Robert Finch waited impatiently for the arrival of his neighbour and sponsor, Sir David Cassen. The day was fine, and he had had a table set in a quiet nook on the edge of the broad lawn. Cool wine and a large bowl of fruit were laid out temptingly, and two high backed chairs, comfortably padded, were drawn up. In one of these Finch sat, sipping a glass of claret.
The scene looked hospitable and innocent, hardly a setting for any converse of intrigue or import. It was deliberately misleading. Although the members of his household were old and trusted retainers, Robert was much too shrewd to take any chances.
Walls had ears, and closeting himself with Sir Cassen behind the stout doors of his study would be an obvious advertisement that they were discussing weighty matters. Here, on the lawn, they were perfectly safe from too-sharp ears. They could see anyone approaching from any angle, long before their voices could be heard.
It was the year 1580, and much was brewing. The long years of prosperity had given England wealth and prestige, but there was still constant danger from the continent.
English and Scottish Catholics as well as French and Spanish factions, all had reasons to wish to replace the fiery, protestant Elizabeth with Catholic Mary of Scotland, and the plotting was widespread. Although many of the plots were too crude to take seriously, and even more mere wishful thinking, yet the danger was there. Not all the plotters were fools, and one day one of them might succeed.
Finch grunted and took a gulp of wine. Bloody, popish whore! He'd like to have a day with her. She might not end up so damned haughty then. Why the hell didn't Elizabeth behead her and have done with it? God knows there had been excuses enough in the twelve years she had been kept prisoner in England.
That Mary was a prisoner was literally true, but she had more comfort and luxury in her captivity than most free Englishmen. Not for her the rack, the whip or the dungeon. She was housed in the best estates in the land and many felt that there was more than a little sympathy for her among her host-gaolers.
Beautiful, regal and feminine, she had never given up the idea of returning to the throne of Scotland and considered the throne of England rightfully hers as well. Although she pleaded total innocence of the plots to raise her to the place to which she aspired, few believed in her words.
Damn. How could Elizabeth, with all her acumen and hot, Tudor temper, be so soft? Prisoner or not, as long as Mary lived, she was a real threat.
There were few men at court who would have welcomed the change of reign. William Cecil Lord Burghley, would be the first to suffer, quickly followed by Walsingham, who had risen through his favour, and the Earl of Leicester.
Leicester had been convicted, with his father, the Duke of Northumberland, by Elizabeth's sister, Bloody Mary, of plotting a Protestant throne, and although he had been freed the following year, another Catholic queen might well feel more secure if his head lay on the chopping block.
Aside from the issue of war with Spain, Walsingham was constantly engaged in uncovering not only a plot to do away with Elizabeth and crown Mary Queen of England, but to uncover one in which the Scots bitch was clearly implicated herself. Only such blatant and clearly proven treason would drive Elizabeth to order her cousin's execution.
Only with her execution would the Protestant line be safe.
Even without a violent overthrow, there was the problem of succession. Elizabeth appeared healthy enough, but she would soon be past the child-bearing age, and showed no more inclination to marry, at any rate, than she ever had. Should she die before naming a successor, a thing she had so far refused to do, Mary would have a strong, legal claim on the throne.
Finch stood up and strolled across the lawn. He knew that it was a bit early to expect Sir David, but he wanted to get on with their plans. Only at court could he further his own ambitions. His estate here was comfortable, but by no means the sort of living he had in mind. Stories brought back by Raleigh, rapidly becoming the new court favorite, about his expeditions to the West Indies with his cousin, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, wetted many appetites. The tales of gold, silver, emeralds, slaves, to be had for the taking made Robert much discontented with his holdings here in the English countryside.
True, the privateers were doing well enough out of the looting of Caribbean shipping, but it was a mere pittance compared to the vast wealth in the ports and towns. At any rate, the life of a semi-pirate was not what Robert had in mind. A government post in an already captured colony was more to his liking. It was not that Finch was a coward. He was not. He had fought bravely and well with the Huguenots in France against Spain in 1569. Another reason for his hatred of the Spanish.
No, he was no coward, but he was no hot headed fool, either. Years had turned the fury of his youth to caution and he knew that much more was gained by planning than by rushing in headlong at the forefront of battle. He valued his life just as he did his comfort.
He stopped his stroll by a low hedge at the rear of the house and stood deep in thought.
A light, gay voice rose up to him and he realized that his niece was on the other side of the hedge.
He smiled and peeked over the top, taking care not to be seen.
Belinda was playing with her dog, a huge but friendly mastiff. He lay on his back while she tickled his stomach and chattered to him. She must have been tickling more than his stomach for the scarlet tip of his cock had pushed out of the protective sheath and jutted up at her.
Belinda spotted this change in his anatomy and her hand moved downward.
“Oh, what's this?” she laughed. She took hold of the red nob with her fingers and pushed the sheath further down the shaft. The dog wriggled under her hand.
“You like that, do you?” Belinda felt her thighs grow moist and a warm tingle start in the bottom of her belly. She knew that this was the part a man would one day stick into her and it excited her to fondle it even if it were only the cock of an animal. She moved her fingers back and forth and the cock pushed completely out of the sheath, swollen and hard. The dog whimpered and bucked.
“The perverted little bitch,” Robert thought. His own cock was hard and he pressed his hand against it as he watched Belinda teasing the dog. “If there were time, I'd fuck her right now. A hell of a thing when a beauty like that wastes her talent on a dog.” As he watched he thought how those light fingers would feel sliding up and down his own organ and clutched himself.
Unaware that she was being watched, Belinda continued her game. She bent her dark head lower to get a better look at the now jerking, thrusting penis and on a sudden whim stuck out her pointed tongue and licked the head.
