In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,108
pray for her,” I said.
“And that you did.”
“I always mentioned her in my prayers. Why… why? What had she done? She was innocent of treason.”
“That insurrection of Sir John Neville… such things upset the King.”
“I know. He wants the people to love him.”
“Love must be earned,” said Susan quietly.
I went on, “But there have been so many deaths…so much slaughter… fearful, dreadful deaths. And the Countess… what had she done?”
“She was a Plantagenet…”
I covered my face with my hands as though to shut out the sight of her. I could see her clearly, walking out of her cell to East Smithfield Green, which is just within the Tower precincts.
“She was very brave, I know,” I said.
“She did not die easily,” Susan told me.
“I would I had been with her.”
“You would never have borne it.”
“And she died with great courage. She… who had done no harm to any. She who had had the misfortune to be born royal.”
“Hush,” said Susan. “People listen at times like this.”
“Times like these, Susan. Terrible … wicked times. Did she mention me?”
“She was thinking of you at the end. You were as a daughter to her.”
“She wanted me to be her daughter in truth…through Reginald.”
“Hush, my lady,” said Susan again, glancing over her shoulder.
I wanted to cry out: I care not. Let them take me. Let them try me for treason. They have come near enough to it before now.
“She did mention you. She asked all those watching to pray for the King and Queen, Prince Edward … and she wanted her god-daughter, the Princess Mary, to be specially commended.”
“So she was thinking of me right to the end.”
“You can be sure of it.”
“How did my dear Countess die?”
Susan was silent.
“Please tell me,” I begged. “I want to hear of it from you. I shall learn of it later.”
“The block was too low, and the executioner was unaccustomed to wielding the axe.”
“Oh … no!”
“Do not grieve. It is over now, but several blows were needed before the final one.”
“Oh, my beloved Countess. She was my second mother, the one who shared my sorrows and my little triumphs during those early years. Always she had been there, comforting me, wise and kind…”
I could not bear the thought of her dear body being slaughtered by a man who did not know how to wield an axe.
All through the years I had not seen her I had promised myself that we should meet one day.
The realization that we never should again on Earth filled me with great sorrow and a dreadful foreboding. How close to death we all were.
MY FATHER WAS in a merry mood those days. He was delighted with his fifth wife. He watched her every movement, and he did not like her to be out of his sight. He took a great delight in her merry chatter. I thought she was rather silly.
When I remembered my father's turning from my mother, from Anne of Cleves, even from Anne Boleyn, I marvelled. All of them were endowed with qualities which this silly little girl completely lacked. Yet it was on her that his doting eyes turned again and again.
Queen of England she might be, but I could not treat her with respect. To me she was just a frivolous girl. It could only have been her youth which appealed to him. He was fifty and she was about seventeen; and he was desperately trying to share in the radiant youth which was hers.
I was five years older than she was. I wonder now why it was that I disliked her so much. She was mild enough, and I daresay if I had shown some affection she would have returned it. She was stupid; her education had been neglected, although she was the daughter of Sir Edmund Howard, a younger son of the Duke of Norfolk. He had been the hero of Flodden Field but his services to his country had never been recognized and consequently he was desperately poor. There were ten children and it was a strain on his resources to care for such a large family and he was constantly trying to elude his creditors. He was, therefore, glad to send young Catharine off to her grandmother to be brought up in that rather disreputable household—which was what set her on the road to disaster.
But that was to come. At this time, there she was… the uneducated little girl who had suddenly found herself the King's petted consort, his little Queen.