Jean Plaidy - The Murder in the Tower - The Story of Frances, Countess of Essex

Frances was intoxicated with happiness.

“The beauteous nymph of crystal streaming Lea …” sang the musicians and for one moment everyone in that great hall was looking toward Frances Howard.

Too soon the charm of Anne Clifford, the nymph of Aire, was being acclaimed, but the words about the nymph of Lea went on and on in Frances’s mind.

As she danced with the others after the fashion which they had practiced together, she tried to get as near as possible to that spot where the Prince sat beside his father.

He too had become older since she had last seen him; he was no longer a boy.

He had noticed her, she was sure of it. Every time she took a sly look at him, he was watching.

This is the happiest moment of my life … so far, Frances told herself.

Anne, the Queen , assured those surrounding her that it was the happiest of hers, for now the nymphs had stood aside and little Zephyr had appeared. His green satin robe was decorated with gold flowers, and wings made of silver lawn were attached to his back. A wreath of flowers had been placed on his flowing hair and Anne’s eyes sought the valuable diamond bracelet which she had put on his little arm when she went to see him being dressed.

With him were his naiads, lovely children with their hair hanging loose, garlanded like Zephyr, dressed in pale blue tunics decorated with silver flowers.

The children made a charming sight, particularly as they danced so skillfully to the music which had been written for the occasion.

Applause broke out and there was a whisper of astonishment, for Zephyr, who now danced so elegantly, was none other than the ten-year-old little Prince Charles who, a few years ago, had been unable to walk and in danger of having his legs put into iron supports.

Lady Carey who was standing near the Queen, was weeping, although she did not seem to be aware of it; Anne reached out and taking her hand, pressed it.

“Your Majesty …” whispered Lady Carey.

But Anne put her fingers to her lips and whispered: “Well done. I shall never forget.”

The scene of Milford Haven had been withdrawn and another even more striking was presented to view. Waterfalls were visible about a grotto, and in this grotto was a throne on which sat Tethys, daughter of Uranus and wife of Oceanus. This was none other than Queen Anne herself, who was always delighted to play a part in the pageantry. For days she had thought of little but the costume she would wear, and it was truly striking. On her head was a helmet in the shape of a shell; it was decorated with coral and a veil of silver floated from it. Her gown was blue silk, traced with silver seaweed; and her magnificent blue and silver train was draped about her throne.

Seated at her feet were the river nymphs. Frances had placed herself in the most prominent position, and every now and then threw a glance in Prince Henry’s direction, for, she told herself, was it not all in honor of him, and should not every river nymph among them seek to please him?

The poem which was being recited explained what was happening.

Little Zephyr would now take presents from Tethys and present them to those for whom they were intended.

Gracefully he walked to the Queen, who handed him the trident she carried and whispered to him. Charles carried it to his father and bowed. James took it awkwardly; and Charles returned to his mother once more and received the sword, which was encrusted with precious gems and was said to be worth four thousand pounds, and a scarf which the Queen herself had embroidered. These were for her beloved son who was now the Prince of Wales.

The assembly applauded enthusiastically and little Charles held up his hand as he had been taught to do, to remind them that this was not all; he then returned to his mother and kneeling, implored her in a high, sweet voice, with only the slightest stammer, to come down from her throne and dance, for the Court’s enjoyment, with her river nymphs.

The Queen pretended to consider this while Charles, beckoning to his little naiads, took the floor and once more danced with his charming companions.

Then the Queen rose and the girls who had been ranged about her in the grotto fell into place about her. She led the way and they danced the stately quadrille which they had practiced together for many days.

Anne in her shell-helmet and her blue and silver gown looked ecstatic. She was completely happy. It seemed to her on that day that she had all that she desired. She herself the center of the dance; James looking on, a little bored but tolerant, understanding that it was necessary from time to time to have such pageants; her beloved eldest, now the Prince of Wales; her daughter a charming, docile girl; her youngest, over whose state she had shed many tears, now a normal boy, promising to be as handsome as his brother.

Oh, thought Anne, that this day might last forever!

Robert Carr, who was seated with the King, found his attention wandering from the dancing. He was turning over in his mind something which James had said to him recently. Why did he not find himself a clever scribe?

Easier said than done. Where could Robert find such a man? But how inviting was the suggestion. The King’s secretary! One of the most important of posts—particularly if a man enjoyed the King’s favor. It was only his lack of ability which was keeping him from reaching the top of his ambition. James was ready to bestow on him anything he wished; but how could even James give him a post which all those about him would know he was inadequate to fulfill?

A scribe? He needed more than a scribe. He needed someone on whom he could absolutely rely, someone who would be prepared to work for him in secret, someone who knew how to use words and had a sharp and clever brain. But surely such a person would want to seek honors for himself. Not if he had little hope of doing so. Moreover, how could an ambitious man hope to rise more easily than by doing service to Robert Carr, who could direct the King’s attention toward him?

Like James he was a little bored with the Queen and her dancing girls.

Then it was almost as though a prayer had been answered, for while the Queen and the River Nymphs were dancing their quadrille he caught sight of a man whom he had known a few years earlier and had not seen for some time.

They had been great friends. Thomas Overbury was a clever fellow, a poet, a graduate of Oxford; a very pleasant young man. Older than Robert, he would be about twenty-nine. What had been happening to Tom Overbury since they last met?

His fortunes had certainly not risen as Robert’s had. He was at the pageant, not exactly as a member of the Court but from somewhere on the fringe. He had been rather fond of Robert, amused at his lack of scholarship while, like the King, he recognized a shrewd brain and intelligence.

As soon as he could make an opportunity he would seek out Tom Overbury.

An opportunity came during the ball that followed the pageant.

The King, unwillingly, must partner the Queen in opening the ball, and Robert had his opportunity to slip away.