He therefore sought an interview with Somerset. When he heard who was asking to see him Robert was angry, with the most violent of all anger—that born of fear.

The fellow must be sure of himself, since he asked an audience of him. Who did he think he was? Did he imagine that because he was a Gentleman of the Bedchamber he could become on friendly terms with the most important ministers?

Villiers came to him, his handsome face wearing an expression of humility.

“My lord,” he said, “it is good of you to grant me this interview. I come to ask that I may serve you in whatever way you choose for me so to do. I have always wanted to take my preferment under your favor. I offer myself to you as your most humble servant.”

Robert’s anger was suddenly uncontrollable, because he saw himself in this young man, as he had been in those early days when the King had become so enchanted by his grace and beauty. It was a cruel thing to be asked to witness oneself on the decline, the new star about to rise.

“Get you gone from my presence,” he said, his mouth tight, his eyes smoldering. “You shall enjoy no friendship or favor from me. One thing I will give you—and that is sound advice. Listen, fellow. Attempt to come creeping to me again and I’ll break your neck.”

“So this is how you keep your promises to me?” stormed Robert.