In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,59

was to humiliate me. The Duke of Richmond had a fine household; the King made much of him. But, of course, it was different with me. I was a continual reproach to him. I was there at the back of his mind, jerking that mighty conscience of his so that it refused now and then to do his bidding. Hatfield! The very name means blank misery, a certain feeling of hopelessness which is what comes to those in prison with no indication of how long their incarceration will last, wondering if only death can release them from the wretchedness of their days.

But I suppose nothing is complete gloom. Although in the beginning I had resented the Husseys, I was now rather glad that they were with me… particularly Lady Hussey, who, I was sure, had great sympathy with me. Once or twice she had addressed me as Princess. It may have been deliberate. On the other hand she had been accustomed to referring to me thus before it had been forbidden to do so. But so bereft was I of friends that I was grateful for that little show of sympathy.

Then I had the two maids who had come with me to Hatfield. They served me loyally and showed in a hundred ways that they regarded me as their Princess.

There was another blessing. It so happened that Elizabeth's governess was Lady Bryan, who had held the same post to me during my early years.

There seems to be a bond between a motherly woman and a child to whom she has been close in infancy. It may have been because Margaret Bryan was a kindly woman, or it may have been because there was that early bond between us, but it soon became clear that she deplored the way in which I was treated under Lady Shelton's rules. Looks were exchanged between us, and then we found opportunities of talking. She brought me some comfort, and I shall always be grateful to Margaret Bryan.

A great deal was happening. I suppose that year was one of the most momentous in history.

The Nun of Kent had been arrested soon after I arrived at Hatfield. She was sent to the Tower with some of her associates. When they were brought before the Star Chamber, they all confessed to fraud, and Elizabeth Barton was accused of trying to dethrone the King, which was, of course, treason.

Christmas came—the most dreary I had ever spent. It was cold. It was long since I had had new clothes, and I saw no means of getting any. I was not allowed to have my meals served in my room. If I wished to eat, I had to go down to the hall and seat myself where I could; and if I did not go, nobody seemed to care. Except, of course, Margaret Bryan, who surveyed me with some anxiety. She assumed the role of nurse and talked to me as though I were a wayward child.

“What good is this doing?” she demanded. “It is hard for you but you must make the best of it. Going without food is not going to help you.”

I said, “You and my two maids are the only friends I have. Perhaps Lady Hussey is…in a way.”

I saw the tears in her eyes. I knew it was difficult for her to speak to me, for she might be noticed, and if she were she would be sent away. But as she saw I was growing more and more wan, she became reckless. I had once been her charge and she could not forget it. Moreover as any good woman would be, she was appalled at the manner in which my mother was treated.

She said to me, “If I came to your room after the household has retired, we could talk.”

I was overcome with emotion. I felt as though a light had appeared in a dark room, and it brought with it a glimmer of comfort.

It was Margaret Bryan who kept me sane during that long time. Sometimes I felt an urge to throw myself out of a window. It was a sin to take life…even one's own. It was that thought which restrained me. My great comfort was in prayer. I was sustained by reading the holy books, by remembering the sufferings of Jesus and trying to emulate his example. At least I had managed to subdue Lady Shelton sufficiently to escape the humiliation of physical punishment.

And there was Margaret Bryan.

When the house was