“The Council would never agree to such a marriage, would they, Kat?” said Elizabeth wistfully.
“Nay.”
“They have their eyes on me now, Kat. I must walk warily. Do you not think so?”
“With the utmost wariness, my darling lady.”
“Kat Ashley, do you think I shall ever be Queen?”
Kat was solemn for a moment; she laid her hands on the girl’s shoulders and studied the pale face, the eyes which could at some times be earnest and at others frivolous, the mouth that provoked and promised, yet denied.
“Oh, my dearest mistress, my dearest mistress, I beg of you take care.”
“It is you who should take care, Kat. You gossip whenever you have a chance. You must restrain yourself now. My poor brother… my poor sister! Kat, just think of them. They seem so sick at times, and then… then there will be just myself.”
Kat sank to her knees and took the hand of her charge. She kissed it, and lifting her eyes to Elizabeth’s face said: “God save the Queen!”
Then they laughed together, looking over their shoulders with furtive enjoyment.
How like her mother she is! thought Kat again; and she held her fiercely and protectively. “God preserve her,” she prayed. “Take care of her. She is young…so very young.”
Nevertheless, she was wise; she was crafty; it was possible to see the craftiness in her face at times; later she would be crafty enough to hide it. But she was young yet.
“Keep her safe until she is old enough to keep herself safe,” Kat continued her prayer; and she thought: I am a fine one. I am as reckless as she is.
Elizabeth drew herself away from her governess and was solemn, thinking, as she must when she considered her nearness to the throne, of Thomas whom she could not have as well.
I need not fear for her, reflected Kat Ashley. She’ll pass through all the dangers. I never knew one so clever.
Her brother was learned, but the Princess was the cleverer of the two. Lady Jane Grey, who had been tutored with them, was also learned; they were a clever trio. But Jane and Edward loved learning for itself, while Elizabeth loved it for what she hoped it would bring her. It seemed as though she had trained herself from her earliest years for a great destiny. She excelled in all subjects; she was a Latin scholar; she spoke French, Spanish, Flemish and Italian fluently, taking great pains with those languages which she thought might be useful to her. Like young Jane and Edward, and indeed like most cultured children, she wrote verses; but while those children loved their verses and spent much time over them, Elizabeth wrote hers merely to show that she could do anything they could. Her greatest delight was to study the history, not only of her own country, but that of others. She wished to know how kings and governments had acted in the past, and the result of such actions. So the greater part of her time was devoted to the study of history, and she had learned foreign languages with such zest, that she might be able to read history written in those tongues. Always she was preparing herself for greatness. Therefore it seemed strange that a girl who, at such an early age, had so serious a purpose in mind which amounted almost to a dedication, could at the same time be so frivolous.
But she was her father’s daughter and he, while occupying his mind with great state policies, had found the inclination toward his pleasures irresistible.
Kat Ashley, while she admired her mistress’s uncommon astuteness, trembled for her.
“Kat dear,” said Elizabeth suddenly, “leave me. I have a letter to write.”
“To … the Admiral?”
“It is no concern of yours.”
“It is. It is. Have a care, sweetheart.”
“I intend to.”
“Do not forget….”
“I forget nothing. Go now. Go quickly, I say.”
Kat Ashley moved toward the door and, when she reached it, paused to look appealingly at the Princess.
“Oh, Kat,” said Elizabeth, “do not forget. Tomorrow we go to Chelsea, to be with my stepmother. We must prepare.”
“I had not forgotten. I, too, forget nothing, my lady.”
“Get you gone, and leave me to my work,” said Elizabeth, with a return of the imperious manner which she employed at times and which was always an indication that she had done with play.
She had made up her mind. Kat’s byplay had decided her. When she had knelt, and half in earnest had said, “God save the Queen!” she had brought Elizabeth to the point of decision.
The Princess dared not risk the loss of that for which, above everything, she longed.
I will not think of him, she told herself. I
Then she laughed aloud, for if she were a commoner would Thomas have looked her way? Yes, he would; it was not solely because she was third from the throne that he wanted her. If she had been a low serving girl he would have sought her out, even if only to make love to her.
She took up her pen.
