Since she is formed of none other mold,
But ruby, crystal, ivory, pearl, and gold."
Edward bowed deeply. Straightening-up, he stepping forward and presented the manuscript to Elizabeth along with his best bow. The young Queen received the poem with a gracious smile and pronounced it, "Splendid." The room broke into loud applause.
Edward flashed a mischievous grin. Suddenly, to everyone's astonishment, the young Earl sprung forward, jumped up onto the royal lap and kissed Elizabeth full on the lips. There was a moment of stunned silence before the Queen laughed, clearly delighted with her tiny, blushing poet.
That night, musicians played a bombastic march as fireworks arched over the castle's battlements, dazzling onlookers before falling to earth. The Queen watched from a high window, the delighted Edward still at her side.
-:-:-
The next day dawned clear and bright. Elizabeth asked Edward to show her his favorite local sights. Soon, their mounts were descending the steep driveway towards a large fishpond.
As they ambled peacefully along, Edward entertained Elizabeth with a story about the fishpond. A secret tunnel led down to its banks from deep inside the castle's walls. Centuries earlier, during one particularly lengthy siege, his ancestors, who traversed the tunnel to fish regularly, had rained their catch down on the besiegers' heads. Demoralized by this humiliating demonstration of their inability to starve the Oxfords into submission, the attackers had marched off in search of less formidable targets.
Elizabeth was delighted with Edward's story. By now, the narrow trail had led them to a broad, flat meadow. Elizabeth halted her horse, sucking in the scent of wildflowers. Above them, birds annoyed by their intrusion, began calling loudly.
"Shall we gallop?" asked the Queen.
"By all means, your Majesty," Edward replied. Placing his riding crop sideways in his mouth, he gathered up the reins and prepared to apply his spurs.
"Edward, why do you bite your crop so?"
Edward lifted the crop from his jaw. "My father taught me the trick, your Majesty. It stops my teeth rattling around. Once we were racing each other and in the excitement, I forgot to keep my jaw clenched. My mount stumbled, jarring me, and smashing my teeth together."
"That must have hurt."
"It did indeed. I thought I'd bitten my tongue off; the pain was terrible. So now I bite into my crop to keep my teeth clamped together."
"What a good idea. I once chipped a tooth in a similar mishap." The Queen placed her riding crop sideways in her mouth. Grinning like a child, she kicked her horse into motion and raced off across the sunny meadow. Edward urged his horse after her. Startled hares scrambled out of their path.
In the excitement of her headlong gallop, Elizabeth quickly discovered that she enjoyed clamping down on her riding crop. Carrying her crop in her mouth, somewhat like a leather bit, became a habit whenever she rode fast. It was of course, a custom the Queen dispensed with as undignified in sight of visiting ambassadors and other dignitaries.
-:-:-
The royal attendant announced a name in loud, ringing tones, startling Edward from his memories. A new supplicant stepped forward eagerly and bowed to the Queen. Edward and the others all shuffled forward one step. He looked around the giant hall and thought back to the time his father had danced attendance at Elizabeth's Court. The Queen's invitation had arrived shortly after her stay at Castle Hedingham.
-:-:-
Like Edward, John found the royal court to be a treacherous world of dissolute emotions and rancorous rivalries. By day, he and Margery hunted and feasted with the Queen. After dark, they donned lavish costumes and outlandish masks to dance amidst swirling courtiers.
At first, the Earl and his attractive young wife ignored the deep currents of envy and treachery swirling beneath the Court's festive, glittering surface. They succeeded in closing their ears to the gossip about Elizabeth Tudor. Many of these whisperings revolved around the Queen's habit of picking lovers from among her Gentlemen Pensioners. These were the crown's private bodyguard, recruited from good-looking, well-born youths.
According to the whisperers, her Majesty, having announced herself "joined in marriage to a husband, namely the Kingdom of England," felt free to satisfy her earthy needs with Gentlemen Pensioners. The maids of honor were in a more-or-less constant state of agitation, giggling behind closed doors and discreetly raised fans about which gentleman was currently measuring up to the Queen's stringent standards.
As the months drifted by, John found himself drawn into the courtly games of influence and intrigue. When Elizabeth appointed him to the Privy Council, her group of top advisors, it became impossible for John not to side against Burghley and the new politicians. He and Margery were soon caught up in a dizzying whirlpool of feud-riven ambition and corruption.
At court one man's rise to prominence inevitably signaled another's fall from influence. And as always, those who lost favor could also lose their lives.
-:-:-
Not surprisingly, John began to relish his visits to Castle Hedingham almost as much as Edward, who found life without this once familiar figure very difficult. In common with children everywhere, all Edward ever wanted was his father and mother's constant, devoted attention.
In 1562, John was at Castle Hedingham on a rare visit home when grim-faced messengers arrived with a sealed letter from London. As John read the message, sadness swept over his features. A sudden fever had carried away his good friend, the Earl of Shropshire, leaving vacant the vital post of Lord Chamberlain, chief advisor to Elizabeth. Calling for his boots and horse, John set out for London.
Upset over his father's hasty departure, Edward begged for, and received, permission to ride the first few miles with him.
"Why do you have to rush back to London, father?"
"Because a very important man has just died."
"Must you go, father?"
"Yes," John said sadly, guiding his mount around a fallen branch. "Your mother will join me in a few days time."
"May I accompany her?"
"No. You have your studies to keep you busy."
"I'd rather ride with you."
"And I'd rather you attended to your uncle and tutor, Arthur."
"But, father..."
"Your mother only recently convinced her brother to leave his post at Cambridge University and become your tutor. You must not repay his great generosity by wasting the man's time."
"I'd rather study fencing than Latin."
"You're going to need both, Edward," John said patiently.
"Why?"
"Because an Earl must have a well-rounded education. It isn't enough to be able to swing a sword in battle. Great things are also expected of you and your pen."
"What manner of things?"
"Consider the fine example Uncle Arthur is setting for you. He's hard at work translating Ovid's poem "Metamorphoses" into English, all fifteen books."
"I know, father," Edward sighed. "We read that epic daily, in English and Latin."
"Good. I want you to know it by heart."
"I'll never manage that, father."
"Oh, you will. It just takes time. Literature's in your blood, my boy. Never forget that your other uncle, Henry Howard, the Earl of Surrey, wrote the first English sonnets."
"I can write sonnets. Uncle Arthur showed me. Let me ride to London and I'll write one about you."
"No. I've told you that I ride on important and sober business."
"Yes, a very important man has just died."
"That's