In the Shadow of the Crown - Plaidy Jean - Страница 80

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Warwick's star was rising, and Warwick was a very ambitious man who wanted to rule alone. Wriothesley, who had become Earl of Southampton, had never been a friend. He was at heart a follower of the old religion, though that was something he did not stress at this time. Warwick had scored a military success when he had put down the rising in Norfolk and was regarded as the better man by many people. Somerset, they said, had become Protector merely because he was the King's uncle. Warwick was organizing secret meetings, the object being to turn men against Somerset.

Realizing what was happening, the Protector sought to rally his friends and to his dismay found that few were loyal to him, and when the City of London turned against him he knew there was little he could do to save himself.

It was not long before he found himself in the Tower.

My brother Edward surprised me. He was supposed to be fond of his uncle but he made no move to speak for him. He accepted the imprisonment of his Uncle Edward as he had the death of Uncle Thomas—his favorite, I remembered.

Somerset put up little fight to defend himself. He had come to understand that governing a country was not as easy as he had thought. His listlessness suggested that he was eager to give up the thankless task, for he accepted all the complaints against himself, admitted failure and threw himself on the mercy of the Council.

The result was that he was deprived of his protectorate and of lands to the value of ?2,000. Then he was given a free pardon. How lucky he must have felt himself to be, to have escaped with his head. Perhaps this had come about through his meekness, but I believe that his enemies might have feared the effect his death would have on the people. In any case, he was freed, admitted to the Privy Council and made a gentleman of the King's bedchamber.

Warwick clearly did not want open warfare between them at that stage and, to prove that there was no enmity between them, shortly afterward Somerset's eldest daughter married Warwick's eldest son, Viscount Lisle.

This seemed very amicable. I wondered if it occurred to Somerset that things are sometimes not what they seem.

I did not feel very easy in my mind at the thought.

ELIZABETH WAS NOW at Court. I heard that she was made much of there. I had not been invited. I should have been a little worried if I had been, but it was not difficult to understand what this new favor to Elizabeth was all about.

I was not sure what her religious views were, but I guessed they would be trimmed to the order of the day. She had said, “What does it matter how one worships God, as long as He is worshipped? Do you think He minds?”

That seemed utter blasphemy to me; and it was said with an innocence of which I did not think my sister capable.

The King was a Protestant and, the laws of the country being in favor of that religion, Elizabeth would be a Protestant. That was what the Council liked. Edward's health was deteriorating. Who next? they were asking. Mary, to plunge us back to Rome? Or Elizabeth, who will be quite accommodating?

Clearly it must be Elizabeth.

The King, I heard, was devoted to her. She would know how to sweeten him. She was brazen. Most young girls would have hidden themselves away after what had happened with Seymour. But now Seymour was dead and it might be that soon his brother would be, too. I would not trust Warwick. Elizabeth would behave as though she had never been involved in that unsavory scandal and would doubtless have everyone believing that she was an innocent and simple girl. Not so innocent. Never simple. I could imagine her, smug and content, attracting attention with her bright reddish hair and witty manner. The King would be entranced and she was in her element.

But I could not be forgotten. What did they plan for me?

I had not disliked Somerset. He was at heart a good man, I believed. He had been overcome by ambition and had seen his fortunes change when Jane pleased the King; but now they were changing again, for he had reckoned without the wily Warwick. One could never know what Warwick was planning.

I was now certain that, if my brother Edward was near to death, they would seek to remove me. Should I suddenly awake one night to find myself ill after eating something… drinking some wine?

I was an encumbrance. They knew my mind, I had made that clear. I was not of their faith. They knew I would seek to bring back the old religion and return England to Rome; and if I succeeded, what would become of these men who had followed my father and gone on to what he had never intended?

I became very much afraid. I was constantly reminding myself of the task which had been given to me. I had to save my country, and these men would do everything in their power to thwart me; and the only way to be sure of doing this would be to remove me.

I became obsessed with the notion that they were planning my death. I would wake in the night trembling, imagining hired assassins creeping into my bedchamber. I remembered the little princes in the Tower. They had been sleeping in their beds, it was said, when men crept in and placed pillows over their faces. I would start at every footfall; when messengers came, I would think they brought a warrant for my arrest. I remembered so well those terrible days when Catharine Howard had feared her death was imminent. I understood how she had suffered.

I had my mission. I must save myself if possible, and each day I was believing myself to be in more and more acute danger.

To whom could I look for help? There was only one who could save me, whose influence had been a beneficial source to me all my life; my cousin, the Emperor.

I recalled those days when I had thought I was to be his bride. I had never forgotten standing at the stairs with my mother, while the barge carrying him, with my father, came in. He was arriving to claim his bride, and that bride was myself. I could see him now, a pale, serious young man in black velvet and a gold chain, looking serene and dignified beside my glittering father. He had taken my hands and smiled kindly. I was in love with him; or I believed I was because my women told me so.

He had wanted to take me back to Spain, but my parents would not allow that. If I had gone, I might have been his wife these many years.

He had given me a ring as a token, saying the ring was a sign of his regard for me. If ever I was in distress and apart from him and sent him the ring, he would do all in his power to help me.

I still had that ring. I took it out and an idea came to me. Now was the time to send it.

I wrote to Francois van der Delft and asked him to come to me.

Before he could reach me, I received an invitation to go to Court for Christmas. My brother wished me to join the family. Elizabeth would be there, and I should be, too.

A fit of trembling seized me. I knew what this meant. There would be religious ceremonies, and I should be forced to observe the new ways. I should be deprived of the Mass. I was being asked not because I was a member of the family but because they wanted to show me I must conform.

“I will not,” I said to myself. “I will not deny my faith.”

So I could not go to Court. I told them that my state of health prevented my traveling.

Van der Delft arrived.

I told him of my anxieties. He was well aware of them and agreed that the situation was highly dangerous.

He said, “The King's doctors are worried about him. His health does not improve. He suffers from a persistent cough, and he has grown very thin.”

“Somerset is without power,” I said. “It is all in the hands of Warwick.” Van der Delft nodded.

“They have asked me to go to Court for Christmas,” I told him.

I saw the alarm come into his eyes.

“You know why, I see,” I said. “It is to make me conform to their way of worship. I will not, Ambassador. I will not.”

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