The Fallen Queen (25 page)

No, Father,
no!
I sobbed into my pillow as I pounded it with my fists in pure frustration.
Guildford is meant for Jane! How can they ever become a loving couple if you come between them?

The next morning there was no sign of Father, and when I discreetly inquired if perchance he had arrived during the night, I was met with blank and puzzled stares from the servants. Clearly his clandestine visit was intended for one person alone—Guildford.

5

O
n the ninth day of July, 1553, the country idyll, and with it Jane’s self-imposed sulking isolation, came to an abrupt end when Lady Mary Sidney arrived, her barge gliding silently up to Chelsea like a black swan darkly silhouetted against a glowing orange sunset. She had come bearing orders from her father, the mighty Northumberland, to bring Jane and Guildford to Syon House “to receive that which has been ordered for you by the King.” More than that she would not say, not even when my sister stamped her foot and demanded, imperiously as a queen, that she be told for what and why she was being summoned.

Guildford did not bother to ask questions. Excited as a child over the idea of an outing, he ran back inside to change his clothes. When he returned, elegantly garbed for travel, with Fluff purring in his arms, he paused to kiss his sister’s cheek and called back casually to his valet to follow directly with his things, then settled himself comfortably in the barge, languorously against the velvet cushions, ready to be off. “This place begins to bore me,” he declared, nonchalantly trailing his fingers through the water.

But, ever balky, endowed with a stubbornness that put every mule in Christendom to shame, Jane resisted, digging her heels in and claiming that she could not go, she was too ill to obey the Duke’s summons even if the King commanded it. She tugged, slapped, and fought against the determined hand Mary Sidney clasped around Jane’s delicate wrist as she endeavoured to pull her across the grass to the water stairs, urgently insisting that Jane
must
obey. “It is necessary for you to come with me, Jane; Father said you must come even if I must give orders to have you bound and carried into the barge, you
must
come
now!
”

With an anguished cry, Jane took refuge in unconsciousness and fell fainting to the ground. Before I could reach her, Mary Sidney had already summoned four of the bargemen, clad in the Dudleys’ blue velvet livery with their proud emblem of a bear clutching a ragged staff emblazoned on their chests and sleeves. They easily lifted Jane up, a featherlight burden in her flowing grey silk gown, with her arms outstretched, and her legs straight, like Christ nailed to the cross, and gently carried her to the barge. They laid her on the cushions beside Guildford, who flicked some water onto her moon-pale face on which her freckles stood out like cinnamon stars, Guildford observed, adding languidly that if mathematics didn’t bore him he would be tempted to attempt to count them. His sister did not dally; she clasped me beneath my armpits, despite my protests at this indignity, and nigh threw me into the barge, then climbed in herself and gave the order to “
Row!
Take us to Syon House!” as we crouched around Jane, rubbing her hands and fanning her, imploring her to open her eyes.

“Yes,” Guildford drawled, “it is such a beautiful sunset; you really should look at it. Lying down as you are, you have the most splendid view; I almost envy you, but I don’t want to take off my hat, it’s so beautiful, or rumple my hair after all the hours I spent on these curls. But”—he heaved a martyr-worthy sigh—“methinks beautiful things—like me—are wasted on you; you just don’t know how to appreciate the finer things in life—like me.” With those words he snapped open the yellow enamelled comfit box Father had given him and began nibbling daintily upon a sugared lemon.

I opened the collar of the white lawn partlet that modestly filled the low black-braid bordered square bodice of Jane’s dove grey gown and pressed a damp handkerchief to her throat. She felt feverish to my touch, and I feared the nerve-induced illness that had lately plagued her was returning with a swift vengeance. Mary Sidney quickly poured a goblet of spiced red wine, and as Jane moaned and her eyelids began to flutter, lifted her head and urged her to drink.

Jane sat up, sputtering wine and demanding that we turn around and take her back to Chelsea at once.
“I order you!”
she screamed, hurling the goblet of wine at the bargemen, and balling her hands into fists and futilely hammering them and her heels against the floor, but they, being Northumberland’s men, ignored her, and Guildford petulantly ordered her, “Do sit still, Jane. You’re rocking the boat and will bring on the
mal de mar
—that means seasickness,” he added helpfully.

“I
know
it means seasickness. I speak perfect French, you nitwit!” Jane spat back at him. “And it’s not
mal de mar.
It’s
mal de mer!
”

“Who cares?” Guildford shrugged, selecting another sugared lemon from his comfit box. “It’s not the spelling that matters, only the meaning. And everything I say is very meaningful; isn’t that so, Mary?” He turned to his sister for confirmation.

“Yes, dear,
very
insightful
and
meaningful,” she promptly agreed, and our little voyage continued in bored, curious, and angry silence, making the two hours it really took seem like an eternity for all of us.

It was after nightfall when we arrived at the erstwhile convent of Syon that the Duke of Northumberland had converted into a country estate for himself as it was situated conveniently near London, so he need never stray too far from the throne and the puppet king whose strings he pulled. We passed through a long, torchlit corridor in which the grey stone walls were covered with ornate gold-fringed tapestries. The house seemed curiously silent, which had the unnerving effect of making our footsteps sound inordinately loud, and strangely deserted for a nobleman’s house; there seemed to be no one, not one single servant, about to welcome or attend us. Just as Guildford was complaining that such laxity deserved the horsewhip, a door at the end of the corridor swung open and the Duke of Northumberland emerged, smiling broadly, to welcome Jane as though she were the only one there and the rest of us were invisible. Guildford was so astonished he couldn’t even speak.

