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Authors: TASHA ALEXANDER
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himself to the task of playing matchmaker. His focus was obviously deliberate, and Walsingham knew there was little chance he’d learn anything further about the religious implications of William’s studies unless he turned to covert methods of information gathering.
Luckily, the covert was his specialty.
Chapter 5
The Presence Chamber was packed more tightly than usual, none of the courtiers wanting to miss the newest suitor, Archduke Charles of Austria, vying for the queen’s hand in marriage. Gossips claimed he could be the last, not because she would fall in love with him—no one expected that—but because she had reached an age at which she would no longer be able to bear children. No children meant no heir, and the lack of an heir would leave England in a precarious position. But the queen had always scoffed at issues of succession. God, she insisted, would take care of the matter, but the courtiers were skeptical. Not that any of them would dare admit that to her. Silence fell across the room as Elizabeth entered.
Stunning and terrifying, sumptuously gowned in the finest cream-colored velvet encrusted in jewels, she kept her ladies close to her while Walsingham stayed discreetly in the background. A tall, stiff collar fashioned from starched lace rose from the bodice of her dress as amethysts and canary diamonds set in gold draped her neck and hung from her ears. Her hands, covered with rings, rested unmoving on the arms of her throne as she sat, her entire person radiating regal grace as a shy, slight, shaking sixteen-year-old stepped forward to make a formal declaration of love.
It was difficult not to be bored in these situations. Early in her reign, Elizabeth had been amused—vaguely—by proposals of marriage and the suits of foreign princes. Her feelings on marriage had always been ambiguous at best, and her suitors were rarely appealing. She did not need a husband to gain a throne, did not want a man to guide her rule. Taking a spouse would degrade her power and having a child might kill her. Frankly, it seemed a bad business in which she stood to lose everything dear to her while gaining nothing.
Except love, of course. She might gain love, and that was the only thing that might entice her to marry. Not ordinary love, though: it would have to be passionate, enduring, consuming, and never compromise her role as queen. Was there a man alive capable of giving such a thing? She was skeptical even as she hoped. Not even her darling, darling Robert had succeeded in giving her all she needed, and she could not even imagine a man better than he.
Despite his faults.
There were always faults.
Today, however, she had no concern for love. She had to pay attention to the boy in front of her, and a quick glance to the side of the room brought a smile to the royal lips. The Austrian ambassador was quietly mouthing the words to him as he spoke. She felt a stab of sympathy and focused on the awkward speech.
“Your Majesty’s beauty is dazzling to my eyes,” Charles von Habsburg said, voice unsteady, tension evident on his not-unattractive, youthful face. “I see before me perfection in human form. I am overwhelmed. I am conquered. I die. Only your love, great Elizabeth, can restore me to life.”
The courtiers who filled the room with their brightly colored finery smiled, keeping their laughter silent. Not so thoughtful were the members of the Spanish delegation, who made no effort to hide their sneers. But the queen maintained her composure, looking at the boy with serious eyes, sympathizing with his nerves, knowing full well that it was not a simple thing to have to tend in public to business that ought to be entirely personal. When he had finished his speech, she gave him her hand to kiss.
“Your Highness does me great honor. Shall we go to dinner? It should prove almost as restorative as my love.” She slipped her arm through his and together they led the court through the mazelike corridors of
Luckily, the covert was his specialty.
Chapter 5
The Presence Chamber was packed more tightly than usual, none of the courtiers wanting to miss the newest suitor, Archduke Charles of Austria, vying for the queen’s hand in marriage. Gossips claimed he could be the last, not because she would fall in love with him—no one expected that—but because she had reached an age at which she would no longer be able to bear children. No children meant no heir, and the lack of an heir would leave England in a precarious position. But the queen had always scoffed at issues of succession. God, she insisted, would take care of the matter, but the courtiers were skeptical. Not that any of them would dare admit that to her. Silence fell across the room as Elizabeth entered.
Stunning and terrifying, sumptuously gowned in the finest cream-colored velvet encrusted in jewels, she kept her ladies close to her while Walsingham stayed discreetly in the background. A tall, stiff collar fashioned from starched lace rose from the bodice of her dress as amethysts and canary diamonds set in gold draped her neck and hung from her ears. Her hands, covered with rings, rested unmoving on the arms of her throne as she sat, her entire person radiating regal grace as a shy, slight, shaking sixteen-year-old stepped forward to make a formal declaration of love.
It was difficult not to be bored in these situations. Early in her reign, Elizabeth had been amused—vaguely—by proposals of marriage and the suits of foreign princes. Her feelings on marriage had always been ambiguous at best, and her suitors were rarely appealing. She did not need a husband to gain a throne, did not want a man to guide her rule. Taking a spouse would degrade her power and having a child might kill her. Frankly, it seemed a bad business in which she stood to lose everything dear to her while gaining nothing.
Except love, of course. She might gain love, and that was the only thing that might entice her to marry. Not ordinary love, though: it would have to be passionate, enduring, consuming, and never compromise her role as queen. Was there a man alive capable of giving such a thing? She was skeptical even as she hoped. Not even her darling, darling Robert had succeeded in giving her all she needed, and she could not even imagine a man better than he.
Despite his faults.
There were always faults.
Today, however, she had no concern for love. She had to pay attention to the boy in front of her, and a quick glance to the side of the room brought a smile to the royal lips. The Austrian ambassador was quietly mouthing the words to him as he spoke. She felt a stab of sympathy and focused on the awkward speech.
“Your Majesty’s beauty is dazzling to my eyes,” Charles von Habsburg said, voice unsteady, tension evident on his not-unattractive, youthful face. “I see before me perfection in human form. I am overwhelmed. I am conquered. I die. Only your love, great Elizabeth, can restore me to life.”
The courtiers who filled the room with their brightly colored finery smiled, keeping their laughter silent. Not so thoughtful were the members of the Spanish delegation, who made no effort to hide their sneers. But the queen maintained her composure, looking at the boy with serious eyes, sympathizing with his nerves, knowing full well that it was not a simple thing to have to tend in public to business that ought to be entirely personal. When he had finished his speech, she gave him her hand to kiss.
“Your Highness does me great honor. Shall we go to dinner? It should prove almost as restorative as my love.” She slipped her arm through his and together they led the court through the mazelike corridors of
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