Robert almost ejaculated in his pants and the dog thrust even harder as the cool tongue licked at his nob.
Suddenly Belinda jumped up, laughing.
“That's enough. I can't spend all day on your silly thing.” It would be much more fun to do that to a real man, but even with the dog it had excited her. Now she wanted to get away by herself where she could fondle in private the itch between her legs.
As she stood up, the dog rolled over and stood beside her. Thoroughly aroused, his bright red cock thrust out beneath him almost touching the grass. He jumped up on her almost knocking her over and wound his front legs around her, thrusting against the silky material of her dress.
With difficulty she pushed him away and started running toward a nearby summer house. The animal followed, tried to mount her again, but was pushed away and left to stand in frustration as the door of the summer house slammed behind his tormentor.
A moment later, Belinda's face appeared at the window, laughing.
“Can't catch me, Rex. Go take your big thing somewhere else.”
She disappeared, thinking that it might have been nice to let him do it to her. The only problem was that she didn't really know how one went about it and if she was going to let Rex put that pretty red thing inside her, she'd probably have to help. No, she'd just have to wait for a real man. She wriggled at the thought and slipped her hand up under her skirt.
Robert, who had witnessed the whole performance, was sorely tempted to go into the summer house after her.
“The little prick-teaser. God, I have a fellow feeling with that poor hound. She's left me in no better condition than he is. She'll pay for it, though.” He watched as the dog crossed the lawn, rubbing his burning organ on the cool grass. “After I've had her, maybe we'll give her to you, eh, Rex? God knows, you've earned her.” He thought of the great, shaggy dog mounting his pretty young niece, and vowed that he would have her that very night. His balls pressed so tight against his body that he feared they'd go right up into his stomach. God, how they ached! He'd have to pay her out thoroughly for the torture she was putting him to.
He heard a servant call and turned quickly. A carriage had pulled up in front of the house and he could see Sir David alighting.
For the moment thoughts of Belinda would have to be replaced with other matters.
Pulling his jacket well forward in an attempt to conceal the erection that still bulged out his pant leg, he strode across the lawn to receive his guest.
“So that's about how things stand at present.”
Sir David held out his glass as Robert refilled it.
“There may be more news when I get back to court, but either way, Walsingham needs all the competent, loyal men he can get.” He took a sip from his glass and set it on the table. “I'll be returning within the week, and if you are prepared to accompany me, I think it an excellent idea.” He leaned forward. “You're just the sort of man we need. Nobody knows you too well and you might be able to infiltrate the Catholic lines.” Robert answered eagerly.
“I'm entirely at your service. You've painted the picture very clearly, and I'm anxious to be of whatever use I can.”
“Don't rush things,” Sir David said. “At the moment we're playing a waiting game. The best thing for you to do for the next few months, is just get to know people around the court. Mix. Make friends.” He smiled. “Tell people what an ass your employer, Sir David Cassen, is.”
Robert laughed and Sir David continued. “When things do break, we don't want it to look suspicious for you to be seen in converse with certain people.”
Robert nodded. “I quite understand. From what you have told me, Raleigh is quickly gaining the queen's ear as well as her affections, but he doesn't sound like a man I'd trust too far.”
“Don't. At any rate, you're not too likely to have much to do with him.” Sir David frowned. “I have been in his company several times, and although he is charming when its suits him, and tells fascinating tales of his voyages, he is arrogant and self-seeking.”
“So I have heard.” Robert laughed. Sir David was an old friend and he could speak bluntly. “He is handsome, though. Our good queen still has an eye for a well turned-out male.”
Sir David grinned and took another sip of wine. Both men were devoted to the queen, but it was no secret that she was very much a woman. Her long passion for Leicester, which had scared the very devil out of her ministers who feared she might one day marry him for love, didn't keep her from admiring other young symbols of male charm and virility.
“Far be it from me to cast doubt on the authenticity of her virginity,” Sir David said sardonically, “But if it's a fact, she's one of the few left in England.” He stood up. “You know, she probably is still virgin, at that. She's much too shrewd to risk any scandal as dangerous as a pregnancy, for example. Anyway, there are ways enough to gain the joys of sex, without actual fornication.”
Seeing that his guest was preparing to leave, Robert stood up and waved to a servant standing by the steps on the other side of the lawn.
“How true. Well, whatever be the case, she's a fantastic woman and one of the greatest rulers this land has ever had.”
The servant approached and Robert ordered Sir David's coach to be brought to the front of the house.
“I shall send a messenger to let you know exactly when we are leaving, but you'd better begin your preparations immediately.”
“I have taken the liberty of seeing to much of the preparation already. I shall be ready to accompany you at a day's notice.”
“Good.” Sir David smiled. “I expect you are bringing that fascinating young ward of yours?”
“It would hardly be wise to leave her here alone,” he chuckled. “She's getting more beautiful every day.” And more brazen, he added to himself.
“Good. She will soon be a young lady, and Elizabeth's court holds many opportunities for beautiful young ladies.” He glanced sideways at his host. “Especially if they are clever-and discreet.”
Remembering thinking earlier that Belinda might prove useful at court, Robert was pleased to find that the idea had also entered Sir David's mind. They would discuss it further when the occasion arose. For the moment he only nodded.
“She is both.”
Sir David looked to where his carriage was waiting and quickened his step. He was quite satisfied with the afternoon's converse. They understood each other, these two men. Though both were sincerely concerned with the best interests of the country, they were also well aware that rich rewards awaited their service.
Robert waved as Sir David drove off.
It had been a good day and he could now start making plans to ensure that it would be a good night, as well.