In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,129

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My father was always irritated by illness, and it was thought best to send me off in a litter. We were not far from Ampthill, which had at one time housed my mother, and to this place I was sent.

I do not think it helped being in her old house. Memories of her came back, and I was plunged into melancholy. Dr. Butts was sent to me, and he thought the best thing was to move me to a house which was not full of shadows for me.

Edward was at Ashridge—Elizabeth with him—and it was decided that I should go there to recuperate.

I was feeling very tired, listless and far from well, so it was pleasant to be in the country away from the activities of the Court. I did enjoy seeing the children occasionally—after all, they were my own sister and brother.

Little Jane Grey was with them at this time. She was an attractive child, just about Edward's age—very pretty, dainty and quite learned. Edward was devoted to her. I was amused once more to see how Elizabeth dominated them. She was, after all, four years older, and she had the nature of a leader. The other two looked up to her and in a way protected each other against her.

There was no doubt that, much as Edward admired his sister, he was very pleased to have Jane as an ally.

Mrs. Sybil Penn, who had looked after him since he was a baby, said, “Lady Jane is such a dear little playmate for him. His sister, the Lady Elizabeth, is inclined to bully… much as he adores her. But Lady Jane… she is just sweet and gentle. To see them at their books together…well, it just amazes me that there should be such learning in those two little heads.”

Jane was a sort of cousin. She was the daughter of Henry Grey, Marquis of Dorset, who had married Frances, daughter of Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and my namesake, Mary Tudor, my father's sister. Jane herself was the eldest of three sisters.

Mrs. Penn was fierce in her defense of Edward. She reminded me of Lady Bryan. I often thought what a lot we owed to those women who were mothers to us in our babyhood. They would fight our battles with the King himself if need be. Thus it was with Mrs. Penn.

She was angry about the treatment little Jane received in her home. “Poor little mite,” she said. “They are very severe with her. They think nothing of beating her and locking her up in her room and keeping her without food. I've seen marks on her little body from the whip. I'd turn it on them, I would… dukes or marquises, whatever they be…to treat a child like that and her such a sweet little thing. She's happy here, and my prince is happy to have her with him. I hope we can keep her for a while. Perhaps you would speak for that, my lady.”

I said I would, and then the motherly soul turned her attention to me. She said I needed looking after. She would like to see a little color in my cheeks.

So it was rather pleasant to watch the children together—to note the tender affection of Edward and Jane; and Elizabeth watching them, making sure that she lost none of her influence over the pair.

I was recovering—and in due course I returned to Court.

The Queen was determined to persuade the King to give full recognition to his daughters and, emboldened by her success over Marbeck and knowing that the King was pleased with her, she attempted to do so.

Having nursed two husbands already, Katharine was experienced in the art. She had gentle hands which could be firm when necessary; she could dress his leg more quickly and less painfully than anyone else; he would often sit resting the leg on her lap, and that seemed to ease it considerably. He liked to talk to her of literature, music and theology; and providing she chose her words carefully he found the discourse to his liking.

He was happier than he had been for a long time. He was sure he had chosen wisely, and most would have agreed with him on that point.

In February of that year following his marriage, I was reinstated to my old position at Court. I was even included in the line of succession, but after Edward would come any daughter my father might have by the Queen or— ominous phrase—any succeeding