Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,105
there is no place to sleep around here, I am told. Please? Cannot the queen allow me the Christian duty of hospitality tonight?”
“So you can slip into her presence somehow? Your Grace, there is no point in this. We have our orders and are following them.”
“But why? What harm can it do the queen to hear my plea to her, upon my knees?”
“Even on her knees, a Dudley may find a way to poison Her Majesty.”
“Poison?”
“There are the gravest suspicions that your husband hastened the king’s death. The queen is taking no chances. Now begone with you! Go to London, and do not intrude yourself upon the queen until you are asked, or you will find yourself in the Tower again.”
He took my bridle and firmly guided my horse around.
There was nothing to do but obey. We rode a mile or so, tears pouring down my cheeks, and then found a place by the side of the road where we could rest our weary horses. It was well past midnight when we set out again.
As we plodded down the road, now nearly deserted of travelers, we heard the sound of approaching horses. I froze with dread. At this hour of the night, save for desperate supplicants like me, no one was out but robbers. But the face I saw in the lantern light a few minutes later was no robber. “My lady of Suffolk!”
“Yes. I am on my way to see the queen. I have been much delayed. Do you come from her?”
“No. She would not suffer me to come near her. I was turned away. She may do the same with you.”
“I am willing to take my chances,” Frances Grey said. “I am her cousin. That counts in my favor. I must be going.”
“Wait! My lady, I am desperate. She will not see me. I have done nothing to merit such treatment. She thinks John poisoned the king! Will you tell her he is innocent of that and beg her to allow me a moment of her time when she comes to London? Just a moment? You are my last hope. Tell her that I will speak to her behind prison bars, even, if that is what it takes.”
“I will mention it.”
“Oh, thank you! Thank you!”
The Duchess of Suffolk nodded curtly. Then she and her companion—her master of horse Adrian Stokes, a man so handsome few husbands would have permitted him to serve in their wife’s household—cantered away.
34
Frances Grey
July 28, 1553, to July 29, 1553
On July 28, Harry was arrested. “I expected as much,” he said calmly as his servants hastened to pack his belongings while the men sent to Suffolk Place to seize him waited patiently. “Don’t forget my books, please. I don’t want to trust to the queen’s taste.”
Kate, who had been unceremoniously sent home by her father-in-law to await the annulment of her unconsummated marriage, and Mary, whose betrothal had been called off, were crying as Harry calmly sipped ale to fortify himself for the barge ride to the Tower. “Don’t worry, chickens,” he said. “The new queen’s a kind lady, and I’m sure she will be merciful. Your mother is going to speak to her. Isn’t she?”
I nodded affirmatively.
“They’re cousins, and old friends. Something will be worked out. I’ll be home in no time, and so will Jane, I’ll wager. Speaking of wagering, did you pack my cards?”
***
Queen Mary, on her slow progress to London, had reached Beaulieu, where the girls and I had visited her some years before. It was there Jane had insulted one of her ladies about the Mass, so I could only hope Mary had put that incident out of her mind or would attribute it to girlish ill manners.
“I really don’t know what to say to the queen,” I confessed to Adrian Stokes as we rode along the congested roads. I had followed his advice and chosen an old, plain riding habit and a nondescript horse for my journey instead of traveling in my litter, emblazoned with Harry’s arms and mine. I could not remember ever traveling with so few people, and I was grateful that in addition to a lady, I had Master Stokes on horseback beside me, for not only was he athletically built and forceful looking, he was a good companion. “There is no question that I betrayed her when I allowed my daughter to be put on the throne, but what else could I do? King Edward wanted it that way. Could we have said no?”