have the means, Elizabeth; you ought to indulge yourself a little. Do you need new clothes? How about entertainers? You are old enough now to put on entertainments and invite some of the local noblemen and their families."
It was 1551. On September seventh I would be eighteen. "I'll put on an entertainment for my birthday," I told him. "Cat Ashley and I will plan it." And so I did. I did not invite anyone from court, which included any of the Dudley brothers, but I did invite some of the local noblemen and their families who had been sending me gifts all along. I hired Master John Hey wood's Troupe of Child Performers, and for music, I engaged Farmor the lutist, More the harper, and Lord Russell's minstrels. And because I wanted to play the lute myself, at my party, I spent seventeen shillings replacing lute strings. The party was a success. Mr. Parry gave me power to take over the books and spend as I wished, and I began to feel more grown up. I gave Cat Ashley money for Holland cloth for new towels. I paid a carpenter to make a walnut table for my study in exactly the shape I wanted. I increased my alms for the poor. And I still rode out with my knights and hunted when the weather allowed. It was a most beautiful fall.
Often, as this morning in October, I thought of Robin when we were out riding. These were the same fields and woods where I'd once ridden with him, where I'd gone hawking with him and watched in admiration as his giant, gold-winged creature came out of the sky to place gentle talons on Robin's padded arm, and stand there preening, its eyes darting about, waiting for praise, a mouse or small rabbit dangling from its beak. Why was the thought of Robin always so much with me? Because I knew he was back at court? What role was he playing in this fight of his father's? I knew he adored his father, would do anything for him. Why didn't he write me since he was back at court? I shook the thoughts away and raised my face to the still-warm October sun and let it bathe me in its blessed peace.
"We should be quail hunting." Richard Vernon's voice brought me back to the present.
"Look, Princess." I looked. A whole bunch of quail were walking in the woods to the side of us.
"Yes, but I don't want to kill anything today," I told him. "Today I want everything to live and be happy." The Vernon brothers and Sir John Chertsey laughed, if somewhat uneasily. They, of course, knew of the beheading of Sir Tom, knew the effect it had had on me, and were likely under Cat's orders to help me mend and heal. About twenty minutes after that, we were all raised out of our lulling mood to see a rider coming down the dusty road to the left of us. The horse, a large bay, turned into the fields and started leaping over fences, frightening some sheep, as if its rider were a madman. My heart seemed to stop for a moment. I saw my knights' hands go to the hilts of their swords as the horse raced toward us. As the rider came close, I shielded the sun from my eyes with my hand so I could recognize him. But I could not. All I saw was the green-and-white colors of my brother's court. Not again! That was all I thought. But I took some comfort in the thought that he was alone and not accompanied by soldiers. He pulled up his horse, which was wild in the eye and did not want to stop. He held the prancing animal still while he swept off his feathered hat and bowed in the saddle. I heard a scraping noise as my knights unsheathed their swords.
"Identify yourself, sir," said Richard Vernon.
"Elizabeth," the rider said, looking down at me. Did I know those brown eyes? For a moment I thought I did. Then James Vernon pushed his horse between mine and the newcomer's.
"Princess Elizabeth," he corrected. "Never mind that," said Richard. "Who are you, sir? What business have you with the Princess?"
A familiar smile broke across the young man's face. "I'm sorry, but I never thought I would present a danger. I've known the Princess since I was three.
It was 1551. On September seventh I would be eighteen. "I'll put on an entertainment for my birthday," I told him. "Cat Ashley and I will plan it." And so I did. I did not invite anyone from court, which included any of the Dudley brothers, but I did invite some of the local noblemen and their families who had been sending me gifts all along. I hired Master John Hey wood's Troupe of Child Performers, and for music, I engaged Farmor the lutist, More the harper, and Lord Russell's minstrels. And because I wanted to play the lute myself, at my party, I spent seventeen shillings replacing lute strings. The party was a success. Mr. Parry gave me power to take over the books and spend as I wished, and I began to feel more grown up. I gave Cat Ashley money for Holland cloth for new towels. I paid a carpenter to make a walnut table for my study in exactly the shape I wanted. I increased my alms for the poor. And I still rode out with my knights and hunted when the weather allowed. It was a most beautiful fall.
Often, as this morning in October, I thought of Robin when we were out riding. These were the same fields and woods where I'd once ridden with him, where I'd gone hawking with him and watched in admiration as his giant, gold-winged creature came out of the sky to place gentle talons on Robin's padded arm, and stand there preening, its eyes darting about, waiting for praise, a mouse or small rabbit dangling from its beak. Why was the thought of Robin always so much with me? Because I knew he was back at court? What role was he playing in this fight of his father's? I knew he adored his father, would do anything for him. Why didn't he write me since he was back at court? I shook the thoughts away and raised my face to the still-warm October sun and let it bathe me in its blessed peace.
"We should be quail hunting." Richard Vernon's voice brought me back to the present.
"Look, Princess." I looked. A whole bunch of quail were walking in the woods to the side of us.
"Yes, but I don't want to kill anything today," I told him. "Today I want everything to live and be happy." The Vernon brothers and Sir John Chertsey laughed, if somewhat uneasily. They, of course, knew of the beheading of Sir Tom, knew the effect it had had on me, and were likely under Cat's orders to help me mend and heal. About twenty minutes after that, we were all raised out of our lulling mood to see a rider coming down the dusty road to the left of us. The horse, a large bay, turned into the fields and started leaping over fences, frightening some sheep, as if its rider were a madman. My heart seemed to stop for a moment. I saw my knights' hands go to the hilts of their swords as the horse raced toward us. As the rider came close, I shielded the sun from my eyes with my hand so I could recognize him. But I could not. All I saw was the green-and-white colors of my brother's court. Not again! That was all I thought. But I took some comfort in the thought that he was alone and not accompanied by soldiers. He pulled up his horse, which was wild in the eye and did not want to stop. He held the prancing animal still while he swept off his feathered hat and bowed in the saddle. I heard a scraping noise as my knights unsheathed their swords.
"Identify yourself, sir," said Richard Vernon.
"Elizabeth," the rider said, looking down at me. Did I know those brown eyes? For a moment I thought I did. Then James Vernon pushed his horse between mine and the newcomer's.
"Princess Elizabeth," he corrected. "Never mind that," said Richard. "Who are you, sir? What business have you with the Princess?"
A familiar smile broke across the young man's face. "I'm sorry, but I never thought I would present a danger. I've known the Princess since I was three.
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