....How was he to handle this woman? Not yet 18 and willing to stand up even to the Queen. And God, she was so beautiful. Look at her now, her back straight against the seat, the tears welling out of her eyes, her lovely lips quivering. Then see them tighten, and her chin rise, as she gains back her courage once more. A man could grow very fond of this Viola, Lady Wessex, if she would give him half the chance. What was Shakespeare but an ink stained poet...a mere actor from the wrong side of the Thames. He was worth more than a thousand Shakespeares! Why, his land alone in Virginia would bring her riches, if he could get buyers interested in the tobacco.
Then he hardened once again as he remembered the humiliation he had just faced. The queen laughing at him...all of them watching HIS wife go to meet her lover, while he was made to stand by the empty carriage -- Queen gone, company gone, and he quite alone - except for that dammed dirty urchin with the rats. God! What a memory!
When they were on ship, in their cabin, he would show her who was the master.....He would bend her to HIS will. He would break her, as she needed to be broken if ever she was to make him a proper wife. But still, deep inside, a small part of him longed for her to love him as truly as she had loved the Poet.
So -- on they rode, to what kind of life they could not know nor imagine.....