In the Shadow of the Crown - Plaidy Jean - Страница 54

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There were many opportunities of meeting him, and Margaret Bryan said I was fortunate. It was not many royal princesses who had the blessing to fall in love with their husband before their marriage.

Margaret was now looking after Edward and, as she had Elizabeth with her, she was happy. Moreover, my position had improved so considerably that she no longer felt the anxieties she once had with her charges.

How I wished that the Countess could be with me! I should have loved to visit her in the Tower and take some comforts to her, but that of course was out of the question. I could not get news of her, much as I tried. She was constantly in my thoughts though.

Young Edward's household was at this time at Havering-atte-Bower. He was quite a serious little boy, already showing an interest in books. He adored Elizabeth, who was so different from himself. Full of vitality, she was so merry and constantly dancing; she was imperious and demanded Edward's attention, which he gave willingly.

“You should see his little face light up when his sister comes in,” said Margaret fondly.

I did see what she meant. There was that quality about Elizabeth.

I was happy to be part of this family, scattered as it was, and living, as I often thought, on the edge of disaster. Neither Elizabeth nor I knew when we would be in or out of favor.

The New Year was a pleasant one, apart from those recurring memories of the Countess and a slight apprehension about my prospective bridegroom and his heresy… though I had to admit that, so charming was he, I was lulling myself into an acceptance of that. I would convert him to the true Faith, I promised myself, which helped me indulge in daydreams of what marriage with him would be like.

I enjoyed being with the family that Christmas and New Year.

Elizabeth was always short of clothes, and Margaret was in a state of resentment about this; she was constantly asking for garments for her and grew very angry when there was no response. So, for a New Year's gift, I gave the child a yellow satin kirtle. It had been rather costly but I was glad I had not stinted in any way when I saw how delighted she was. I have never known anyone express her feelings so openly as Elizabeth did. Her joy was spontaneous. She held the kirtle up to her small body and danced round the room with it. Edward watched her and clapped his hands; and Margaret fell into a chair laughing.

For Edward I had a crimson satin coat, embroidered with gold thread and pearls. He was just past two at this time and a rather solemn child, completely overpowered by Elizabeth. Elizabeth declared the coat was magnificent. She made him put it on and, taking his hands, danced with him round the chamber.

Margaret watched with some apprehension. Everyone was perpetually worried that Edward might exert himself too much. If he had a slight cold they were all in a panic. They feared the King's wrath if anything should happen to this precious child.

Elizabeth was very interested to hear about the new Queen.

“I want to meet her,” she said. “She is, after all, my stepmother, is she not? I should meet her.”

I often wondered how much she knew. She was only a child—not seven years old yet; but there was something very mature beneath the gaiety— watchful almost. She was certainly no ordinary six-year-old.

When I was alone with Margaret, she told me that Elizabeth had begged her to ask her father's permission to see the new Queen. The King had replied that the Queen was so different from her own mother that she ought not to wish to see her; but she might write to Her Majesty.

And had she done this? I asked Margaret.

“She never misses an opportunity. I have the letter here but I have not sent it yet. I suppose it is all right to send it as she has the King's permission; but I should like you to see it and consider that it is the work of a child not yet seven years old.”

She produced the letter.

“Madam,” Elizabeth had written, “I am struggling between two contending wishes—one, my impatient desire to see Your Majesty, the other that of rendering the obedience I owe to the King, my father, which prevents me from leaving my house until he has given me permission to do so. But I hope that I shall shortly be able to gratify both these desires. In the meantime, I entreat Your Majesty to permit me to show, by this billet, the zeal with which I devote my respect to you as my Queen, and my entire obedience to you as my mother. I am too young and too feeble to have power to do more than felicitate you with all my heart in this commencement of your marriage. I hope that Your Majesty will have as much good will for me as I have zeal for your service…”

It was hard to believe that one so young could have written such a letter.

“Surely someone helped her,” I said.

“No…no…it is not so. She would be too impatient. She thinks she knows best.”

I marvelled with Lady Bryan but she told me that she had ceased to be surprised at Elizabeth's cleverness.

Later, when they did meet, Anne was completely charmed. I daresay she had been eager to meet the six-year-old writer of that letter. Her affection for the child was immediate, and she told me that if the Princess Elizabeth had been her daughter, it would have given her greater happiness than being Queen. Of course, being Queen brought her little happiness, but she did mean that she had a very special feeling for Elizabeth, and as soon as she was acknowledged as my father's wife she had the girl seated opposite her at table and accompanying her at all the entertainments.

It was decreed that I should spend some time with her. I was to talk to her in English and try to instruct her in that language. I should acquaint her with our customs. This I did and came to know her very well; I grew fond of her and, during that time when she was wondering what would become of her, because it was quite clear that she did not please the King, having suffered myself, I could sympathize with her.

I was wondering whether my father would actually marry her. But there was no way out. It had been proved that Anne had entered into no contract with any man and therefore was perfectly free. My father's three previous wives were all dead. There was no impediment.

My father must have been the most reluctant bridegroom in the world. He said to Cromwell just before the ceremony, “My lord, if it were not to satisfy the world and my realm, I would not do what I have to do this day for any earthly thing.”

Words which boded no good to Cromwell, who had been responsible for getting him into this situation—nor to his poor Queen, who was the victim of it.

I was present at the wedding. My father looked splendid in his satin coat, puffed and embroidered and with its clasp of enormous diamonds; and he had a jeweled collar about his neck. But even the jewels could not distract from his gloomy countenance.

Anne was equally splendid in cloth of gold embroidered with pearls; her long flaxen hair was loose about her shoulders.

And so the marriage was celebrated.

There was feasting afterward. I soon learned that the marriage had not been consummated. It was common knowledge, for the King made no secret of it. In his own words, he had no heart for it, and he was already looking for means of ridding himself of Anne.

Because I was close to her at that time, I knew of her anxieties. The King was no longer trying to hide the revulsion she aroused in him. She was quite different from all his other wives. She was not learned like my mother; she was not witty and clever like Anne; she was not pretty and docile like Jane.

I sensed the speculation in the air. What did he do with wives when he wanted to be rid of them? Would he dare submit her to the axe? On what pretext? He was adept at finding reasons for his actions. Was her brother, the Duke of Cleves, powerful enough to protect her? Hardly, when the Emperor Charles had not been able to save his aunt.

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