‘A very flower to greet us by the way. Hast seen the sweet Queen pass by, my babe?’
The word seemed to linger on her lips. She gazed at Brion as if she would have devoured him.
He answered: ‘Yes, Madam; but thou art the prettier.’
She put her finger to her lips, while the gentleman laughed.
‘Hush!’ she said. ‘Talk’st treason, my pretty one. Shall I be thy first lover, then? Mount hither, while I buss thee.’
Mr Angell put his hands under the child’s armpits, and lifted him up.
‘Set thy little foot in the stirrup,’ said the lady, and she wound an arm about him, and, holding him tightly, first searched him in the face, then pressed her lips to his. ‘Art happy?’ she whispered in his ear, and something seemed to trickle down his cheek. ‘Yes, Madam,’ he answered in likewise low, for in his heart he felt this to be a confidence. ‘That is well,’ she whispered back; and at that moment there was a sound of returning hoofs on the road, and a varlet came spurring towards them and drew up close beside.
‘My Lord of Leicester,’ said the man: ‘the Queen’s Majesty asks for you.’
The gentleman held a riding switch in his hand: he put heel to his horse, approached the messenger, and slashed the thong with a vicious oath across his face. His teeth showed, and the wings of his nose lifted like a cat’s. The fellow swayed, almost blinded, and near lost his seat.
‘That is to learn thee discretion,’ quoth his master; and turned to the lady. ‘Hearest? Drop that brat and give rein.’