in the Low Countries.”
“A year seems an age to an exile.”
“Exile no longer. Do you still write excellent poetry?”
“I write poetry, though whether it be excellent or not, as the author it is not for me to say. But I’ll tell you this: Ben Jonson has told me that he admires my work, and since I admire his, that is a compliment.”
“The Queen insists that Ben Jonson be called when she wants poetry for a pageant.”
“He’s a rare fellow—Ben Jonson.”
“Not too rare, I trust, Tom. I mean I hope there are others who admire your work.”
“I am writing some sketches which I’m calling Characters. I’ll show them to you. I think they will amuse you.”
“You will be famous one day, Tom. I am sure of it. You have a great gift. You need a patron … someone who will help you make the best of your talents.”
“A patron? Who?”
“Tom, you have seen me rising. I shall go much farther. Those who come with me will rise too.”
“What are you suggesting, Robert?”
“I need a secretary—someone who has a gift for words, hard work, and who is shrewd and loyal. I know you well and I know that you possess these gifts. Tom, throw in your lot with mine. I am traveling upwards … you can come with me.”
Overbury stared at his friend. He was fond of Robert. He trusted him. Attach himself to the brightest star at Court, the petted boy who only had to whisper his desires in the King’s ear for them to be readily granted?
He was an ambitious man but he had never thought such an opportunity possible.
The dance went on; the Queen was among the dancers, while the King sat looking on with Robert Carr beside him.
The Prince of Wales was dancing with one of the River Nymphs; he had noticed her in the ballet and thought her by far the most beautiful of them all. He was surprised at his interest, for girls had not greatly attracted him until now. This girl was different. She was so vital, so young; her lovely eyes which seemed determined to miss nothing betrayed her innocence; he was sure this was her first visit to Court.
Their hands touched.
“I liked the dance of the nymphs,” he told her.
“I noticed how you watched.”
“Did you? You seemed so intent on the dance.”
“It was all in honor of the Prince of Wales and I was so anxious to please him.”
“Will it give you pleasure if I tell you that you did?”
“The greatest pleasure.”
“Then it’s true.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“I fancy I have seen you before at Court, and yet this is your first appearance here. I find that strange. It seems as though …”
“As though we were meant to meet, Your Highness.”
“Just so.”
“I am surprised that Your Highness noticed me. There are so many girls….”
“I suppose so, but I have never noticed them before. I hope you will be often at Court.”
“I intend to be there whenever I can.”
“We must arrange it. I shall hold my own Court at Oatlands or Nonesuch, and perhaps Hampton or Richmond. You must come there.”
“Your Highness, how that would delight me!”
He put her hand to his lips and kissed it. Several people noticed the gesture for there would always be some to watch the Prince of Wales and comment on his actions.
“Tell me your name,” he said.
“It is Frances.”
“Frances,” he repeated tenderly.
“Countess of Essex,” she went on.
He looked startled. “Now I remember where I saw you before.”
She smiled. “It was at my wedding.”
