But it shall not be so, she promised herself.
She plucked at his sleeve. He turned his smile on her, that facile smile which meant so little.
“My lord, I am afraid I am a dull neighbor. You must forgive me. I have not been long at Court.”
“I can see that you are very young.”
“Perhaps I am older than I seem. I have lived long in the country.”
“Is that so?” He was smiling at the man across the table who was doing his best to attract his attention. He did not care how old she was or whether she had lived in town or country. She meant nothing to him. He was unmoved by the beauty which had been irresistible to the Prince of Wales, and as soon as he left this supper table he would have forgotten her.
He
The violence of her feelings often amazed her. With an impulsive gesture she knocked over a goblet of wine. His puffed, slashed breeches were marked by the wine, and for a moment she had his full attention as she caught the goblet and lifted eyes, wide and frightened, to his. Surely he must now notice how beautiful those eyes were; who else at Court had such long lashes? He must notice. He
He did for a moment. He flicked his breeches with a careless hand.
“It is of no moment,” he said gently. “You must not distress yourself.”
“But I fear I have made you angry.”
“Do I seem so?”
“No, but I understand you to be kind. My great-uncle is glaring at me. He will take me to task for this.”
Robert Carr smiled. “I will be your advocate,” he said.
“Oh, thank you.” She touched his hand and lowered those magnificent eyes so that now he could see their fringed lids. “But I have ruined your clothes.” A pretty white hand touched his thigh.
He patted the hand and for a second kept his over hers.
In that moment, she told herself afterward, the importance of this occasion became known to her, for Frances Howard, Countess of Essex, had fallen irrevocably in love with Robert Carr, Viscount Rochester, and first favorite of the King.
She had seen him on several occasions since, and on all these he had smiled at her somewhat vaguely as though he were trying to remember where he had seen her before.
What could she do? It was not easy to meet Viscount Rochester. Every day men and women waited outside his apartments in the hope of seeing him. He was often with the King, and unapproachable.
She felt listless when she was with the Prince of Wales, and constantly she compared him with Robert Carr. The Prince was a boy, a boy who always seemed a little ashamed when they made love. That was not the way to be a good lover. How different Robert Carr would be if he were in love with her.
If he were in love! But he was not very interested in women. Perhaps he dared not be, for fear of offending the King. At times she knew she was foolish to have set her heart on such a man; but because he was unattainable he seemed all the more desirable.
Jennet quickly learned the state of affairs.
“My lady could try a love potion,” she suggested.
“How could I give him a love potion?”
“There are potions a lady can drink which will make her irresistible to any man.”
“Is it indeed true?”
“We could put it to the test, my lady. Give me leave to visit a friend of mine. I will tell her what is wanted and we will see what happens.”
“Do you really know such a woman?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Where is she?”
“She lives at Hammersmith. Give me leave to visit her and I will put your case before her, without mentioning names of course.”
“There can be no harm in it.”
“Only good, if my friend can make my lady irresistible to a certain gentleman.”
“Go then and try.”
“It will cost money.”
“How much?”
“I must ask. But I think it will cost much money, as you would expect it to, my lady, if it does its work.”
Frances clasped her hands. “I would be willing to pay … a great deal … for my lord Rochester.”
