The Fallen Queen Part 6

"Your crown, my queen!" Kate said as she set the ornate, towering floral coronet on Jane's head and I thrust a large bouquet into her hand. "Come, your king awaits!" Kate urged as she took Jane's hand and began tugging her toward Guildford. To my surprise, Jane didn't balk but nodded and began to follow, meek and docile as one of the sheep watching these curious goings-on from a distance. I, cheerfully playing the part of trainbearer, ran behind and caught up Jane's train and, with a wave of my arm, motioned for the musicians to join us. Surrounded by sprightly music, walking on a soft carpet of green gra.s.s studded with daisies, clover, and dandelions, with plump black and yellow honeybees buzzing around our ankles, we escorted our sister to her bridegroom.

There, on that glorious June day, in the lax formality of the meadow at Chelsea, far removed from the luxurious environs of Durham House where she had been married in a golden gown, Jane, with a guttural cry and a pa.s.sionate lurch, flung her bouquet high in the air and lunged fiercely into the arms of Guildford Dudley and crushed her lips against his with bruising pa.s.sion. He gripped her tightly and returned her kisses with equal fervour as we all cheered and the men tossed their caps and the women flung flowers in the air.

"Our work is done," Kate said as we exchanged a satisfied nod. We joined hands and skipped back to the wine cask to click our cups and drink a toast to the bride and groom and offer our heartiest thanks to Madame Astarte and her "pa.s.sion potion."

While we sat on the gra.s.s, sipping our wine, Kate told me of her clandestine visit to the old gypsy witch in one of London's grimy back alleys. She described the ancient crone, dirty and stinking of garlic, stale, unwashed flesh, and sweat, who painted her old, wrinkled face with bold paint like a wh.o.r.e, ringing her mouthful of blackened stumps with the most vivid scarlet, and wore her dirty, matted grey hair in rainbow plaits of silk and satin ribbon tied with jingling bells, trailing down her back nigh to the floor; and clothed herself in glittery, mismatched rags of discarded and pilfered finery wherein teal damask with tarnished gilt threads mingled with rainbow sc.r.a.ps and tatters of dingy silks and satins, brocades, damasks, and velvets, to create a haphazard patchwork gown with a long, trailing train that followed Madame Astarte as though she were a great cat and it was her tail. Rows of clanking gold and silver bangles covered her wrists and ankles, and she let the nails on her bare feet grow into curving yellow talons that sc.r.a.ped the floor when she walked just like a cat with overlong claws. Madame Astarte had so many cats Kate claimed she couldn't take a step in any direction without tripping over or treading on them.

Suppressing her fear, Kate had boldly ventured into her lair, explained Jane's situation, and asked for whatever potion the old gypsy woman deemed most beneficial to remedy the situation. She crossed the witch's palm with silver and within minutes the red gla.s.s vial was in her hand, but ere she could depart the old crone was prying Kate's fingers wide and staring intently at her palm. With a sudden blankness in her eyes and a deadness in her voice, she monotonously chanted a dire prediction: "Your love is both a blessing and a curse to you and those you love. The greater your love, the greater your loss; the greater your pa.s.sion, the greater your pain. You will die young and fair, starved for love, but his heart shall go on." Her words filled Kate with such fear that she turned and fled, gripping the precious potion tight over her heart and praying G.o.d forgive her for going against His teachings and trafficking with witches.

Once back in the safety of her bedchamber at Baynard's Castle, Kate flipped open her Bible and found the pa.s.sage in Deuteronomy that was haunting her and read it with a thudding heart and a sudden sweat akin to that which comes with a raging fever.

There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pa.s.s through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer. For all that do these things are an abomination unto the Lord: and because of these abominations the Lord thy G.o.d doth drive them out from before thee.

Shivering and burning all at the same time, salty tears and sweat running down her face, Kate fell on her knees and raised her clasped hands heavenward and begged G.o.d again and again to forgive her until she collapsed on the open Bible in a dead faint. When Henny found her and put her to bed and bathed her hot flesh with a cool, wet cloth Kate was still babbling deliriously. "Please, G.o.d, don't let it be true! Please, forgive me! Please, G.o.d, don't let it be true! I had to do it! I had to do it, for Jane!"

