In the Shadow of the Crown - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,70

was justifying himself, of course. He wanted to believe that my mother's death was a reason for rejoicing. There was no court mourning. Instead there were celebrations—a grand ball and a joust. The people must remember that her death had delivered them from war. In the tiltyard at the joust he performed with great skill. He was the triumphant champion. He was telling the people that he was the leader, the one they could trust to take them away from the devious Church of Rome. At the ball he dressed in yellow—yellow jacket, yellow hose and yellow hat with a white feather. The concubine was dressed in yellow too.

How could he care so little for one who had never harmed him and who had always been a dutiful wife?

I became obsessed with the idea that my mother had been poisoned. It would have been so easy and, as they made no secret of their delight in her death, my suspicions might be well founded. I could think of nothing but that. How had she died? I must discover. I asked that my mother's physician and apothecary should come to see me.

When he heard this, my father asked why I should need a doctor. He could understand that I felt a little low in the circumstances, but I should get over that. Chapuys, however, talked to my father and, to my surprise, at last he agreed to allow me to see them. No doubt he was softened by his pleasure in my mother's death; moreover he knew there would be silent criticism of his treatment of her, and he did not want to show more harshness toward me at this time.

One of my maids brought me a letter from Eustace Chapuys in which he advised me to be brave and prepared for anything that might happen, for I could be assured that there would be changes. He also sent me a little gold cross which my mother was most anxious that I should have.

I was deeply moved and I was in a state of indifference as to what might happen to me. There were times when I wished with all my heart that I was with my mother.

In due course the physician arrived, with the apothecary, and from them I learned the details of my mother's last days, and of how delighted she had been at the arrival of Maria de Salinas, so much so that briefly her condition improved. The two friends had not been parted for an hour since Maria arrived, and my mother was in better spirits than she had been for a long time. Her talks with the ambassador had cheered her also. Eustace Chapuys had departed on the morning of the 5th of January. He had left her in a mood of optimism, believing that, if she could continue with the companionship of Lady Willoughby, she would recover.

“It was in the early hours of the morning of Friday the 7th that it became obvious that she had taken a turn for the worse,” said the physician. “At daybreak she received the sacrament. Lady Willoughby was, of course, with her. Her servants came to the chamber, for they knew the end was near. Many of them were in tears. She asked them to pray for her and to ask God to forgive her husband. Then she asked me to write her will, which I did. She told me that she wished to be buried in a convent of the Observant Friars.”

I said, “But the King has suppressed that order.”

“Yes, my lady, but I did not tell her. It would have distressed her. It was ten o'clock when she received Extreme Unction and by the afternoon she had passed away.”

“Was there anything… unusual about her death?”

“Unusual, my lady?”

“Did you have any reason to suspect it might have been something she had eaten or drunk?”

He hesitated and I shivered perceptively.

“Yes?” I prompted. “There was something?”

“She was never well after she had drunk some Welsh ale.”

“Do you think…?”

He took a deep breath and said quickly, “She was not ill as people are when they are poisoned by something they have taken. It was just that she seemed… feeble after taking the beer.”

“Did the thought occur to you that her condition might have something to do with the beer?”

“Well… there have been rumors…Yes, the thought did occur to me that it might have had something to do with the beer. But it would have been an unusual substance … not one