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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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Brandon sighed deeply, then said, “He's just so—odd!”

“That may be because God needs different things from different people. Colin, Adam, and Adara are unique, and they all
face a hard and dangerous world.” He put his hand on Brandon's shoulder and added, “Have faith in God and believe that he will protect and use all three of them.”

Brandon smiled and looked relieved. “You sound like Eden. She is the one with faith. But with all the faith I have, I'll pray for my children.”

2

June 14, 1568

“Y
ou know, Eden,” Brandon said sourly, “all this reminds me of one of the plagues that the Bible speaks of.”

Eden looked up at her husband, surprised. The two were standing at the gate of Stoneybrook with their children, waiting for the arrival of the royal party. “What are you talking about, Brandon? What plague was that?”

“You remember when God sent Moses to deliver the Israelites from the Egyptians? He had to send plagues to force Pharaoh to listen. One of them was an enormous cloud of locusts. The Bible says they swarmed over the whole land, ate everything green, and stripped the land.”

“Why does this remind you of that?”

Brandon put his arm around her waist and drew her close. “Because these progresses do about the same thing.”

Adam had been listening carefully. He asked curiously, “Are you angry because the queen is coming, Father? I thought it was an honor.”

Glancing down at Adam, Brandon shrugged slightly. “It's just that the queen and her court and all these hangers-on are going to cost a fortune to feed and house. We'll be fortunate if we have a farthing left after this is over.”

Indeed, the progress had become a tradition with the Tudor monarchs. It involved a complicated process: a route was decided on, and the officials were sent out to ensure the queen's safety and to inform the unfortunate dukes, barons, and earls that they were about to be blessed with a visit from the court of Queen Elizabeth.

For Elizabeth this was a way of showing herself to her people. She generally traveled by horseback, but occasionally by litter. Sometimes she journeyed in an open coach so that the people could get a good view of her. The progress was as ostentatious as her ministers could possibly make it.

As soon as news was received of the queen's intended arrival in a town, the mayor and his officials set to work removing dung hills, pillories, and stocks. To prepare the town they bought fireworks, and there were Latin notations to rehearse. Stages were erected, and canvas forts and wooden castles were built for mock battles and military pageants.

The houses or castles in which the queen stayed belonged to the wealthy members of the nobility. All of them contemplated her arrival with alarm, and most owners were aware that when the queen's choice fell upon a house, the cost could run as high as a thousand pounds a day. Once, when the queen stayed for five days with Sir Nicholas Bacon, the Lord Keeper, he was forced to employ several London cooks and obliged to purchase sixty sheep, thirty-four lambs, twenty-six pigs, eighteen calves, eight oxen, and ten kids. He had to provide dozens of birds: over 350 chickens, more than two hundred pigeons, twelve dozen ducklings and herons, ten dozen geese, sixteen dozen quails, and much more.

In addition to the food and the drink, there were musicians to employ and deer to round up for hunting. Some noblemen were forced to enlarge their houses to care for the queen and her court, for Elizabeth once said to a baron bluntly: “You have made your house too small.”

“How long do you think she will stay, dear?” Eden asked anxiously. Her eyes were scanning the road, looking for a cloud of dust that would announce the arrival of the queen.

“There's no way of telling. Once she stayed for a month with the Duke of Norfolk.”

“Look, Father, they are coming!” Adam cried out.

“You are right, Son,” Brandon said glumly. His eyes swept the town that bordered the castle, and it seemed that every soul in the village had left his home. A babble of voices filled the air, and everyone was peering to the west down the narrow road that led to London. As the horsemen drew near, Brandon whispered, “For what we are about to receive, dear wife, may we be duly grateful.”

“I wish they would never come,” Eden murmured.

“Try to look happy, dear,” Brandon whispered. “Every nobleman becomes a hypocrite when he is chosen for one of Her Majesty's progresses. Every one of us hates it, but we can never do anything but pretend that it is nothing but the greatest blessing from our sovereign.”

The procession filed by until finally the litter bearing the queen halted right in front of where the family stood. Noblemen in full attire were waiting to open the door. One of them gave Elizabeth his hand, and she stepped out of the litter.

Brandon bowed and Eden curtsied and the children did as they were taught. Brandon smiled and said, “We welcome you to Stoneybrook, Your Majesty. It is good to see you again.”

“I hope we will not be too great an inconvenience, Lord and Lady Stoneybrook.”

“Not at all, Your Majesty. It is our pleasure.” Brandon was noting the man who stood closest to Elizabeth, Lord Burghley, the secretary of state. He was the individual Elizabeth trusted most in the world and made most of the decisions that affected the realm. Slightly farther back stood Sir Francis Walsingham, dressed entirely in black. He was the head of what amounted to
Elizabeth's secret service. He was a dangerous man but totally loyal to his queen. These two remained slightly back, and the queen leaned on the arm of her favorite, Robert Dudley. He was rarely far from Elizabeth, who had named him the Earl of Leicester. Leicester, a good friend of Brandon, was a handsome man attired in the best clothes that money could buy. He stepped forward and said, “My dear Lord Stoneybrook, I fear that we impose on your hospitality.”

Brandon quickly gave the expected response. “It is never an imposition to have you, Lord Leicester, and Her Majesty brightens any home that she chooses to grace.”

Elizabeth nodded with approval, then turned to speak with Eden. The two women had known each other for some time, and Eden was one of Elizabeth's favorites among the noblewomen. “How are you, my dear?”

“Very well, Your Majesty, and you are looking most splendid.”

“Thank you, but I fear the sun is making toast out of my skin. I must tell you we will be going to your parents' home later in the progress.”