I watched my sister shy warily away from her father-in-law with fear and mistrust filling her eyes. But he ignored this and led her on, as we tentatively and uncertainly followed, through the door, into a room lit by hundreds of candles with a dais and gilded chair, clearly a makeshift throne, beneath a gold fringed scarlet canopy, at the far end. It was obviously a presence chamber intended for someone great and important to receive visitors or hear petitions.

As soon as Jane entered there was a great rustling as men and women, high born nobles all in fine array, and men who were clearly members of the King’s Council in somber black robes and the heavy golden chains of office they were so proud to wear, broke apart and moved to stand in a double row, facing each other, clearing a path leading up to the throne. As Jane passed them, the ladies curtsied low and the men knelt, all of them murmuring soft and reverent words such as “sovereign lady,” “Your Grace,” “Majesty,” “Your Highness,” and “our gracious queen.”

Jane gasped and leapt back and stumbled against Guildford’s chest. From his arms, Fluff gave a loud hiss and, claws bared, slashed an indignant snowy paw at Jane’s head, tearing the black veil hanging from her hood. “Now see what you’ve done!” Guildford petulantly wailed. “You’ve upset Fluff!” Whereupon he shoved her forward, as his father rushed to reclaim her hand and, walking backward, guided her, like a man pulling on the bridle of the most recalcitrant mule, to the throne even as Jane, meek and pale-faced, shaking with fear, repeating,
“No, no, no!”
dug in her heels and tried to wrench free, turn, and run away.

But Guildford wouldn’t let her; he stayed right behind her and made sure she kept moving forward. “You cannot run away from this honour. It is your destiny, Jane,” he said, patting her shoulder. “But don’t worry, you have me, and I shall be glad to share it with you. We’re young and beautiful and everyone will love us, once we do something about those plain, drab clothes of yours, of course; they’re
so
dreary, no wonder you’re so melancholy. And I
really
think you should have a henna rinse as soon as possible. Picture us standing side by side in the sun, you with your red hair and me with my golden. The people shall worship and adore us!”

I wanted to go to her, but Mary Sidney grabbed my shoulder and drew me back to join the others and gestured for me to follow her example and curtsy. Farther down the line, I saw Kate, standing between the Earl of Pembroke, in his long black robe and heavy gold chain, and frail, flaxen-haired Berry clad head to toe in the most delicate blue. Kate looked radiant in a beautiful gold-braided garnet satin gown with her hair glowing and free-flowing, dancing down her back like a cascade of crackling flames. Feeling my eyes upon her, she leaned forward and looked down the line, and when she saw me, her face brightened and she fluttered her fingers in a merry little wave before, at Berry’s nudging, straightening her back and assuming a properly dignified pose.

“As head of the Council,” Northumberland gravely intoned as he pulled the reluctant and tearful Jane along, “I do now declare the death of his most blessed and gracious Majesty, King Edward VI …”

Jane gasped loudly and staggered, and for a moment I feared she would faint. I noticed then that she was the only one who seemed surprised by this news; no one else reacted at all. Then our parents, smiling broader than I had ever before seen them, came from where they had been standing nearest the dais, to embrace and kiss Jane’s cheeks. Beaming as he embraced her, Father declared that he was so proud of her, that she was the shining star of the House of Grey, and even though he had been disappointed at her birth that she was not a boy, she had with this newly attained glory atoned for that more than a thousand times over.

Northumberland cleared his throat loudly, and our parents resumed their places, and, oblivious to Jane’s astonishment and distress, he continued his speech.

“We have cause to rejoice for the virtuous and praiseworthy life that His Majesty hath led, as also for his very good death. Let us take comfort by praising his prudence and goodness, and for the very great care he hath taken of his kingdom at the close of his life, having prayed God to defend it from the rule of his evil sisters.

“His Majesty hath weighed well an Act of Parliament wherein it was already resolved that whosoever should acknowledge the Lady Mary or the Lady Elizabeth and receive them as heirs of the Crown should be had for traitors, one of them having formerly been disobedient to His Majesty’s father, King Henry VIII, and also to himself concerning the true religion. Wherefore in no manner did His Grace wish that they should be his heirs, he being in every way able to disinherit them.”

As Jane shrank back from him in horror, still breathlessly murmuring, “No, No, No!” Northumberland, with a firm, unshakable grip, forced her up the steps of the dais, with a little help from Guildford, who gave a hard push to her rump. Poor Jane would have fallen face-first into the purple velvet cushions had Northumberland not deftly caught her beneath her arms and spun her around and sat her down properly.

“His Majesty hath named Your Grace as the heir to the Crown of England,” he announced, moving to stand beside the throne and gesturing for Guildford to do the same, as he calmly clamped a hand on Jane’s shoulder when she attempted to bolt up from her unwanted seat. “Your sisters shall succeed you if you should happen to die without issue …”

With these words, Kate suddenly became more important than she had ever been in her life, or ever imagined she would be, except to the man who loved her. Everyone turned to look at her, to appraise her, with calculating and conniving eyes, considering how she could best serve their interests. Until Jane birthed a child, or if she proved barren, or her babies died, Kate would be the heir to the throne. From now on, people would praise, admire, and flatter her more than ever before when it was only for her beauty, and they would look to her for favours and beg her to intercede with Jane or bring their petitions to her attention. Kate was now a young woman of
great
importance, after Jane, the highest ranking lady in the land, and I sincerely hoped Berry would be able to help her bear the weight that was about to descend upon her pretty shoulders.