I never knew until she told me; Kate had kept her secret well. Henny had told me that my sister was ailing with the onset of her courses and to let her, and the household, rest in peace, so I had done as she suggested and enjoyed the quiet respite without insisting on seeing my sister. After all, it was only a trifling ail that afflicted most women every month, so I did not worry. Perhaps she only meant to be kind and didn't want to alarm me. Indeed the fever soon broke. But I wish I had known the truth, and that I had known beforehand what Kate intended to do. I would have gone with her and gladly shared her guilty burden of trafficking with that dirty, flea-bitten Circe. I would not have let that old hag hurt my beautiful Kate. I would have kicked her in the shin before she could mutter her evil prophecy, words that once heard could never be forgotten. Now I knew why I had a sense, though I could never put my finger on it and thought perhaps I was imagining it, that since her fever, Kate's gaiety seemed somewhat forced. But now, when I ventured this, Kate a.s.sured me that it was not true.

"I don't believe a word of it!" she declared, shaking back her curls and bravely thrusting her chin in the air. "I just hope the old witch's potion isn't as false as her prophecies! Love is the most beautiful, wonderful thing in the world; how could it ever, when it is true and given freely, hurt anyone?" She went on in a light, disdainful tone, ridiculing the witch's prophecy as she refilled her cup with our sweet, potent brew. "Here, have some more wine, Mary!" She s.n.a.t.c.hed my cup and replenished it. "False love yes," she continued, "that is a sword that wounds, but true love, as I shall always love, no, never! It is only the absence of love and love denied and unrequited that hurts! Me to die starved of love?" She scoffed. "Whoever heard of such a foolish and ridiculous thing? It's absolute nonsense, I tell you! I cannot even imagine it! Speaking of starving, I'm hungry, let us have some cake!" Before I could say a word, she bounded up and jostled her way through the crowd congregated around the flower-decked trestle table.

Are you trying to convince me, or yourself? The question hovered unasked behind my closed lips as I watched my sister, laughing and exchanging pleasant banter with the common folk and servants as she piled a plate high with golden cake, ruby red strawberries, and big white clouds of cream for us.

I was sitting there half dozing, my belly contentedly full, my brain buzzing with gillyflower wine, and a silly smile plastered across my face, watching a yellow b.u.t.terfly flit and dart from flower to flower, when Kate nudged my arm, knocking my cup from my hand and spilling what little was left of my wine.

"Look!" Kate cried, pointing as Guildford scooped Jane up in his arms and began staggering determinedly in a drunken zigzag toward the house as Jane clung to him and squealed with girlish delight and wantonly kicked her bare limbs in the air. "Now our sister will discover just how wonderful love can be! You will see," she a.s.serted with a confident nod, pausing to take another very sweet sip of our golden gillyflower wine. "She shall thank me for this in the morning!"

But upon that point Kate was very much mistaken.

Late the next morning, Jane awakened with a fearsome headache, pounding like an anvil on a blacksmith's forge within her skull, stark naked and sore between her legs with Guildford sprawled blissfully beside her on his belly with one arm draped possessively across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She thrust him from her in disgust. Slowly, she sat up, cringing at the vile taste in her mouth and cradling her aching head. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the pain, and startling at the blood crusted on her inner thighs, and staining the white sheet like a bouquet of rusty red blossoms. Her bare feet sank down and crushed the coronet of flowers Kate had made for her. Instantly it all came rushing back. Jane saw clearly that Kate was the culprit, the person responsible for her drunken despoiling. s.n.a.t.c.hing up the crumpled lawn and lace dress and struggling into it, Jane fled her floral-bedecked bridal bower, the room Kate had ordered arranged so beautifully while we were out in the meadow, with garlands of flowers draping the bedposts and petals scattered on the clean white sheets.

She was standing on the landing, seething, breast heaving, when she spied Kate and me poised to come up.

"You!" she hissed venomously, pointing a rage-trembling finger right at Kate. "You did this to me! You made a fool of me!" She struck her brow with the heel of her palm. "There was something in the wine, there must have been, and you put it there to make me forget myself! You made me give myself to that ... that ... lack-witted popinjay! I will never forgive you, Kate, never, as long as I live! From this day forward, you are my enemy, not my sister!" Then, in a frenzy of uncontrollable tears, she hitched up her skirts and ran, stumbling blindly, tripping and barking her shins on the stone stairs.

I saw Kate's heart break.

