“Careful,” Burghley murmured as he passed by Matthew, camouflaging his admonishment with regular thumps of his staff. “You called for me, Your Majesty?”
“Spirit and Shadow in the same place. Tell me, Raleigh, does that not violate some dark principle of philosophy?” the queen’s companion drawled out. His friends pointed at Lord Burghley and Matthew and laughed.
“If you had gone to Oxford and not Cambridge, Essex, you would know the answer and be spared the ignominy of having to ask.” Raleigh casually shifted his weight and placed his hand conveniently near the hilt of his sword.
“Now, Robin,” the queen said with an indulgent pat on his elbow. “You know that I do not like it when others use my pet names. Lord Burghley and Master Roydon will forgive you for doing so this time.”
“I take it the lady is your wife, Roydon.” The Earl of Essex turned his brown eyes on me. “We did not know you were wed.”
“Who is this ‘we’？” the queen retorted, giving him a smack this time. “It is no business of yours, my Lord Essex.”
“At least Matt isn’t afraid to be seen around town with her.” Walter stroked his chin. “You’re recently married, too, my lord. Where is your wife on this fine winter’s day?” Here we go, I thought as Walter and Essex jockeyed for position.
“Lady Essex is on Hart Street, in her mother’s house, with the earl’s newborn heir at her side,” Matthew replied on Essex’s behalf. “Congratulations, my lord. When I called on the countess, she told me he was to be named after you.”
“Yes. Robert was baptized yesterday,” Essex said stiffly. He looked a bit alarmed at the thought that Matthew had been around his wife and child.
“He was, my lord.” Matthew gave the earl a truly terrifying smile. “Strange. I did not see you at the ceremony.”
“Enough squabbling!” Elizabeth shouted, angry that the conversation was no longer under her control. She tapped her long fingers on the upholstered arm of her chair. “I gave neither of you permission to wed. You are both ungrateful, grasping wretches. Bring the girl to me.”
Nervous, I smoothed my skirts and took Matthew’s arm. The dozen steps between the queen and me seemed to stretch on to infinity. When at last I reached her side, Walter looked sharply at the floor. I sank into a curtsy and remained there.
“She has manners at least,” Elizabeth conceded. “Raise her up.”
When I met her eyes, I learned that the queen was extremely nearsighted. Even though I was no more than three feet from her, she squinted as though she couldn’t make out my features.
“Hmph,” Elizabeth pronounced when her inspection was through. “Her face is coarse.”
“If you think so, then it is fortunate that you are not wed to her,” Matthew said shortly.
Elizabeth peered at me some more. “There is ink on her fingers.”
I hid the offending digits behind my borrowed fan. The stains from the oak-gall ink were impossible to remove.
“And what fortune am I paying you, Shadow, that your wife can afford such a fan?” Elizabeth’s voice had turned petulant.
“If we are going to discuss Crown finances, perhaps the others might take their leave,” Lord Burghley suggested.
“Oh, very well,” Elizabeth said crossly. “You shall stay, William, and Walter, too.”
“And me,” Essex said.
“Not you, Robin. You must see to the banquet. I wish to be entertained this evening. I am tired of sermonizing and history lessons, as though I were a schoolgirl. No more tales of King John or adventures of a lovelorn shepherdess pining for her shepherd. I want Symons to tumble. If there must be a play, let it be the one with the necromancer and the brass head that divines the future.” Elizabeth rapped her knuckles on the table. “‘Time is, time was, time is past.’ I do love that line.”
Matthew and I exchanged looks.
“I believe the play is called Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, Your Majesty,” a young woman whispered into her mistress’s ear.
“That’s the one, Bess. See to it, Robin, and you shall sit by me.” The queen was quite an actress herself. She could go from furious to petulant to wheedling without missing a beat.
Somewhat mollified, the Earl of Essex withdrew, but not before shooting Walter a withering stare. Everyone flurried after him. Essex was now the most important person in their proximity, and, like moths to a flame, the other courtiers were eager to share his light. Only Henry seemed reluctant to depart, but he was given no choice. The door closed firmly behind them.