Because of it I am reckless. I say to the one I love that which, in other circumstances, I would not dare to say.”
“Say on,” she murmured.
“I love you … no one but you. There would be no place in my life except by your side. It is well that soon they will come for me and that I shall walk out to the scaffold, for, loving one so far above me, how could I hope for that love to be returned?”
“A man is a fool who gives up hope.”
“Is that so then?”
“Hope is what we live by … such as we are.”
“What could I hope for?”
“For life.”
“But what would life be worth if it held not love?”
“Then hope for life and love.”
“Elizabeth … my love!”
“It is true,” she admitted, “that I have a fondness for you.”
“I am the happiest man alive.”
“It is a marvelous thing, Robert, that you can say so at such a time.”
“Would I could be there beside you on the grass.”
“I fancy that you would be over-bold, which might mean that I should have to be cold to you.”
“I would break through your coldness.”
“Yes. I have heard that you have melting powers.”
“You have heard much of me. I am flattered again that you lent your ears so often to news of me … even when it went against me.”
“I did not forget you. You were such an arrogant boy.”
“You remember how we danced together … how our hands touched?”
“Do not talk of the past. Talk of the future.”
“What has the future for me?”
“Or for me?”
“You! There will be a great future for you. You will be a Queen.”
“Shall I, Robert?”
“A Queen! And your husband will be a foreign prince of great power and riches. Your ministers will choose him for you.”
“If I am ever Queen I shall choose my own husband.”
Such words set his hopes rising. Such hopes were absurd, he told himself. But were they? She was so proud, so brave, so determined. She was her father’s daughter; he had heard it said many times. Her father had married outside royalty. It was true that two of his wives had lost their heads; but Robert was sure of his powers.
“If ever I come out of here alive …” he began.
“Yes, Robert?” she prompted.
“I shall dedicate my life to your service.”
“Others have promised that.”
“I shall serve you with the love of a subject and … a man.”
“Subject?”
“When you are Queen …”
“You talk treason. If any heard, that would, without delay, cost you your head.”
“My heart is so deeply involved that my head seems of little importance.”
“I dare stay no longer.”
Yet how she wanted to do so! What a pleasant game it was that she played outside the walls of the Beauchamp Tower.
It was one of the children who broke the enchantment.
Little Susannah came to her one day as she walked in the gardens.
Susannah had found some keys, and these she had brought to the Princess. The little girl had listened to the conversations of her elders and had thought how she would like to do something for the sweet young lady. Young Will took her flowers, and those pleased her so much. What could Susannah do?
Then Susannah thought of something better than flowers. The Princess was a prisoner, was she not? Flowers were pretty to look at, but keys were so much more useful. So purposefully Susannah took the keys to the Princess, holding them out in her small chubby hand.
“These are for you, Mistress. Now you can unlock the gates and go home.”
Elizabeth bent over the child, but her guards had come forward.
“Your Grace will understand,” said one of the guards, “that I must take these keys, and that it will be necessary for me to report what has happened.”
“You may do as you please,” said Elizabeth. “This innocent child but plays a game.”
Susannah cried: “But the keys are for the lady. They are so that she may open the gates and go home.”
Elizabeth stooped to comfort the child. “It was good of you to bring me the keys, Susannah,” she said. “But you see, my dear little one, they will not let me have them.”
Susannah began to whimper: “Have I done wrong then, Mistress?”
“Nay. You thought to please me. That was not wrong.”
“But they are angry now.”
“Nay. They have taken the keys because I am their prisoner and that is how they wish to keep me.”
“But I would help you to escape.”
“I know, my little one. But that is not to be. You must