A Young Queen's Struggle to Balance Duty and Desire - Blog Tour and Book Excerpt for "What Love E'er Meant"

BOOK EXCERPT

December 14, 1558

Elizabeth made her way down the gallery, determined to appreciate the waning hours of her stay at Somerset House and gird herself for the symbolic start to her responsibility. Today was Mary’s funeral, the last Requiem Mass that would be sung in England, and only now would Elizabeth move into an official royal residence. What started out as convenience had turned into brilliant political strategy: with Mary’s final debts presented in the days after her death, Elizabeth’s absence created a visceral reminder that she could not be blamed for them.

Just in front of her, William Cecil stepped out of his office. “Ah, Cecil, you are coming to supper? You may escort me.”

He raced to give her his arm. “You do me too much honor. Though I am told nowhere near as much as you offer Robert Dudley.”

There was an edge to his voice. Jealousy or judgment? Maybe both. “Oh?”

“Is it true you receive him in your apartments late at night? I worry for your reputation if this becomes known. People will call you…people will talk.”

Embarrassment at Cecil’s disapproval ceded quickly to resentment, and she determined to continue visits she deeply enjoyed. Cecil had always been a prude. She had done nothing wrong, which made this about power, not morality. If Elizabeth bent now, petty opinions would always control her. She needed to quash this, or nothing she ever did would ever be enough. “I do receive him, just as I would receive you or any Councilor, surrounded by my ladies.”

“He is a married man.”

“And you are not?” She put an exaggeratedly quizzical look on her face. “Has something happened to Mildred?”

Cecil bowed his head as if acknowledging his hypocrisy, but continued. “You should not show such favor to—”

“I will show whatever favor I please. Especially to my advisors.”

“Hence my worry. Robert Dudley’s motives are always self-interested.”

“He wishes to serve me. As many do,” she said calmly, not caring that she would never change Cecil’s mind about Robin. They were perfect foils, and that served her: her father’s worst mistakes had come from heeding a single perspective.

“Could he not do so during the daytime?”

“I have always conducted myself properly,” she said, each word crisper than the last. “I daresay, if I were a man, I would already have done far worse.”

“The eyes of the world—”

“Are judging me unfairly if they are judging me at all. You should be defending me and my prerogative.”

He winced. “I do and I always will. But privately I believe it would be fatal to your reputation to be called an adulteress.”

The word stung. But the accusation had been falsely leveled at her before, and now it only fueled her defiance. “Adulteress? For playing cards with all my ladies surrounding me?”

“It is not about the truth; it is about what people believe. And if they believe you an adulteress, they will turn against you.”

“I cannot control people’s opinions. And slinking away with my tail between my legs will only lend truth to the slander. I will not validate anyone’s evil judgment when I am doing nothing wrong.”

“You represent the Protestant ideal and should—”

“Thank you,” she said, as if his argument contained only compliment. “I am always aware of that – as I am of the rights God has given me.”

That stopped him. “I never meant to suggest otherwise. Please forgive me.”

They walked on in silence. She paused at the entrance to the Great Hall, ostensibly to survey but also to give herself a moment to shake off the conversation and the feeling of guilt that lingered despite her victory.

Flirting was not adultery, she reminded herself. Besides, testing her virtue was the best way of proving it. God is more pleased with a man who is able to sin but does not, than with a man who has no opportunity to sin.