In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,203

it might be that they would never meet her again on Earth.

I was very distressed that she should think this of me when what I wanted was to stop this suspicion between us, and for her to be at Court and that we should be as sisters.

“I must see her,” I said to Philip.

“I should be the one to question her… not Gardiner.”

I was delighted that he agreed with me.

“Summon her,” he said, “and while she is with you I will watch. I will be hidden behind a screen. I would hear what passes between you.”

I thought it was wonderful for Philip to care so much for me and to understand my feelings for my sister far better than others did.

So when Elizabeth was brought to me, Philip hid himself behind a screen placed so that, when Elizabeth stood before me, she would have her back to it. It meant that he could take occasional glimpses at her as well as hear every word that was spoken.

It was ten o'clock at night when she came to me. I could see she was distraught and, having heard of her farewell to her women, I understood that she thought her end was in sight.

I was immediately overcome with pity, remembering the bright child who was the delight and terror of Lady Bryan's life, and I felt a certain nostalgia for earlier days and wished that life could have been different for us all.

She fell to her knees and, before I could speak, began professing her absolute loyalty; she swore by God and the Holy Virgin that she had never been engaged in any plots against me.

I tried to fight the sentiment in myself. She looked very attractive with her red hair falling about her shoulders. I tried to speak sternly. I said, “So, you will not confess your fault, but stand firmly on your truth. I pray that it may become manifest.”

“If it is not,” she replied proudly, “I will look for neither favor nor pardon at Your Majesty's hands.”

“You are so firm…so fervent in your protestations of innocence that you have been wrongfully accused…”

She looked at me with a certain slyness. “I must not say so to Your Majesty,” she said.

“But you will say so to others seemingly.”

“No, Your Majesty. I have borne and must bear the burden. What I humbly beseech is Your Majesty's good opinion of me, as I am, and ever have been, Your Majesty's true subject.”

“How can I be sure?” I murmured.

Then she seized my hands and burst into a passionate appeal. I must understand, she said, that I was to her firstly a dear sister. She remembered my kindness to her when she was an outcast. That she would never forget. She wanted a chance to prove to me that I had never had a more devoted servant. In the great happiness which had come to me, she thought I and my noble husband would be kind to a poor prisoner who was loyal toward her sovereign and tender toward her sister.

She was eloquent. She was, after all, fighting for her life. She believed at that time that I had brought her up from Woodstock with the purpose of sending her to her death.

I was touched, and hurt that she could think this of me. I told her to rise and I embraced her.

I said to her, “No more. Whether you are guilty or not, I forgive you.” I took a ring from my finger. It was a beautiful diamond. I had given it to her on my coronation, telling her that, if ever she was in trouble, she was to send it to me and if possible I would help her. It had come back to me at the time she was taken to the Tower, and I had kept it ever since. Now I gave it back to her.

There was a radiance about her. She had come to me expecting to be sent to the Tower, and instead she had the pledge of my friendship. Her eyes were filled with tears. I was deeply touched, and suddenly she flung herself into my arms.

“You are once more my sister,” she cried. “I have your love and I am happy again.”

When she left me, Philip emerged from behind the screen. There was no doubt that he was greatly interested in Elizabeth. His eyes shone and he almost smiled. But it was not easy to know what he really thought of her.

He said, “You did well. You