But those were happy days when I could gather my family around me and we could sit at the fireside and talk together. They recompensed me in many ways for the loss of my life at Court and the company of my husband who was often there.
Being content with the children I had, I did not want the inconvenience of bearing more. I reckoned I was too old for that. Childbirth would be an ordeal for me now and I had had my share of it.
I did remember how eager I had once been to have a child by Robert. Fate had given us our little angel, our "Noble Impe"; but with him had come great anxiety and sorrow. I should never forget his death and those nights I had spent at his bedside after one of his fits. And now he was gone, but while I mourned his loss deeply, a great anxiety was lifted from me. There was compensation in knowing that my little darling was suffering no more. Sometimes I would ask myself whether his death had been a punishment for my sins. I wondered whether Leicester felt the same.
No, I did not want more children and this might be a sign that I was falling out of love with Robert.
When I was at Leicester House, where I liked best to be because of its closeness to the Court—so near and yet so far for those excluded from it—I saw more of Robert because it was easier for him to slip away for brief periods. But we could not be together for more than a few days before the Queen's messenger would arrive to demand his return to Court.
On one occasion he came to me rather preoccupied. After his protestations of eternal fidelity to me and that consummation of our passion which I fancied he tried to endow with the eagerness we had both known when we had snatched our secret meetings, I realized what had brought him this day.
It was a man named Walter Raleigh who was causing him some disquiet.
I had heard of him, of course. His name was on everyone's lips.
Penelope had met him and said he was undoubtedly handsome and possessed of great charm; the Queen had quickly brought him into her intimate circle. He had leaped into prominence, the story went, one wet day when the Queen was returning to the palace on foot and had paused before a muddy stretch of ground over which she had to cross. Raleigh had taken off his elaborate plush cloak and spread it over the dirty ground that she might walk on it. I could picture the scene: the graceful gesture, the expensive cloak, the glitter in those tawny eyes as she noticed the handsome looks of the young man; the speculation in those of the adventurer who no doubt counted the cost of an elaborate cloak well lost for the sake of rich benefits to come.
It had not been long after that incident that Raleigh was at the Queen's side, delighting her with his wit, his compliments, his adoration, and his accounts of past adventures. She had grown very fond of him and had knighted him that very year.
Penelope told me that at one of the palaces—Greenwich, I think—when he was in the company of the Queen, he had tested her affection for him by scratching on a windowpane with a diamond the words:
Fain would I climb
Yet fear I to fall.
as though asking her to assure him that he would have nothing to fear by trying to rise in her favor.
Characteristically she took the diamond from him and beneath his couplet scratched the words:
If thy heart fails thee
Climb not at all.
which was in a way stressing the fact that her favors must be sought at all times and that no one should believe he would be favored without merit.
Robert had believed, after he had been taken back into favor, that his position was secure. So it was, I was certain; whatever he did she would never forget the bond between them. At the same time he was anxious that no young man should rise too high in her favor, and it appeared that this was exactly what Raleigh was doing. It was galling to Robert to see a younger man constantly beside the Queen; ever present was the fear that someone younger would replace him in her favor. She knew this, of course, and loved to tease him. I was sure that she showed Raleigh more favor when Robert was near than she ever did in his absence.
"Raleigh is giving himself airs," he told me. "Soon he will be thinking himself the most important man at Court."
"He is very good-looking," I replied slyly. "He has the qualities, it seems, which appeal to Her Majesty."
"True enough, but he is inexperienced, and I will not have him giving himself such airs."
"How will you stop him?"
Robert was thoughtful. Then he said: "It is time for young Essex to come to Court."
"He is happy enough in Llanfydd."
"He cannot spend his life there. How old is he now?"
"He is but seventeen."
"Old enough to begin making a way for himself. He has great charm and should do well at Court."
"Don't forget that he is my son."
"That's one of the reasons why I wish to bring him to Court, my dearest. I want to do everything I can for him ... because I know how fond you are of him."
"He is a son to be proud of," I said fondly.
"Would he were mine! But the next best thing is that he is yours. Let him come here. I promise you I will do everything possible for his advancement."
I looked at him shrewdly. I understood the way in which his mind worked. It was true that Leicester liked to advance members of his family, for it had always been a policy of his to put what he called "his own men" in high places.
"But the fact that Rob is my son is enough to make our Vixen chase him out of Court."
"I don't think she will ... when she sees him. In any case it's worth a try."
I laughed. "You seem greatly put out by Raleigh."
"He is of little moment," he said abruptly. "I think young Essex will amuse the Queen."
I shrugged my shoulders. "I will ask my son to come to me, and then perhaps if your mistress will allow you to leave her for a short time, you can meet him here and assess him."
Robert said he would be delighted to see my son, and I could rest assured that he would do all in his power to bring him forward at Court.
When Robert had gone I continued to think about it. I pictured his presenting my son to the Queen. "My stepson, the Earl of Essex, Your Majesty."
Those tawny eyes would be alert. Her son! The She-Wolf's cub! What chance would he have? It was true he had been born before I had fallen from favor, before she knew of her darling Robin's passion for me. But she would never accept my son.
Of course he was extraordinarily handsome; he had a unique charm; he was the kind of young man the Queen liked to have about her—except for one thing: he would never flatter her.
It would be amusing to see what effect he had on her. I would do what Leicester wanted and attempt to persuade him to go to Court and see what happened.
How often have I wished that I had the gift of prophecy. If I could but have seen into the future! If I could have glimpsed the anguish to come—then I should never have allowed my darling to go to her.
But her life and mine were linked by some tragic caprice of fate. We were doomed to fix our love on the same object—and what bitter suffering that was to cause me! And I do not believe that she escaped unscathed.
"Raleigh?" said Penelope. "He is a dashing fellow. Tom Perrot was talking of him when I spent a few days with him and Dorothy on my way here. Tom says he is quick-tempered. An ill-chosen word directed against him can plunge him into violent rage. Tom himself had a fracas with him, and they both landed up in the Fleet and spent six days there before their release was brought about. He said that a short while after, Raleigh was in the Marshalsea following a fight on the tennis court with someone named Wingfield. He's an adventurer. He's like the Queen's darling, Francis Drake. You know how she loves such men."