Elizabeth: The Golden Age by TASHA ALEXANDER Read Free Book Online

the doors. He leaned back on his heels, frustrated.
    “I told you, sir,” Calley said.
    “Don’t be so quick to lose faith.” He tried to think of another way to convince the doorkeeper to admit him without further waiting but found himself wholly distracted by the memory of the girl’s upturned lips. It tugged at his chest, surprising him. He would not have thought anything could distract him from his purpose, even for a moment. She’d been carrying a book; he wondered what it was.
    
    Elizabeth shook her head as Bess rushed into the room and curtsied, low and elegant, before her. “Late again, Bess.”
    “I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness,” the girl said, cheeks warm. Elizabeth wondered if it was from running or from embarrassment. The pearls dangling from her ears quivered as the crimson flush traveled from her chest all the way to the roots of her blond hair.
    “Given. Once.”
    Bess sighed, her relief evident. “The puddle man is outside, Majesty.”
    “Is he?” Her interest was piqued. He was showing a pleasing persistence and might prove more interesting than most of the gentlemen at court. Or, more important, than any of the princes fighting for her hand in marriage. She took Bess’s arm and turned her to the row of portraits. “Come. You must help me evaluate my suitors. Who do you have for me, Lord Howard, aside from the Frenchman with the foul breath?”
    Howard was standing next to the third easel, his jaw clenched. “The Archduke Charles of Austria, Majesty. The younger brother of Maximilian II.”
    “He’s rather sweet,” Elizabeth said, studying the image of a handsome young man with reddish-brown hair. “More your age than mine, Bess, don’t you think?”
    “How old is he?” Bess asked.
    “Sixteen, maybe eighteen... I think,” Howard said.
    “Would he mistake me for his mother?” the queen asked. She and Bess looked at each other and burst into laughter, their heads bent together as Walsingham stepped forward.
    “An Austrian alliance would stick in Philip’s throat.”
    “Always ready to seize the opportunity, aren’t you, Moor?” The queen looked across the room at the Spanish delegation, all surly, none among them attempting to hide his displeasure at being kept waiting. “I become almost enthusiastic. Send for him,” she said to Lord Howard, smiling, then turned to Bess. “I think we’re done here, and I’m overdue for some amusement. Why don’t you bring me the puddle man?”
    The girl bobbed a curtsy and hurried to the door.
    “How much longer do you think I can play this game?” the queen asked, her voice quiet as she returned to her throne with Walsingham by her side.
    “Virginity is an asset that holds its value well,” Walsingham said.
    “Diplomatically speaking.” The queen’s face betrayed no emotion; her cheeks did not color; her lips did not move. But her eyes danced, just a little. She had no intention of marrying any of these men, but she had no objection to being wooed.
    There was a commotion as the door opened and a motley party led by Bess and the puddle man, dressed far better than when she’d seen him last, entered the room. As soon as they’d started toward the throne, the Spanish ambassador cried out an objection and started to push his way forward, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice.
    “Majesty, this man is well known to be a pirate,” Don Guerau said, thrusting an angry finger at the newcomer.
    “Indeed?” asked the queen, finding more than a little humor in the irritation on the Spaniard’s face.
    The ambassador motioned to the hampers carried by Raleigh’s men. “Spanish treasure, stolen from Spanish ships. Attacked without provocation.”
    Silent, Raleigh knelt before Elizabeth, who gestured for him to rise. “Well, sir. Who are you?”
    “Walter Raleigh, Your Majesty.” His eyes lingered on hers in a most deliberate fashion.
    “What is your rank?” she asked.
    “A gentleman of Devon.”
    “What do you