The courtiers continued to watch him with speculative eyes. They were beginning to look at him in the way they regarded those whose days they believed to be numbered.
What is wrong with me? he asked himself. He was getting old, he supposed. He was thirty; he longed for excitement; and he was so reckless that he cared little how he obtained it.
He looked about him for fresh mischief, and his interview with his sister gave him an idea.
SURREY LOST NO TIME. He dressed himself with the utmost care. Sparkling with jewels, haughty in the extreme, he called on Lady Hertford.
Hertford’s wife, who had been Anne Stanhope, was known throughout the court as one of its proudest and most ambitious women. She shared her husband’s ideals and ambitions; she was cold and avaricious. She was waiting with impatience for the day when she should be the first lady in the land. She was determined to gain that status, promising herself that when her husband was Protector of England she would take precedence over every other lady, and if any dared attempt to place themselves before her she would persuade her husband to make arrangements for their removal.
She was greatly surprised to hear that the Earl of Surrey had called to see her.
He bowed low over her hand and looked at her most humbly. She was a very conceited woman, so it gave her great pleasure to see the heir of the most noble house in the country bowing so graciously before her.
“Lady Hertford, I have something of great importance to say to you,” said the incorrigible Earl, “and it is for your ears alone.”
She dismissed her attendants; and as he watched them go, the Earl smiled insolently.
“Lady Hertford,” he said, “you are a fair and gracious woman, and it pleases me to see you occupying such a position in the land.”
“Thank you, my lord Earl,” she said. “But what is this matter of which you would speak to me?”
“I have long watched you, Lady Hertford.”
“You have watched me?”
“With great admiration; and that admiration has grown so strong that I have come to the conclusion that there will be no peace for me until I have revealed it to you.”
She began to regard him suspiciously.
He had come toward her, seized her hand, and pressed it to his lips.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
“I think, my lord, that you have drunk too freely. I think it would be wise for you to go home.”
“Wise!” replied the poet. “But what is wisdom? It is for the old— a compensation for those whom love has passed by.”
“Love! You speak to me of love!”
“Why not? You enchant me. You delight me. So I come to lay my proposals at your feet, to beg you not to deny me, for I am dying of love for you.”
“I shall be grateful if you will leave at once.”
“I will not until you have heard me.”
“These are my apartments…”
“I know. I know. Your husband’s lowborn sister married the King. By my faith! I have often wondered how she seduced him to marriage. Well, she did, and thus were her lowborn brothers raised to greatness. The King delights in having those about him who are lowborn. Do you know why? It is because he need not fear them. It is the nobles whom he must fear. Look at them: Wolsey, Cromwell, Gardiner and… the Seymours. All lowborn people.”
“How dare you?” cried the enraged lady.
She went toward the door, but he barred the way. He seized her and held her fast, laughing as he did so.
“Do not imagine, my dear Lady Hertford, that my proposal is an honorable one. No, I could not…even if I were in a position to offer you marriage, and you in a position to receive such an offer… make such an offer. It has been suggested that your brother-in-law should marry my sister. But I would not allow that. Marry a Seymour with a Howard! That could not be. There is too great a gulf between our families. But another kind of liaison between your house and mine might be arranged….”
She had broken free and was about to call her servants when she remembered that she could not easily ask them to remove from her apartments such an important nobleman.
She was by no means a hysterical woman and, as she stood there, uncertain how to get rid of him, she was deciding that he should pay for this insult with his life.
There was nothing she could do but walk with dignity to the door. This she did, leaving him alone in the apartment.
Surrey stood watching her leave. He knew that of all the foolish things he had ever done in his life—and they were legion—this was about the most foolish. And he did not care.
He left the apartment. He knew that Hertford would take revenge. But he did not care. He had lost interest in living. There was one thing he would have liked, though; and that was to hear Lady Hertford’s description of the scene which had just taken place when she imparted it to her husband.
IT WAS A COLD December day and the King was now in his royal palace of White Hall.
He was feeling a little better than of late. He had suffered great pain through the cauterization of his legs, but he believed the treatment to have been successful and he was looking forward to the Christmas revels. His mind kept reverting to the past, and he was thinking now of other revels at which he had been the leading spirit. Wistfully he longed for a return of his youth.
It was at such times that he thought much of women, but his fancy did not stay long on any in particular. His