“I'm sure they will be happy to welcome you, Your Majesty.”

Elizabeth smiled slightly, knowing that there was little truth in this but that it was the expected form of reply. Studying the children, she exclaimed, “What beautiful children!” Lifting Adam's chin gently, she asked, “Who is this?”

Brandon answered, “This is our eight-year-old, Adam, our eldest.”

“You look much like your father,” Elizabeth said. “And are you a good boy?”

“Oh yes, Your Majesty! Very good!”

Elizabeth laughed heartily. “I asked your father that once when he was very young, and do you know what he said?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“He said, ‘No, I'm not good,' and when I asked him why not, he said, ‘I was born in sin and in sin did my mother conceive me.'”

Great laughter followed this, and Leicester clapped Brandon on the shoulder. “An honest boy you were, Stoneybrook.”

Brandon flushed and muttered, “I was hoping you would have forgotten that, Your Majesty.”

“I never forget what a man says. And who is this?”

“This is Colin. He is six.” Elizabeth bent over and in a stage whisper asked, “And are you a good boy, Colin?”

Colin looked up and his face was serious. “Not always, but when I am naughty Father paddles me. So I try to be good as much as I can.”

Elizabeth found this amusing and put her hand on Colin's head. “He looks like you, Lady Stoneybrook. I hope he has all your good qualities.” Then she turned to Adara, smiling. “And who is this little one?”

Eden responded, “This is Adara, Your Majesty. She is four.”

“Aren't you a beauty!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

And Adara said, “Yes, I am!”

Elizabeth was momentarily surprised by the reply but laughed. “She is honest; I like that very much indeed.”

Brandon said, “Come and have some light refreshments, Your Majesty. Tonight we will have something more substantial and dancing. I claim a dance with you.”

“You shall have one, my lord.”

Brandon led the party to the great hall and Eden joined him, seeing to it that food and drink were available.

The great hall was filled and the number of voices speaking made it almost impossible to hear conversation. The smell of cooked meat was in the air. A minstrel was singing, and the dogs from time to time would fight over scraps that fell to the rushes that lined the floor.

Brandon stayed busy, but at one point he looked up and saw the queen gesture toward him. He went to her at once. She asked, “Is there a room where we can talk?”

“Of course, Your Majesty. Please follow me.” He led her
through the crowd and into a small room off to one side. It contained merely a table and several books and two chairs. “I call this my misery room.” He smiled as Elizabeth was seated. “When my wife hurts my feelings I come here and wallow in my misery until she forgives me.”

“I somehow doubt that, Stoneybrook. You are not one to be sullen, and your wife is not a woman to mistreat a good man like you.”

“Can I bring you something to drink?”

“No, sit down and talk with me.” Elizabeth waited until Brandon was seated, then she smiled. “I thought you were an honest man, sir. Your father, Stuart, was completely honest. I'm saddened and grieved to see that you have not inherited his good qualities.”

Brandon blinked with surprise. “Indeed I am not the man he was, Majesty, and I never was. But where have I been dishonest?”

“You didn't tell the truth when you greeted me. You said you were glad to welcome me.”

“Why—” Brandon stopped and his face turned red. “You think I am not glad to see you?”

“Me, perhaps, but what man in his right mind would welcome this mob? I have some idea of what this progress will cost you.” She smiled when she saw the guilty look on his face. “Never mind, Brandon. I will tell you a secret. You must never let anyone hear of this.” She leaned closer. “On a progress, I always stay longer with people I dislike and people who have not pleased me.” She laughed then. A deep laugh, and her eyes gleamed with pleasure. “Why, we stayed a full month with the Duke of Norfolk. It must have cost him a hundred thousand pounds to feed the lot of us. All the time he was smiling and bowing, but I knew he hated everyone there.”

“I am shocked, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, I am a devious woman! But your father was a favorite of mine. I love you for his sake, because you're his blood. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise, my queen?”

“We will stay the night, but we will leave early in the morning.” She waited for his reply and blinked with shock when he said, “Good! I will be glad to see the backs of the whole—except, of course, you, my queen.”

Elizabeth laughed again. She smiled as she reached out and touched his cheek and said, “I have dozens of men who load me with compliments. I know well they give them to get something out of me. But there are a few like you, Lord Stoneybrook, men I admire. Now I promised you a dance. Do you think your wife will be jealous?”

“Oh, yes indeed, Your Majesty, very jealous.”

“Then we will make her more so. Let us show these bumpkins what a dance should be!”

Brandon stood as far back to the wall as he could get, for the small room was crowded with the queen and the men who ran the nation of England. Elizabeth had asked for a conference room; then, to his surprise, she asked him to remain.

Brandon studied the faces of the men. To the queen's right was Lord Burghley, who was always close to her. To her left was Robert Dudley in all his glory, and across the table was Sir Francis Walsingham. Brandon realized this was, in effect, a meeting of her counsel, for these were the men she most trusted, who acted on her will and directed the affairs of England. The meeting went on for some time. Brandon was shocked to see Elizabeth, more than once, flare up with anger. There was another man in the room whom Brandon had heard of by reputation, Sir Francis Drake, by all reports the premier seaman in all the world. The Spanish called him a pirate because he raided their ships and ports regularly. He sat back smiling from time to
time, a man of below-average size with small, brilliant dark eyes and a pointed beard. He said very little, but Brandon knew that Elizabeth trusted him completely in matters concerning the navy.

The meeting was interrupted when Eden stepped inside. “Pardon me, Your Majesty, but there is a gentleman to see Sir Francis Walsingham. He is very insistent.”

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