The Murder in the Tower: The Story of Frances, Countess of Essex

“You are right in that,” Anne sighed. “What do you wish me to do?”

“Present him to the King. Tell him that you ask this favor of him, which is a knighthood for George Villiers and a place in the Bedchamber.”

“There was a place in the Bedchamber.”

“Gone to Somerset’s nephew, Your Majesty. Soon there will be no post at Court which is not occupied by one of Somerset’s men.”

“Well,” said Anne, “I think you are right in that.” She hesitated. “I will do as you wish,” she went on, “and I shall ask Prince Charles to give me his support.”

This was victory. The King was longing to give honors to Villiers; and if the Queen asked a favor how could he refuse her—particularly when it was one which it would please him so much to bestow?

It was St. George’s Day and outside the King’s bedchamber George Villiers waited with his patrons. With James were the Queen and Prince Charles and it was known that the Queen was going to ask a favor of her husband.

At last the summons for Villiers to enter the bedchamber was given and the young man went in.

Robert who had heard a rumor of what was about to happen could not believe it until he came to the door of the King’s bedchamber and saw a group of his enemies there—among them the excited young man on whom he knew they had fixed their hopes. He was in time to hear the summons and see the handsome youth walk into the bedchamber, and an impulse came to him to push them aside, to stride into the bedchamber, to upbraid the King before them all; but he remembered James’s words when he had not very long ago awakened him at what the King called an unseasonable hour. James had warned him then.

But how could he stand by and see this young man made a Gentleman of the Bedchamber when he had shown the King so clearly that he resented the office being given.

He curbed his anger. Frances would have spurred him on, but she was not with him now; and when he had to make his own decisions he was never as fiery as she would have him be.

He wrote a hasty message to the King, asking James to make Villiers a Groom of the Bedchamber instead of a Gentleman, if he must grant the Queen’s favor and give the young man some office.

Haughtily he called a page and bade him take the message to the King.

James received it, read it and thought sadly: Will he never learn his lesson?

He then knighted George Villiers and appointed him one of the Gentlemen of the Bedchamber.

That ambitious man, Sir George Villiers, had no wish to quarrel with the Earl of Somerset who still held the highest offices in the Kingdom. George Villiers knew that he had a long way to go before he was as powerful. If he could make a truce with Somerset, let him know that he had not thought of attempting to step into his place, he was sure he would more quickly climb in the King’s favor.

He therefore sought an interview with Somerset. When he heard who was asking to see him Robert was angry, with the most violent of all anger—that born of fear.

The fellow must be sure of himself, since he asked an audience of him. Who did he think he was? Did he imagine that because he was a Gentleman of the Bedchamber he could become on friendly terms with the most important ministers?

Villiers came to him, his handsome face wearing an expression of humility.

“My lord,” he said, “it is good of you to grant me this interview. I come to ask that I may serve you in whatever way you choose for me so to do. I have always wanted to take my preferment under your favor. I offer myself to you as your most humble servant.”

Robert’s anger was suddenly uncontrollable, because he saw himself in this young man, as he had been in those early days when the King had become so enchanted by his grace and beauty. It was a cruel thing to be asked to witness oneself on the decline, the new star about to rise.

“Get you gone from my presence,” he said, his mouth tight, his eyes smoldering. “You shall enjoy no friendship or favor from me. One thing I will give you—and that is sound advice. Listen, fellow. Attempt to come creeping to me again and I’ll break your neck.”

“So this is how you keep your promises to me?” stormed Robert.

“My promises to you?” answered James. “What mean you? What did I promise and not give you?”

“You have taken that young fool into the Bedchamber.”

“I am the King. I select my own Gentleman, you should know.”

“Gentleman! And who is this gentleman?”

“If you refer to Sir George Villiers, I’d say he was as good a gentleman as Robert Carr was when he first came to Court.”

“I asked you, if you must favor him, to make him a Groom.”

James was stern. “I wished to make him a Gentleman, and must I remind you again that I am the King?”

But Robert could not curb his anger. He was worried about Frances. He was beginning to feel that he was married to a woman whom he did not know. He was losing his hold on the King. His whole world had become insecure; and he was alarmed, though he did not entirely know why. He needed the advice of shrewd men; but those who had advised and befriended him were dead. Northampton! Overbury!