The Three Crowns: The Story of William a - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,28

not imagine life without her.

His recent illness had weakened him and he wept easily. He thought of the children in the nursery, Mary, Anne, Edgar, and the new baby who, like Edgar, already had the mark of death on her.

“James,” whispered Anne.

“My dearest?”

“Stay with me till the end.”

“I could not bear to leave you.”

“You must, James, soon, for the end is near.”

“Do not speak of it.”

“So you cared for me in very truth? Do not weep then, but rejoice. Soon I shall be past all pain.”

“You are content to go, my love?”

“The pain has been great, James, but I die in the true faith. Do not let anyone come to my bedside and attempt to dissuade me. I know the way I am going. It is the chosen way.”

“Have no fear,” said James.

“And you believe as I believe?”

“I do.”

“Then I am content.”

When a messenger had entered the room to say that Bishop Blandford was outside, James left the sickroom and went to him.

“Your Grace,” said Blandford, “I trust I am in time.”

“The Duchess cannot see you,” James replied. “She is a Roman Catholic and does not wish to be disturbed now with attempts to bring her back to the Church of England.”

“Your Grace, allow me to see her. I will not attempt to dissuade her. I will speak to her as to a Christian of either Church.”

“If you will swear to do this you may see her. I will not have her disturbed.”

The Bishop promised and went to the Duchess’s bedside.

When he had left, having kept his promise, James sent for Father Hunt and certain people whom he knew to be of the Catholic faith. The last rites were performed and when this was done the Duchess asked her husband to come near to her.

He was holding her in his arms, the tears streaming down his cheeks, when she died.

James asked that Mary be brought to him; he wanted to see his favorite child alone.

As soon as she entered the room Mary knew what had happened for he stood looking so lonely and desolate; and when he saw her he held out his arms.

“My dearest daughter, we are alone now. She has gone.”

He picked her up and rocked her in his arms as though she were a baby.

“I have my children,” he said. “Thank God she has left me them.” He began to talk about her mother, telling of her virtues and how they had loved each other with a rare devotion; he trusted that when Mary married she would make as happy a marriage as that of her parents.

As happy a marriage as that of her parents? But what of the rumors? What of Margaret Denham … and others? What of the quarrels she had overheard? Had he forgotten? Could it be that he was not truthful?

He talked of when she married. She knew in that moment that she never wished to marry. She would like to live forever with her dear sister Anne.

“I don’t want to marry, Father,” she said.

He smiled and stroked her hair.

“So you will stay with your old father and comfort him, eh?”

It was not what she had meant, but the thought seemed to please him so she said nothing.

The Duchess was buried in Henry VII chapel at Westminster, and it was noticed that the Duke of York looked more and more to his elder daughter for consolation.

THE BRIDE FROM MODENA

Soon after the death of the Duchess of York two new girls were introduced to the household at Richmond—Anne Trelawny and Sarah Jennings; and with the coming of these two the power of the Villiers was undermined, Anne Trelawny becoming Mary’s great friend and Sarah Jennings, Anne’s. Elizabeth Villiers was furious but there was nothing she could do about it; and she was beginning to realize that she had not been very clever because now that Mary was growing up she was becoming more important and the attitude of those around her was changing.

Mary herself was aware of this. “When I have my own household,” she confided to Anne Trelawny, “I shall dismiss Elizabeth Villiers.”

As yet she was far from that happy state.

Young Edgar died very soon after his mother, to be followed almost immediately by the new baby Catherine. The Duke was very sad and declared that he could only find comfort in the company of his daughters.

“Why does death always happen to us?” Mary asked him.

He held her tightly and put his cheek against hers. “It is happening all over the world,” he

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