I could imagine them all—Norfolk, Sussex and Arundel—rubbing their hands together with glee. Leicester is out of favor. Let us kick him while he is down. Let us destroy the gentleman once and for all.

Robert might survive my disfavor and occupy himself away from Court, but if he were found guilty of murder, what then?

Old scandals did not easily die. Skeletons remained to confront the unwary. But they had forgotten that if Robert could not afford to have the circumstances of Amy Robsart's death brought into prominence, nor could I.

I thought of him surrounded by the splendors of Kenilworth. Was he as lonely as I, as wretched without me as I was without him?

I knew what I would do. I would recall him to Court. I would show my favor to him. I would let him know that when he was in danger there was one who would not forget him.

I sent for him.

He came back with all speed. I shall never forget the moment when he came into my chamber. He knelt at my feet and I touched his head—that dark curling hair which I loved so much.

I said: “Rob, the Court has been dull without you.”

“Elizabeth,” he said. “My beautiful Elizabeth.”

Then he was kissing my hands and I felt near to weeping.

“You are an evil man to displease me,” I cried emotionally. “Never… never do it again.”

He stood up and would have embraced me but I stepped back. Too much emotion might betray me into taking steps which I would regret later.

I said: “I want to discuss that knave Appleyard with you.”

So we talked and it was as it used to be. He told me how lonely he had been, how pointless life was and he had not much cared when Appleyard had brought his monstrous accusations against him.

“The rogue shall be made to eat his words,” I said. “I doubt not that now you are back with me Norfolk and the rest will be less anxious to bay at your heels.”

“May God bless Your Majesty now and forever.”

“Oh Robin,” I said quietly, “it pleases me to have you back.”

I ORDERED THAT John Appleyard be arrested and examined by the Privy Council and I commanded Cecil to interrogate him first; and then the other members of the Council should do so. This included Norfolk and Sussex. But I had no fear of them. My favor had drawn their teeth, and as Cecil realized the need to discredit Appleyard, for accusations against Robert could incriminate me, I could rely on the matter's being brought to a satisfactory conclusion.

I was right to act as I did. Appleyard confessed that he had received money from Robert, but as he was his brother-in-law there seemed nothing significant in this. He had, he admitted, asked Robert for money and Robert had considered his demands as blackmail to which he would not submit, and had cut off all communications with him. That had been the state of affairs when he had been approached by two men who offered him money to reopen the scandal. He was ashamed to say that he had agreed to do this.

He was a frightened man and I was grateful to Cecil for proving that this had only come to light because Appleyard knew that Robert was out of favor at Court. We did not know who the men were who had approached him, but I was ready to swear that Norfolk had had a hand in it.

Appleyard was all contrition; he pointed out that he did not believe his half-sister had been murdered and that all he would say—even when bribed—was that he believed, because of the Earl of Leicester's standing at Court, the matter had not been sifted properly. He had merely asked for a reopening of the investigation.

The minutes of the inquest were presented to him but it was discovered that the man could not read and they had to be read to him.

Here was a man who could not read, who had first taken money from Robert—although it had been given out of generosity to a brother-in-law— and who had accepted bribes from the men who would not come into the open, but wanted to bring a case against the Earl of Leicester which they thought at this time might succeed.

The whole case clearly had its roots in malice.

Cecil and I agreed that no revenge should be taken on Appleyard. We wanted no martyrs. All we wanted was no more talk about a matter which was best forgotten. So Appleyard was discharged with a warning that he should take more care in future.

Robert was back in higher favor than ever. I did not think he would lightly displease me again, and I was very happy to have him beside me.

As a precaution I summoned Lettice's father, who was the Treasurer of the Royal Household, and I told him that I did not like wives and mothers to be separated from their families for too long, and I thought it would be better if his daughter returned to her husband.

Her husband was in Ireland, he told me.

But I frowned and said her children would be missing her.

It was good enough. He knew that it was my wish that Lettice should retire from Court.

So she went and that, I thought, will be the end of Robert's little flutter with that woman which had caused me such unnecessary trouble.

EVENTS IN SCOTLAND NOW BEGAN TO ASTOUND US. IT seemed that Mary could not be anywhere without raising a storm; she must always be at the center of great events. I had been amused to discover that she had quickly realized the nature of the man she had so romantically married. Lord Darnley was dissolute, unfaithful and a heavy drinker, and as soon as she had fondly but foolishly proclaimed him King of Scotland he made no attempt to hide his true nature. His behavior was despicable. He became involved in street brawls, picked quarrels with all those who dared contradict him and took every advantage of Mary's devotion to him. That devotion very naturally soon began to fade and she must have seen him in a very different light—seen what to me had been obvious from the start—the weakness of those sensuous lips, the blankness behind the pretty eyes. What a fool Mary was! She made me realize more than ever that I had been wise “to suffer no commander,” as her Ambassador had put it.

In one thing she had succeeded. She had quickly become pregnant. Cecil brought me the news with something like reproach in his eyes, but I reminded him that Mary had been foolish to marry Darnley when she might have had the Earl of Leicester. To which Cecil replied: “Your Majesty knows that Leicester would never have been allowed to leave your Court. You cannot let him stay in Kenilworth long without recalling him.”

“Robert would never have gone,” I said with a smile, “so we waste time, Master Cecil, in discussing what can never be now. So… she is with child. That will please the people of Scotland, doubtless. But it is another little claimant to our throne.”

“The Queen of Scots appears to be distressed by her husband's drunken frolics and his numerous infidelities. Doubtless the child will console her.”

There were rumors about her Italian secretary, David Rizzio, an excellent musician of whom she was said to be inordinately fond. I could imagine that this Italian was a charming relief from the dissolute Darnley; and Mary was noted for gathering about her poets and musicians. I supposed she was trying to bring something of the French Court into that of Scotland. The contrast must be very depressing for her.

There had already been some scandal about a young French poet, Pierre de Chastelard, who had escorted her when she had first arrived in Scotland and returned to France to be sent back by Catherine de' Medici, probably to spy for her, as that wily woman would not have sent a charming young man merely for the purpose of diverting her daughter-in-law.

We had heard that Chastelard and David le Chante, as she called Rizzio, were constantly in her company. Chastelard was said to be the Queen's lover and had even been discovered hiding in her bedchamber, though I have to say that it was Mary and her ladies who found him there and raised the alarm; but as I said he could not have been hopefully hiding there unless he had had some encouragement.