Queen.
‘You said before,
they say
… Are people discussing me and Leicester in the same breath these days?’ she asked quietly, careful not to engage his gaze. ‘Do they gossip about us in the court?’
‘I’m afraid some do, yes,’ he agreed, his voice equally low.
‘And the Queen?’
‘The Queen?’
Raising his eyebrows, Philip glanced at her sideways. At times, she found it hard to remember he was no longer that merry little boy fighting her husband with a wooden sword on the lawns at Chartley, but a grown man of twenty who had served his queen abroad and understood the politics of court life as well as she did.
He fingered his slight beard before answering, as though teasing out the meaning behind her question. ‘I would have thought you were better placed to know such a thing, my lady Essex.’
‘There are circles within circles at court. Not all overlap with those I frequent. But if you were to hear aught—’
‘You would have it straight.’
‘I thank you, Pip.’
He smiled, taking her arm in support as the grassy track began to wind back towards the castle, the climb suddenly very steep. Nearer the walls, they passed a row of low cottages. Dirty-faced children came tumbling noisily over the walls to watch the courtiers pass, peasant labourers kneeling in the doorways to their homes with heads bowed and uncovered for their queen, their silence respectful.
‘You have always been kind to me, my lady,’ Philip pointed out mildly. ‘I may be a young man and far beneath your star, but the least I can do is repay your kindness with a little of my own.’
Gently, she pinched his hand. ‘Beneath my star? What nonsense!’
‘It’s the courtly style. You don’t like it?’
Smiling up at Philip indulgently, she tried to imagine him married to her Penelope. He would make an excellent son-in-law, that was for certain, if a rather tempting one. How fine their children would look, all bright-eyed and dark-haired, dashing about her house. Though she was not quite ready to be a grandmother, she told herself ruefully. There was still plenty of life left in her. Time enough for her to grow staid and placid as a cow in a few more years, perhaps, when Penelope was no longer in the care of her tutor. Then there would be nothing better to do than rock a cradle at home while her daughter danced at court and turned men’s heads as she had done at that age.
‘No, it’s rather that I like it too much. But how stupidly steep this hill is. Why must castles always be built on a hill?’ She paused for breath on the grassy verge, leaning on his arm. ‘Now, young Sidney, don’t dare laugh at me. My shoes pinch horribly and this sun is too bright.’
By the time they reached the castle walls, Elizabeth had dismounted from her horse at the castle gatehouse beside a filthy, hunchbacked old woman to whom she appeared to be talking. Puffed and preened like an exotic bird, the Queen was dressed in silver and white, a thousand tiny pearls stitched painstakingly into the sleeves and rich bodice of her gown, a white-feathered cap set aslant on the riot of her curly red wig. Her careless laughter rang out above the heads of the villagers who had gathered to watch her returning from Mass.
If her older sister Queen Mary had ever visited Kenilworth and gone to hear Mass in the village church, certainly
she
would not have returned laughing so immoderately, dazzling bright in pearls and cloth of silver.
Robert stood apart from Elizabeth, and was holding the reins of her horse while she walked among the commoners. His face revealed nothing but good humour, patient as a rock as he waited for his queen.
Lettice looked at the old woman in her rags. Her lips twitched. Where in God’s name did Robert find these people?
She excused herself from Pip’s company with a quick curtsey and moved gently up behind Robert, her tread silent on the grass. The Moorish singer who appeared to have attached herself like a shadow to him was
‘You said before,
they say
… Are people discussing me and Leicester in the same breath these days?’ she asked quietly, careful not to engage his gaze. ‘Do they gossip about us in the court?’
‘I’m afraid some do, yes,’ he agreed, his voice equally low.
‘And the Queen?’
‘The Queen?’
Raising his eyebrows, Philip glanced at her sideways. At times, she found it hard to remember he was no longer that merry little boy fighting her husband with a wooden sword on the lawns at Chartley, but a grown man of twenty who had served his queen abroad and understood the politics of court life as well as she did.
He fingered his slight beard before answering, as though teasing out the meaning behind her question. ‘I would have thought you were better placed to know such a thing, my lady Essex.’
‘There are circles within circles at court. Not all overlap with those I frequent. But if you were to hear aught—’
‘You would have it straight.’
‘I thank you, Pip.’
He smiled, taking her arm in support as the grassy track began to wind back towards the castle, the climb suddenly very steep. Nearer the walls, they passed a row of low cottages. Dirty-faced children came tumbling noisily over the walls to watch the courtiers pass, peasant labourers kneeling in the doorways to their homes with heads bowed and uncovered for their queen, their silence respectful.
‘You have always been kind to me, my lady,’ Philip pointed out mildly. ‘I may be a young man and far beneath your star, but the least I can do is repay your kindness with a little of my own.’
Gently, she pinched his hand. ‘Beneath my star? What nonsense!’
‘It’s the courtly style. You don’t like it?’
Smiling up at Philip indulgently, she tried to imagine him married to her Penelope. He would make an excellent son-in-law, that was for certain, if a rather tempting one. How fine their children would look, all bright-eyed and dark-haired, dashing about her house. Though she was not quite ready to be a grandmother, she told herself ruefully. There was still plenty of life left in her. Time enough for her to grow staid and placid as a cow in a few more years, perhaps, when Penelope was no longer in the care of her tutor. Then there would be nothing better to do than rock a cradle at home while her daughter danced at court and turned men’s heads as she had done at that age.
‘No, it’s rather that I like it too much. But how stupidly steep this hill is. Why must castles always be built on a hill?’ She paused for breath on the grassy verge, leaning on his arm. ‘Now, young Sidney, don’t dare laugh at me. My shoes pinch horribly and this sun is too bright.’
By the time they reached the castle walls, Elizabeth had dismounted from her horse at the castle gatehouse beside a filthy, hunchbacked old woman to whom she appeared to be talking. Puffed and preened like an exotic bird, the Queen was dressed in silver and white, a thousand tiny pearls stitched painstakingly into the sleeves and rich bodice of her gown, a white-feathered cap set aslant on the riot of her curly red wig. Her careless laughter rang out above the heads of the villagers who had gathered to watch her returning from Mass.
If her older sister Queen Mary had ever visited Kenilworth and gone to hear Mass in the village church, certainly
she
would not have returned laughing so immoderately, dazzling bright in pearls and cloth of silver.
Robert stood apart from Elizabeth, and was holding the reins of her horse while she walked among the commoners. His face revealed nothing but good humour, patient as a rock as he waited for his queen.
Lettice looked at the old woman in her rags. Her lips twitched. Where in God’s name did Robert find these people?
She excused herself from Pip’s company with a quick curtsey and moved gently up behind Robert, her tread silent on the grass. The Moorish singer who appeared to have attached herself like a shadow to him was
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