"Jane, wait, please!" Kate started up after her, but I, standing on a higher step so that I was of a nigh equal height with her, reached out and stayed her and shook my head, urging Kate to wait, to leave her be, and let her temper cool. But it was too late. All of a sudden we were engulfed in the voluminous, billowing folds of a pink gown and, freeing ourselves, looked up to find ourselves caught in a shower of falling finery. Jane was hurling Kate's clothes down at us and running back for more. I hugged Kate close as she clung to me and wept amidst the hail of dresses, hats, gloves, fans, jewelry, and shoes.

"Get out! Go! I don't want you here! I never want to see you again!" Jane screamed as she barked her shins and bloodied the creamy flow of her skirt trying to drag Kate's heavy oak travelling chest to the top of the stairs. Kate and I quickly jumped apart as Jane gave one last hard kick to the trunk and sent it barreling down the stairs, straight at where we had been standing. "I hate you, Kate, I hate you!" she screamed so fiercely the words seemed to rake and tear her throat raw, and I feared that when I looked up at her panting, red-faced figure glaring down at us with shoulders and breast heaving, I would see blood bubbling from her mouth. I could not fathom how she could unloose such a scream without doing internal damage.

Kate sank down onto her knees in a welter of rumpled finery and wept as I had never seen before.

"Come away," I said gently, tugging her hand, while Henny and Hetty silently appeared to gather everything up and pack it away inside the trunk that had landed on its side at the foot of the stairs.

I led my sister out to sit on the seawall, where we had pa.s.sed many happy afternoons, eating cherries and vying to see who could pitch the pits farthest out into the river, contentedly swinging our feet, and watching the pink and yellow streaked orange sunsets. While we waited for Henny to collect the rest of Kate's things, I did my best to soothe her, promising that I would remain, and that when Jane's temper cooled I would do all that I could to convince her of the truth I knew-that Kate had acted out of the goodness of her heart, wanting only to see Jane find true happiness within her marriage.

"I was afraid her bitterness, contempt, and hate would destroy her," Kate wept in my arms. "She has a chance at love-I only wanted to make her see that! She can't be so cold as she pretends, so it must be fear, it must! I thought, if she could forget herself, just for a day, see what pa.s.sion is truly like, she wouldn't be so afraid of it!"

"I know, I know." I patted Kate's back as the barge that would carry her away, back to Baynard's Castle and her wild, giddy, flirtatious whirlwind of a life, glided silently up to the water stairs.

While Henny and a footman saw to Kate's trunk, I walked my sister carefully down the smooth, worn stone water stairs, giving her every comfort and rea.s.surance I could that "sisters quarrel but never stay angry for long" and that "all will soon be forgiven."

I stood and waved until she was out of sight, then I went back in to Jane with a prayer on my lips that the words I had just spoken were not just a comforting balm, that the wound truly would heal without leaving an ugly scar.

For more than a fortnight Jane kept to her chamber, maintaining a stony wall of silence, stubbornly refusing to see me or Guildford, who repeatedly banged on her door and demanded to know how she could refuse to fall in love with him. She admitted only Mrs. Ellen, but when she tried to remonstrate with her, a.s.suring her that her sisters loved her dearly and had acted only with the best of intentions, and that Guildford was trying his best to be a good husband to her, Jane would turn her back and stop her ears, and in a loud, clear voice, that grew even louder every time poor Mrs. Ellen dared utter a word, recite Scripture, quoting, in maddening, monotonous repet.i.tion, the pa.s.sage from the Book of Matthew about wolves in sheep's clothing.

I pa.s.sed many a wakeful night worrying about how I could possibly make things right between my sisters. I could understand Jane's anger, how she felt betrayed, both by Kate and her own body, the volcano of emotions forcibly buried and concealed deep within that Madame Astarte's potion had caused to erupt in a pa.s.sionate explosion that had left Jane no longer a virgin. But I knew that Kate, more than our parents, who had arranged the match, truly had Jane's best interests at heart. She could not bear to see the sister we both loved trapped in a loveless marriage, like a windowless cell so bleak and narrow one could scarcely take two steps in any direction, with barely an arrow slit in the wall to let the light in. She wanted to show Jane that she could have so much more.

Guildford, though vain and self-centred, and not the shining star of brilliance that Jane was, was not without kindness; he would, if Jane let him, be her friend and try to make the best of this marriage that neither of them had any choice about. But they had a choice within it, to be friends, kind, dear, loving friends, if they would, and, perhaps more, if they deigned to let Love enter and flood the spa.r.s.e Spartan prison of Jane's soul. I wanted to tell Jane this.

