In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,201

wife.

Passionately? Was Philip passionate? How could I know? What experience had I of passion? He seemed eager and loving. He did care for me. He did, I vehemently assured myself.

At last I could not resist telling Philip. We had retired for the night and were alone together.

I said to him, “Philip, I think it may be so…I believe it to be so…” He looked at me eagerly.

“I believe I am with child,” I concluded.

I saw the joy in his face, and my heart swelled with happiness.

“You are sure…?”

“Yes, yes…I think it may be so.”

“When… when?”

“I cannot be quite certain of that. Perhaps next May we may have our child.”

I saw his lips moving, as though in prayer.

A FEW WEEKS PASSED. I was terrified that I should be proved wrong; but so far I was not.

I had told Susan now. She looked alarmed.

“Why, Susan,” I said, “you should rejoice.”

She replied, as I knew she would, “You are sure, Your Majesty?”

“I am absolutely sure.”

“May God guard Your Majesty,” she said fervently.

I knew what she was thinking. I was old… too old… for childbearing. I was going to prove them wrong. I was not yet forty. Women had children at that age. I was small and slight—not built for the task of bringing children into the world. They would all have to change their minds. I would make them.

I was faintly irritated with Susan. She did not share my pleasure. I would have reprimanded her but I knew it was out of her love for me that she was apprehensive.

Philip said to me, “The French are plaguing my father. I should be there to help him.”

A cold fear ran through me. “He will understand that you must be here,” I said.

“Oh yes… for a time.”

“It is your home now, Philip.”

He said a little coldly, “My home is in Spain. One day I shall be the King.”

“That is far ahead, and now that we are married we must be together. The people would never allow me to leave this country.”

He said nothing, but his lips were tight.

I thought: Poor Philip. He is a little homesick. It is natural. Perhaps the Emperor would come and visit us or, mayhap, when the child was born, I could go with him… just for a brief visit.

I knew that could never be. But I was in love and about to be a mother, so I allowed myself wild dreams.

HAPPY AS I WAS, I thought often of my sister Elizabeth. She was a prisoner at Woodstock under the good, though stern, Sir Henry Bedingfield and I knew how that must have irked her.

From Sir Henry I had learned of a plot to assassinate her. The suspicion came to me that it might have been hatched by Gardiner, who was always an enemy of hers, and I expect he feared what might happen to him if she came to the throne. According to Sir Henry, he had been called away and had left his brother in charge, giving him strict injunctions that Elizabeth must be watched day and night, not only because of what she herself might become involved in but because there might be those who wished to harm her.

A man named Basset, with twenty men, had been found loitering in the gardens, with the obvious intent of doing some harm to my sister. Because of the strict vigilance, the conspiracy had been discovered and the plot failed.

Although she caused me continual anxiety, I should hate any harm to come to her; so she continued to be in my thoughts.

I had never understood her and was always uncertain as to whether or not she would plot against me. Whenever we were together, I felt nothing but affection for her. Perhaps I was guileless, but I believed she cherished sisterly feelings toward me.

And these accusations which were brought against her? Were they true? I wished I knew. I wished I could trust her completely and that she could come to Court so that we might be as sisters should.

I spoke to Philip about her.

I said, “My sister is much on my mind. It is hurtful that she should be kept under restraint. After all, she is my sister. I want to see her. I want to ask her, face to face, how much truth there is in these rumors that she has supporters who would set her up in my place. If she has hopes …” My voice softened and I looked at him appealingly, “… they cannot remain…now.”

I believe