The Hawk and the Dove by Virginia Henley Page B

sisters’ direction when she was being fitted for her wedding gown.
    Finally she was having her choice honored and she had chosen a cream-colored satin embroidered all over with pearllike beads. She would have a cream lace half-ruff, so she could wear her glorious hair down in display for her bridegroom, and when she tried it on and preened in front of the looking glass, the copper curls sat on the ruff as pretty as a wedding cake!
    Sabre could not help rubbing raw the nerves of her sisters and cousins when she saw their mouths tighten with envy. She laughed when their whispers reached her ears; it would take more than their venom to ruin her wedding day; in fact, she believed nothing on earth could spoil it for her.
    She walked about in a dreamlike trance thinking of the bridegroom who would come to claim her. Her thoughts were obsessed with him as she envisioned his height, his hair, his eyes, his mouth, his hands, and then she would shiver with excitement. His manners would be courtly, for he was used to the company of the glorious queen of England, another magnificent being her imagination gifted with all the graces. Someday in the not-too-distant future he would become Lord Devonport and he would transform her into Lady Devonport. She was breathless at the thought of it, though it saddened her that his dear father must depart this earth before it became a reality.
    She displayed her small trousseau of busks, petticoats, night rails, slippers, and one traveling outfit to her cousins, and when they pointed out how meager it seemed, she waved her hand airily and explained her husband would provide her with a whole new wardrobe in London, for the fashions of the court were far ahead of anything that Gloucester could provide. The styles were so daring at court, she told them, that worn elsewhere they would create a scandal. Each and every female was consumed with envy, for they knew Sabre Wilde was quite capable of creating a scandal, daring fashions or no.
    Hawkhurst and Drake sat on the balcony of the Grapes in Narrow Street. It jutted out over the Thames, affording them a clear view of the river and its traffic.
    “I can confirm the rumors of Philip’s Great Armada. It is being built at Cadiz,” said Hawkhurst in low tones.
    “Of course! Cadiz is so well hidden,” said Drake, his eyes flashing with the intensity of his feelings for the subject. “I scouted the Bay of Biscay from San Sebastian to La Coruña, then all down the coast of Portugal to Lisbon, and found nothing!”
    “Philip is raping Mexico and Peru of silver and gold and is pouring it into ships to conquer England.”
    “Have you told the queen?” asked Drake.
    Hawkhurst shook his head. “Pointless, Francis. You know she has a woman’s fear of war and accuses us of inciting Philip’s hatred for our own glorification. Essex gets the full force of her wrath each time he brings up the subject of war. She disassociates herself from our pirating Spanish treasure, pretending ignorance of our actions, though she is quick enough to hold out her hand for the profits.”
    Drake nodded his agreement. How many times had he argued with Elizabeth until he was blue in the face? All to little or no avail. “We’d do better to furnish the information to Walsingham and Cecil,” he said decisively.
    Hawkhurst inwardly blanched at the mention of the queen’s secretary, Walsingham, then replied, “You see Walsingham and I’ll talk with Cecil.”
    The two men operated quite differently. Hawkhurst believed you should always cloak your real desires, think twice before you spoke a word, and never ask directly for what you wanted, while Drake, the son of a country parson, was respectably married and honest and open to a fault. On the other hand, he was a genius at sea and Hawkhurst would choose his company over any otherwhen a Spanish man-of-war was firing cannonballs up your arse!
    A Hawkhurst merchant ship arrived in London bringing messages from Georgiana and his