Some days I stood at her door and talked myself hoa.r.s.e, and on many of those sleepless nights I felt compelled to creep out and kneel there and pour out my heart, to try to make her understand that Kate had truly meant only good and not a bit of harm. But Jane kept her door locked and would not hear me, and through the m.u.f.fling thickness of the heavy wooden door I heard her voice loudly reciting Scripture, sometimes in English, other times in Latin, Greek, or Hebrew, but I knew it was always the same verse: Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.

One unusually hot July night, when I could no longer bear tossing sleeplessly in a tangle of sweat-sodden sheets, I rose from my bed to bind the sticky curtain of my hair in a tight braid, to give some respite to my neck, and to bathe myself with a cooling cloth. As I stood poised beside the basin, ready to dip the cloth, I heard voices below my open window. I recognized them at once-my father and Guildford. I heard every word they said, but to this day I wish I had not. I wish I, like Jane, had stopped my ears and taken refuge-even if it was a cowardly refuge-in the recitation of Scripture or just jumped back into bed and hugged a pillow tight over my head.

"Must you go?" Guildford asked in a sensual, sulky voice, and I could just picture his pretty lips pouting so seductively that he was just begging to be kissed. "The night is young and I'm so beautiful ..."

Next came a groan, torn pa.s.sionately from Father's throat and a rustle of clothing as though he were clutching another body close to his. "I can't fight it anymore! You taste as sweet as a sugared lemon!"

"Oh, Hal!" Guildford sighed.

"Don't call me Hal. My wife calls me Hal!" Father spoke the word wife so savagely, with such biting contempt it frightened me; it was as though he were stabbing my lady-mother with his words.

"Very well, I shall call you Enrico," Guildford announced. "That is Italian for Henry; I asked Maestro Cocozza and he told me," he added boastfully as though making such an inquiry of his music master was some monumental accomplishment of which he should be very proud.

Another blissful sigh and the rustle of clothing, then Father said, "And I shall call you Il mio amore, my love, my sweet, mio dolce ..."

The silence that followed told its own tale-they were kissing pa.s.sionately. Then, with a breathless gasp of wonder, they broke apart.

"We shall be so happy together, when we are away from here, in Italy." Father sighed, dreaming their dream, their folie a deux, aloud. "My golden songbird that I keep in the gilded cage of my heart shall sing, his voice soaring like wings from the stage. You shall be showered with accolades, gold, jewels, and flowers thrown nightly at your feet by the adoring ma.s.ses as you take your final bow, and I shall be right there in front every night, leading the applause, and every day I will bake the sweetest, most decadent, rich pastries ..."

"Name your shop Il Limone Zuccherato, The Sugared Lemon, for me!" Guildford breathed, and another silence followed as I imagined their lips locked, their bodies crushed, close together, tart and sweet.

"But what shall we do for money?" Guildford asked. "When I sing, will the people throw enough money for us to live in the style to which we are accustomed?"

"Do not worry, my love, I shall supplement our earnings, from your singing and my pastry shop, at the gambling tables!" Father said, confident and rea.s.suring.

Inwardly I groaned. Father was a terrible gambler. Some said he was the worst in London, and the higher the stakes, the better he liked it; his losses were astronomical, and we lived perpetually on the threshold of financial disaster. Dr. Haddon, our chaplain at Bradgate, had spoken to him numerous times, pleading with him, begging him, for the good of his soul and the sake of his family and to stave off ruin, to renounce this reckless and ruinous habit forever.

"What's one fortune?" Father said with what I could well imagine was a blase shrug. "I can always win us another and another after we've run through that one, and then another! You shall stand beside me and be my good luck charm! With your beauty and my brains we make a perfect match!"

"Heavenly!" Guildford sighed and surrendered to Father's embrace one more time.

Quietly, even though the heat was stifling, I closed the cas.e.m.e.nt and returned to my bed, with a sick, frightened feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't want to hear any more and wished with all my heart I could erase from my mind what I had already heard. It was too absurd; my father, the Duke of Suffolk, wanted to run away with his son-in-law to Italy, to live and love, in the most sinful way known to man, warmed by the sun, while one sang, on a stage he would most likely be hissed and booed from as he was pelted with rotten vegetables, and the other renounced his proud and n.o.ble heritage to run a sweetshop. It was mad, utterly mad!

