She was sharp for her thirteen years and was no doubt watching events as eagerly as any.
A groom took his horse, and he went into the house. He was received by the tutors of the royal children, Sir John Cheke, Dr. Cox and Sir Anthony Cooke.
“Greetings, gentlemen!” he cried in his jaunty way. “I hear there is to be a parting between our Prince and Princess; and I have ridden hither to see them both while under the same roof.”
“They will welcome your coming, Sir Thomas. The Prince speaks of you often and has been wondering when you will come to see him.”
“And the Princess?”
“She has not spoken of you, but I dare swear she will have pleasure at the sight of you.”
He went to the apartment where the young Prince and his sister were together. There were traces of tears on the faces of both.
Thomas knelt before the heir to the throne and kissed his hand.
“Uncle Thomas!” cried Edward. “Oh, how glad I am to see you!”
“Your Highness is gracious,” said Thomas. He turned to Elizabeth. “And the Lady Elizabeth, is she pleased to see me?”
She gave him her hand and let it linger in his while he fervently kissed it.
“You come, my lord, at a sad time,” she said.
“We have been so happy here,” said Edward passionately, “but we are to be parted. I am to be sent to Hertford, and my sister to Enfield. Oh why, why?”
“Those are your royal father’s commands,” said the Admiral. “I doubt not that he hath good reason.”
He thought how fair she was, this little girl who, in spite of her slender child’s body—she was too restless of mind to put on flesh— had all the ways of a woman.
“I have wept,” said Elizabeth, “until I have no tears left.”
Thomas smiled. She had not wept so much that the tears had spoiled her prettiness. She would have wept discreetly. It was the poor little Prince who was heartbroken at the prospect of their separation. Elizabeth’s tears had been a charming display, an outward sign of the affection she bore to one who soon—surely very soon—must be King of England.
“We have been so happy,” persisted the Prince. “We love Hatfield, do we not, sister?”
“I shall always love Hatfield. I shall remember all the happy days I have spent here, brother.”
Hatfield! mused Seymour. A lovely place. A fitting nursery for the royal children. The King had taken a fancy to it and had intimated to the Bishop of Ely, to whom it had belonged, that he should present it to his royal master. It was true that His Majesty had given the Bishop lands in exchange, but one’s possessions were not safe when such covetous eyes were laid upon them.
And as she stood there, with the faint winter light on her reddish hair, in spite of the fact that she was a girl and a child, she reminded the Admiral of her father.
But I’ll have her, he swore. If I wait for years I’ll have her.
And so did he believe in his destiny, that he was sure this thing would come to pass.
The Prince dismissed his attendants, and the Admiral sat on the window seat, the Prince on one side of him, the Princess on the other; and never did he take such pains to exert his charms as he did on that day.
“My dear Prince, my dearest Princess,” he said, “you are so young to be parted. If I had my way I should let you do exactly as you wished.”
“Oh, Uncle Thomas, dearest Uncle Thomas,” said the Prince, “if only you had your way! Have you seen Jane? I see her so rarely now.”
“She is happy at court with the Queen.”
“I know. She would be happy with our dearest mother. But how I wish she could be with me. And now they would take Elizabeth from me.”
“It may not be for long,” said the Admiral recklessly, yet deliberately indiscreet.
The two children looked at him in astonishment.
“My dears, forget those words,” he said. “By God’s precious soul, I should never have uttered them. It is tantamount to treason. Would you betray me, Edward?”
“Never! Never! I would rather die than betray you, dearest Uncle.”
He put his arm about the boy and, holding him, turned to Elizabeth.
“And you, my lady, would you betray poor Thomas?”
She did not answer for a moment. She lowered her silky lashes so that he could not see her eyes. He put his unengaged arm out to seize her.
He said: “Edward, I’ll not let her go until she swears she will not betray me.”
To the boy it was horseplay, in which Uncle Thomas Seymour loved to indulge.
Her face close to his, Elizabeth said: “No. No. I do not think I would betray you.”
“And why is that?” he asked, putting his lips near hers.
