Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,108
night before you set off back to London.”
***
I rode back to London the next day, well rested and well fed, bearing the news to my daughters that Harry would be released and that Jane, though she would have to remain a prisoner for now, was safe from death. I had barely settled in when the Duchess of Northumberland arrived at Suffolk Place. “Did the queen see you?”
“Yes. She agreed to free Harry.”
“Did you ask her if she would consider seeing me?”
I could not quite bring myself to lie. “I am sorry, my lady. There was no opportune time.”
The Duchess of Northumberland stared at me. For a moment, I thought she was going to scream or strike me. Then, worse, I thought she would begin to cry. Instead, she said, “I will trouble you no more with my pleas, your lady. I wish you and your family well.”
As she turned, leaning on a servant, and slowly walked to her barge, I wished she had struck me.
35
Jane Dudley
August 3, 1553, to August 21, 1553
I did not entirely give up hope of seeing the queen after the Duchess of Suffolk refused to assist me. I could not give up. When there is no hope, the soul dies. Once the queen was in London, I told myself, she might be more amenable to my petition. To this end, I had decided to be among those greeting her. I would have to stand in the crowd, of course, but I took care to dress every inch the duchess, and to have my much-reduced household standing with me. If I could just catch her eye…
At seven in the evening of August 3, Mary at last arrived, preceded by hundreds of men in velvet cloaks and heralded by triumphant blasts from the Tower guns that made the ground shake beneath my feet. Overnight, the workaday streets of London had blossomed with rich cloths of arras and silk, and fresh, clean gravel crunched beneath the hooves of the horses. There were stages set up for musicians to play and sing—vying to be heard over the guns. The members of every city guild appeared in their best livery, but they were nothing compared to the hundred poor children, dressed in blue and wearing red caps, who greeted the queen at Aldgate. It was nothing like the chilly reception that had greeted Jane’s progress to the Tower, and I could not help but think it was rather unkind of the Lord to keep reminding me of this.
The traitor Arundel had so far redeemed himself that he carried the sword of state before Mary. I hoped he would fall and impale himself upon it, but he did not oblige. Riding next to Mary were the lady Elizabeth, the Duchess of Norfolk, and the Marchioness of Exeter. The lady Elizabeth had prudently said nothing in favor of either Jane or Mary until the victory had gone to Mary. I hoped she spared some thought for her old friend Robert, my imprisoned son. The Marchioness of Exeter was the mother of the long-imprisoned Edward Courtenay; if all went as predicted, her son would soon go free. The Duchess of Norfolk’s husband would also go free today, but the duchess did not wear the same look of anticipation the marchioness did: the Norfolks’ marriage had been legendary for its acrimony long before the duke entered his cell.
As for Mary, I had seen her many times since she was a young girl; it is safe to say that I had never seen her happier. She was clad in a French gown of purple velvet, with matching sleeves, and her kirtle of purple satin was covered with goldsmith’s work and pearls. And her train! It was so long that Sir Anthony Browne, leaning over her horse, had to drape it over his shoulder. Her horse was enveloped in cloth of gold that extended all of the way to its hooves.
But I was not here to gawk at the queen. Waiting for a break in the gunfire, I raised my hand and cheered, so hard my throat ached for two days afterward, “The Lord Jesus save Her Grace! Long live the Queen Mary!”
Too late, I remembered Mary was badly shortsighted. She turned to Sir Anthony, who whispered a reply, and I saw Mary’s joyous face suddenly turn cold. Then she turned her head and waved at the people lining the other side of the street until she was safely past me.