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.

On 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 gra.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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 n.o.bleman'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 pet.i.tions.

As soon as Jane entered there was a great rustling as men and women, high born n.o.bles 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 pa.s.sed 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 a.s.suming 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 G.o.d 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 pet.i.tions 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.

"This declaration hath been approved by all the lords of the Council, most of the peers, and all the judges of the land," Northumberland continued. "There is nothing wanting but Your Grace's grateful"-he paused meaningfully as his eyes bored into Jane's and his fingers dug deeper into the tender flesh of her shoulder-"acceptance of the high estate which G.o.d Almighty, the sovereign and disposer of all crowns and sceptres-never to be sufficiently thanked by you for so great a mercy-hath advanced you to. Therefore you should cheerfully"-his fingers bit harder-"take upon you the name, t.i.tle, and estate of Queen of England, receiving at our hands the first fruits of our humble duty, now tendered to you upon our knees"-he paused long enough to kneel-"which shortly will be paid to you by the rest of the kingdom ..."

With a gesture, he brought the whole room to their knees and every voice swore to be loyal to and defend "even unto death, our sovereign lady, Queen Jane."

With a wrenching cry, Jane levered herself up from the throne, staggered forward, then fell in a dead faint. Northumberland rose swiftly and stood staring down at her with a grimace of distaste, while Guildford, jostling Fluff from one arm to the other, bent to pull her skirt down into a more modest drape "as only the king and her female attendants should ever see the Queen's garters." The highborn lords and ladies made a great show of pretending not to notice. Only Kate and I attempted to break from their ranks and rush to a.s.sist her, but Pembroke and Berry held Kate back, adamantly shaking their heads, while Mary Sidney restrained me.

"Guildford, how well you are looking, you look good enough to eat!" Father exclaimed, breaking the awkward silence as Jane lay, defenceless and unconscious, upon the dais, with her hood knocked askew and her grey skirts trailing down the steps like dirty rainwater.

Guildford simpered and preened and, stepping down from the dais to stand before Father, did a little turn to show off his buff-coloured doublet and matching hat, both trimmed with layers of white and gold lace, gilt and silk braid, and l.u.s.trous gold and white pearls. "Isn't it delicious? The colour is called marzipan; my tailor says it is London's latest fancy. He says I should never wear anything that doesn't make people want to devour me!"

"More apt words have never been uttered since G.o.d created the earth!" Father agreed. "Mmmm ... marzipan! A most delicious creation!" His eyes closed and his mouth fell open, and for a moment he seemed lost in a fantasy world before he recovered himself. "I dream of you in marzipan! A gilt marzipan sculpture come to life! How you tempt and tease and torment me!"

Guildford smiled. "I am constantly amazed by how well you understand me!"

There was a groan from the dais as Jane slowly sat up, rubbing the back of her head where it had struck the dais. "No, no," she said groggily, ma.s.saging the small of her back as she manoeuvred herself around to sit upon the top step, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth, "the Crown is not my right and pleaseth me not! The Lady Mary is the rightful heir!"

"Nay." Northumberland shook his head as he reached down to jerk Jane to her feet, like a puppet master pulling the strings. "Your Grace does great wrong to yourself and your house!"

"Shut up, Jane, and do as the Duke says! You stupid girl, by the way you're behaving, anyone would think you were being forced into the tooth-drawer's chair instead of being honoured with a throne!" our lady-mother exclaimed. "It is your duty to obey the last wish of your cousin, King Edward, entrusting you on his deathbed with safeguarding his kingdom so that the light of the Reformed Faith should not be snuffed out as it surely would if Papist Mary came to the throne! Do you want the Pope's good shepherdess leading us all back to the Catholic fold, bringing the Spanish Inquisition to our sh.o.r.es, and burning those who resist? Is that what you really want? To end the enlightenment and go back to the dark ages, the Catholic creed, selling of indulgences, and Latin litanies? Enough of that, Hal! Here! Wipe that drool off your face!" she snapped angrily, impatiently thrusting her handkerchief at Father, as she moved swiftly past him to take Guildford's arm, and, rather forcefully I noticed, urge him back up onto the dais "to stand beside your lady, until such time as we can have another throne made for you, Your Grace."

