In the Shadow of the Crown - Plaidy Jean - Страница 85

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“Your father's will stated that you must obey the Council. Northumberland told me.”

“Only where my possible marriage was concerned,” I retorted. “I believe the King, our father, ordered Masses for his soul each day, and this has not been done, so it would appear that it is Your Majesty and others who are not obeying the King's wishes.”

So the talk went back and forth for two hours, and we arrived nowhere, for I was determined not to give way; and my reception as I had ridden to London and that of the citizens of the capital had shown these men quite clearly that if they harmed me there would be an outcry from the people.

I turned to my brother and said that all that mattered to me was that my soul was God's. As to my body, they might use it as they pleased. They could take my life if they must… but my soul was God's, and it should remain so.

I could see the exasperation in the men who had hoped to break my spirit. But in truth I seemed now not afraid of death. Others had died for their faith. I thought of brave Anne Askew who had been tortured and burned at the stake. I thought of those noble monks who had suffered the most barbarous and humiliating of all deaths. They had undergone that dire penalty but they would be in Heaven now … glorified… saints who had died for their religion.

No, I can say that I was not afraid any more, and a lack of fear frustrates an enemy who are at heart cowards.

I went on, looking at Edward, “Do not believe those who speak evil of me. I always have been and always will be Your Majesty's obedient and loving sister.”

I remained at Court, wondering what effect this meeting would have. I believed that it had disconcerted Northumberland and bothered my brother.

Scheyfve came to see me a few days later. He told me he had sent a report of the meeting to his master and was waiting to hear the result. He had told the Emperor of my reception by the people and the manner in which I had stood for my religion.

“They must have come to the conclusion that I will not be moved,” I said. “I will remain true to my faith no matter what the consequences.”

Scheyfve nodded approvingly.

“I believe that it would be disastrous for you to change now,” he said.

“The effect on the people would be great. There were so many wearing rosaries, and it is my belief that they are waiting … waiting for the day. They are all true Catholics at heart, and they want to be led back to the true faith. It would not do for the one they look to as leader to show weakness now.”

“I will show no weakness,” I said.

“I know what I have to do.”

It was as when I was on the verge of the flight that I suddenly knew that I must stay. And now I knew what I had to do.

It was a week or so later when Scheyfve called again. He had heard from the Emperor, who had sent a letter to the Council. In it he had threatened war with England if the right to worship as I pleased was denied to me.

I was exultant. I was sure that I was going in the right direction.

IT WAS CHRISTMAS of that year 1552. I was not at Court but a few days after the festival I decided to call on my brother to wish him well. I had felt sorry for him when we had met in the Council for I knew that he was acting as Northumberland bade him and that his harsh words had given him as much pain as they had me.

In any case, the object of the meeting had been to stop my worshipping in the way I always had; and that had failed. Scheyfve said it was due to the Emperor's threat, and this was in some measure true; but I did believe that my reception by the people had some part in it; Northumberland must remember that, in accordance with my father's will, I was next in the line of succession.

I felt sure he would do all in his power to prevent my coming to the throne. I could see nothing short of death, for he knew that as soon as I had the power my first act would be to bring the country back to Rome.

I prayed for guidance. I must be careful now. Northumberland, the most powerful man in the country, dared not let me come to the throne.

When I arrived at Court, it was to learn that my brother was too ill to see anyone. This was not an excuse to avoid me. He had caught a chill and, in addition to his other ailments, this could be dangerous.

I was greeted with some respect by the Court. I saw speculation in the eyes of many. The King was ill. Moreover, he was suffering from several diseases. How could he possibly recover, and then…?

My sister Elizabeth was being very subdued. I guessed she was thinking that certain powerful men would never accept me as Queen. How could they were, all those men who had done everything they could to turn me from my religion, to browbeat me, to force me to deny the Mass. They would take her, she was thinking. They must take her. She was wily; she was clever; but she could not hide the ambition in her eyes.

The King's health did not improve. All through that winter he was hardly ever out of his bed. I heard horrifying reports of his illnesses, and I feared some of them were true. He coughed blood; his body was a mass of ulcers similar to those which had plagued the late King. He was on the point of death. No one was able to see him except his ministers. Parliament came to Whitehall because the King could not go to Westminster. It cannot be long, was being said all over the country, and then… what?

Lady Jane Grey came to see me at Newhall. She must have been about fifteen or sixteen years old at that time. She had a certain quiet charm but she was a clever girl of firm opinions. She was very sad at this time because of Edward's illness.

She talked about him a great deal. They had always been such good friends, and the happiest times of her life, she said, had been when they were together.

“Can it really be that he is dying?” she asked.

I replied that I could not say. Sometimes delicate people surprised everyone. They were often stronger than people thought and everyone was so intent on keeping them alive that they sometimes succeeded.

“We were so much together…”

“I know. He loved you as a sister.”

She nodded sadly.

I thought she was rather pathetic. She had had a sad childhood. Her parents had treated her with the utmost severity, I had heard. I remembered Mrs. Penn's indignantly saying that there were marks of physical punishment on her body. She had an air of frailty, but I guessed she would have a will of her own.

During that brief stay, she told me that her parents were proposing to marry her to Lord Guilford Dudley.

“Northumberland's son!”

She nodded. “He is the Duke's fourth son. It had to be he. The others are already married.”

I was aghast. It was clear that Northumberland wanted Jane in his family because she had royal blood through her mother, who was the daughter of Mary Tudor and Charles Brandon.

Jane was frightened at the idea. She did not want marriage yet, and she was in great awe of her prospective father-in-law. I wondered whether she would speak to my brother and ask him to intervene on her behalf. Of course, he was very much under Northumberland's influence, but on the other hand he was very fond of Jane.

I tried to soothe her by telling her of all the marriages which had been arranged for me, none of which had come to fruition.

She smiled wanly. “I think the Duke of Northumberland is very determined,” she said.

I was full of sympathy for the poor child but felt less so later when Lady Wharton, one of my ladies, told me what had happened in the chapel.

“I was passing through with Lady Jane,” she said. “There was no service in progress. As I passed the Host, I curtsied, as we always do.”

“Yes?” I asked, as she had paused. “And the lady Jane…? What was it she did?”

“She said to me, ‘Is the lady Mary here, that you curtsy? I did not see her.' I was amazed. I said, ‘But I curtsy to Him that made me.' Oh, my lady, I hesitate to say…”

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