring for.
"This means that Anjou will now come here," he said.
"But she has never seen any of her suitors before ... except Philip of Spain, if he could be called one, and he never came wooing her."
"I cannot understand it. All I know is that she is deliberately flouting me. I have told her again and again what folly it is to bring him here. When she sends him back it will create bad feeling in France. While she pretends to consider and coquettes by letter, it is a different matter—though dangerous as I have repeatedly told her. But to bring him here ... that's madness."
"What has made her do this?"
"She seems to have lost her senses. The thought of marriage has had this effect on her before, but she has never yet gone so far."
I knew what Robert was thinking, and he may have been right. He was the man she loved, and if she had an inkling that he had married someone else she would indeed be furious. That outburst of hers about not demeaning herself by marrying a servant whom she had raised up could well have been the outward sign of an inner wound. She wanted Robert to herself exclusively. She herself could flirt and frolic, but he should know that it was never serious. He was the one. Now Robert was wondering whether she had heard rumors concerning us, because it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep our secret.