In the Shadow of the Crown - Plaidy Jean - Страница 86

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“Please go on,” I said.

“She replied as though in all innocence, ‘But did not the baker make Him?' My lady, she was referring to the bread and wine…”

“I know to what she was referring. It is what she has been brought up to, Lady Wharton. Perhaps we should not blame her.”

“But such sacrilege, my lady… and in a holy place…”

“She was brought up with my brother,” I said. “It is the way they would have things throughout the country now.”

Lady Wharton looked at me earnestly, “Mayhap it will not always be so.”

“Hush,” I warned her. “You should not say such things…even here… even to me.”

We were silent but I could see she was asking herself the same question that I was asking myself.

What will happen next? We could not know. But we knew something must happen soon.

I HEARD NEWS of Lady Jane. I was sorry for her. She was little more than a child. She had no wish for marriage, and she seemed to be as much in fear of her future father-in-law as she was of her own parents. The girl had some spirit. Perhaps she drew that from her religion, for after that outburst in the chapel I tried to discover more about her convictions and learned they were very strong. She and my brother were alike in that; and misguided though she was in her faith, it might have helped her endure her hard life.

Susan told me she had heard how the girl resisted, declaring she would not marry, and how she had been beaten, starved and locked away until they feared for her health, for she would be no use to their schemes if she were dead.

All the same, the marriage took place in May, and at the same time Jane's sister Catharine—who was younger than she—was married to Lord Herbert, the Earl of Pembroke's son; and Northumberland's daughter, another Catharine, was married to Lord Hastings, son of the Earl of Huntingdon.

There was, of course, a method in these marriages. They were bringing together the most powerful families whose thoughts must be running in one direction. Edward's death was imminent, and they planned some drastic action. I could guess that action meant disaster for me, and I could think of only one solution which would bring them what they wanted; and that was my death.

I must be careful. If ever I was going to achieve my mission, everything would depend on how I acted now.

I wished that I could have seen my brother. I knew that the reports of his illness were not exaggerated; he must have been very sick indeed at that time. I had been so fond of him when he was younger and before religion had become such an impassable barrier to our friendship. I wanted to explain to him that I could not give up my faith any more than he could give up his. I thought I might have made him understand. He had a logical brain; he was extremely learned; but people were obdurate concerning religion. Perhaps I was myself. It was just that one knew one was right. It was a fusion of something divine… difficult to explain. No doubt he believed he had that divine guidance as I did.

But at least we could have talked.

He wanted to be a good king. He cared deeply about the poor and those in distress. He had decided that his palace at Bridewell should be given as a resort for those poor people who had no means of making a living for themselves. He had thought of poor children who, though they might be clever enough, received no education because their parents were too poor to give it to them. The monasteries had been suppressed, and that of Grey Friars was empty. Why should it not be used as a school for poor scholars? It was called Christ's Hospital. I heard it gave my brother great pleasure that he had done these things. Then there were the sick. He would set up a hospital at St. Thomas's where the poor could be treated free. He was sure the people of London would willingly help him to keep these charitable institutions in existence.

He cared for the people. He was good at heart—but oh so sick and weary of life, I knew. And he was in the hands of ambitious men.

I was frustrated. I was sure the rumors of his failing health were true; and that was of vital importance to me.

If only Chapuys had been here to advise me, or even the worthy Francois van der Delft; Scheyfve tried hard but his English was poor, and consequently he did not always understand what was going on.

Antoine de Noailles, the French ambassador, was a shrewd man, more of a spy, I fancied, than an ambassador; and as I was never sure on whose side the French would be, I felt alone and afraid.

Northumberland was expressing friendship toward me now. He sent me details of the King's illness—not that I always believed them; but his motive was to let me know that he was my friend. Did he mean he thought I should soon be his sovereign? When and if I were, he must have known I should never trust him. When he wrote to me, he addressed me with the full title which had not been accorded to me since my father put my mother from him: Princess of England. But how sincere was he?

Susan had heard a disquietening rumor that the Attorney General, Lord Chief Justice Montague, was at odds with Northumberland concerning a delicate issue.

“It is monstrous,” said Susan, “and I cannot believe it is true.”

She was hesitating, trying to put off telling me because she feared it would be a great shock to me. But at length it came.

“The King has decided to leave the crown not to his sisters, because they are children of marriages whose validity is in question… but to the heirs of the Lady Mary Tudor, sister to his father.”

I stared at Susan in disbelief. “That's impossible!” I cried.

She looked at me steadily. “The crown is to go to Lady Jane Dudley.”

“I… see. This is Northumberland's doing. He will make Jane Queen and Guilford Dudley King. And that means Northumberland will rule over us.”

“Montague says he will alter the succession… and that is treason. But then Northumberland replied that the late King did it.”

“That is not true,” I cried. “The crown passed to Edward after him, and Edward is his son and rightful heir. I am next and after me Elizabeth. That is what my father ordered.”

“So says Montague.”

“Then…”

She looked at me solemnly. “Montague has been browbeaten. He is a poor sick old man, and such do not wish to be embroiled in these matters.

They do not want to spend their last days in the Tower. They want peace, which can come only with acquiescence.”

“It can never be.”

“So think I. The people will not have it.”

“What then?”

“My lady, it will not be for you to choose… but for the people to do that when the time comes.”

“They will seek to destroy me before that.”

“I think we should make plans to get as far from London as possible “But they will proclaim Jane!”

“The people will not have her.”

“She stands for the Protestants.”

“There are many who want to return to the old way of worshipping. Everything will depend on that.”

“Northumberland is determined. He has gone so far he cannot now turn back. It may be that his ambitions will destroy him.”

“We must see that they do before he destroys you.”

I was very sad that my brother could be led so far from his duty as to proclaim Jane heiress to the throne. She was little more than a child but he knew she would uphold the faith which he so fanatically supported. And he was completely under the influence of Northumberland.

My poor little brother! I must not blame him. He was like a poor feeble old man who has never been young. I sometimes thought it would be a happier state to be born poor and humble than under the shadow of the crown.

I WAS AT HUNSDON awaiting news. I heard that rumors persisted in the streets of London and that people were put in the pillory for saying the King was dead.

If he were not dead, he was close to death.

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