Even in those early days, his name was as often coupled with Elizabeth’s as with the Queen’s, and at the beginning of August, the imperial ambassadors told Mary that Courtenay and her sister were in collusion. They were careful also to keep her informed of his new way of life, which caused her great indignation, though de Noailles persisted in declaring that she was so deeply enamoured of him, that she would put up with all his licentiousness, and marry him in spite of everything. Unfounded as these assertions were, they gained considerable credence at home and abroad, and Prosper de Sainte Croix wrote to Cardinal del Monte, that it was very likely that the Queen of England would decide on Courtenay as a husband, as she had lately given him a diamond worth 16,000 crowns, which King Henry used to wear. But while Mary declared in public, that it was not to her honour to marry a subject, she told her friends privately that his immorality would alone prove a sufficient barrier. The French ambassador was not so blinded by his illusion, as not to perceive that Courtenay was fast ruining whatever prospects he might have had, and with facile diplomacy he caught the ball at the rebound, and still carried on the game in the interests of France. If Mary’s disappointed suitor were not to be a convenient foil to Spain, by marrying the Queen, he might still be valuable as a name to conjure with in connection with Elizabeth. If only he were a little more enterprising and a trifle less timid, Courtenay and Elizabeth might well lay themselves out for popularity among the discontented Protestants. De Noailles entertained him at a banquet, under cover of his belonging to the Queen’s Privy Council, flattered and encouraged him, and let fall a few tentative words, to the effect that he should push his fortunes. A few days later, Courtenay was seen leaving the French ambassador’s house disguised, at midnight.