Read Online The Mad Courtesan by Edward Marston - Free Book Online Page A

came to the throne, Whitehall was firmly established as the seat of government and it was here that she so often presided over her court.
    Attendance at court was the social obligation of the aristocracy and the distant hope of lesser mortals. It was the setting in which the Virgin Queen lived out her public and private lives. The court was the centre of affairs, thesource of patronage, and the regular avenue to profit and promotion. Those who wished to rise in the world or simply maintain the eminence they had already achieved were duty-bound to make regular appearances at court and participate in its sophisticated games and rituals. It was an expensive commitment since courtiers were expected to dress finely at all times and to spend long hours gambling and gossiping in the corridors of power but it was a charge that could not be shirked. To be out of court was to be out of favour and so the nobility flocked to Whitehall to show due respect, to mingle with their peers and to gain advancement.
    The Queen set high standards for her courtiers. She valued intelligence in a man, ability to sing songs to a lute, skill in the composition of lyric poetry and prowess in the tiltyard. Her favourites tended to be those of all-round excellence. Like her father, she wanted her court to be a cultural centre where music, drama, poetry and the dance could flourish. To this end, she allowed the Great Hall to be used on many occasions for music recitals and the performance of plays. Those few enlightened souls who retained their own theatrical companies were thus looked upon with special favour. It made Lord Westfield’s visits to court a source of continual pleasure.
    ‘What is the new piece called, my lord?’
    ‘
Love’s Sacrifice.
’
    ‘We have all made
that
in our time.’
    ‘And will hope to do so again.’
    Polite outrage. ‘My lord!’
    ‘I will never be too old to admire a trim shape and a fair countenance, nor yet too wasted to desire a closer acquaintance with such an angel.’
    Lord Westfield’s entourage laughed obediently. He was a portly man of cheerful disposition who devoted himself to the promotion of the arts and the pursuit of pleasure. Excess intruded upon his style of life and choice of apparel. As he led his little group of sycophants towards the Presence Chamber at Whitehall, he was wearing a slashed doublet of aquamarine hue above bombasted trunk hose in a lighter shade. A white ruff supported the amiable bearded face and the long grey hair was hidden beneath a dark-blue hat that was a forest of light-blue feathers. Rings, jewels and a gleaming sword added to the ostentation. A golden chain that let its medallion rest on his sternum completed the dazzling effect. Lord Westfield liked to catch the eye. It was one of the ways he tried to assert his superiority over the loathed Earl of Banbury.
    ‘Who comes here?’ he said. ‘Stand aside, friends.’
    ‘The Earl is much moved.’
    ‘I did not think his legs could scurry so fast.’
    ‘What can this mean, my lord?’
    ‘My prayers would have him expelled from court but this sudden departure may betoken something else.’
    ‘Will you speak to him?’
    ‘Only with a naked blade.’
    Muted sniggers from the entourage before they offered perfunctory bows to the approaching Earl of Banbury. With his own cronies in attendance, the latter was making ahasty and not altogether dignified exit from Whitehall. He threw a glance of hostility at his rival as they passed, then curled a lip in amusement. Lord Westfield’s ire was aroused at once. The Earl knew something that he did not and he was rushing off to act upon his intelligence in order to seize the advantage. Only a matter of the gravest significance could send the noble gentleman away from Whitehall at such a canter and Lord Westfield was desperate to know what it was. He did not have long to wait. Other figures came streaming down the corridor in busy conference and he pounced on one of them without