"A gold one set with emeralds to accentuate my golden hair and green eyes," Guildford regally dictated as he resumed his place on the dais, pausing to give Jane a shove that sent her flopping back onto the velvet-cushioned throne with her feet flying up in the air, then artfully draped his arm across its jewelled back and adopted an elegant pose.

Jane sat frowning and floundering on the plump purple cushions, then, wiggling to the edge and dropping to her knees, announced that she would pray to the Lord for guidance.

While all stood around glowering and glaring at her, rolling their eyes, and tapping their toes upon the stone floor in mute impatience, Jane raised her hands to heaven and implored the Lord above to give her a sign and tell her what she should do.

"You stupid girl!" our lady-mother, weary of waiting, lost her temper and shouted. "His silence is a sign! He is telling you that you should obey the will of your parents as the Scriptures say and accept the throne He has seen fit to vouchsafe you!"

For a moment Jane wavered, swaying on her knees, teetering on the verge of another faint, and then she gave in and nodded. Northumberland and Guildford each bent down and clamped a hand around an arm and lifted her back onto the throne, and Jane announced to the a.s.sembled company, "If what hath been given to me is lawfully mine, and it is my duty and right to succeed to the throne, may Thy Divine Majesty aid and grant me such spirit and grace that I may govern this realm to Thy glory and service."

"Well said, well said, G.o.d save Queen Jane!" Father led the company in a round of applause. "Now let us have sweet wine and sugar wafers! My daughter, the Queen, commands it!" He clapped his hands to summon the servants who instantly, as though they had been lurking just outside waiting for this moment, filed in with well laden platters, trays of golden goblets, and flagons of wine to fill them.

After partaking of these refreshments, the a.s.sembly broke up, Northumberland hastily enjoining Jane to get a good night's rest as she would make her formal entry into London on the morrow, via barge instead of the customary procession through the city streets, lest the populace, being partial to King Henry's daughters, show themselves quarrelsome and unruly. "The royal apartments at the Tower are being made ready for you as we speak," he added, "and from there, in a fortnight, you will go to Westminster Abbey for your coronation." Then he called for Mrs. Tylney, whom he had chosen to a.s.sist Mrs. Ellen as Jane's tirewoman, and Lady Throckmorton, whom he had appointed as Jane's chief lady-in-waiting, and asked them to escort "Queen Jane" upstairs and put her to bed.

Before the words had even left Northumberland's mouth, Kate grabbed my hand and determinedly barged ahead of Mary Sidney, who tried to hold us back, and elbowed Mrs. Tylney aside. "As the Queen's sisters we have precedence over all except the King," she sweetly explained, flashing a bright smile. Then, crooking a finger to summon Mrs. Ellen, who had arrived with Guildford's servants and had been standing awestruck at the back of the room through it all, we graciously allowed Mrs. Tylney and Lady Throckmorton, each holding a branched candelabrum aloft to penetrate the grey gloom of the former nunnery, to lead the way upstairs.

Alone in Jane's bedchamber, we undressed our sister, peeling off her grey gown and stripping her down to her sweat-stained shift. We guided her to sit upon the bed while I knelt and removed her shoes and stockings, and Kate divested her of her hood and unpinned her hair, dropping the pins into Mrs. Tylney's waiting hand. Through it all, Jane sat wide-eyed and trembling, murmuring over and over, "I should not have accepted it, it is not my right, it is not my right, I should not have accepted it ..."

After Mrs. Tylney had answered a knock upon the door and conveyed a message from Guildford that he would sleep apart from his wife tonight as he owed it to their subjects to look his best upon the morrow, we dismissed her, along with Lady Throckmorton and Mrs. Ellen, sending her to inform Berry and the Earl of Pembroke that Kate would bide a while with her sisters and they should return to Baynard's Castle and not tarry for her sake.

We tucked our sister into bed and lay one each on either side of her, hugging her shivering body between ours. Though no words were uttered, I knew that in the face of the frightening enormity that Jane faced, like a knight alone against a great and fierce dragon, all had been forgiven. Jane squeezed Kate's hand and willingly laid her head upon her shoulder, and Kate smiled as tears rolled down her face and pillowed her cheek against Jane's hair, and I smiled too, thinking that it was like the sun showing its bright face through the rain and whatever happened we would weather this unexpected storm together-"the brilliant one," "the beautiful one," and "the beastly little one."