Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,27

any girl he doesn’t wish to marry. The Admiral aspires to marry the lady Elizabeth.”

My first foolish thought was my son Robert would be furious at that. Then I realized the deeper implications. “Marry the girl who’s second in line to the throne?”

“Yes. He seems to find no incongruity in the idea at all.”

I winced. “I knew he had flirted with her outrageously while the queen was alive; Catherine told me so. But I thought there was no harm in it, so I said nothing.”

“How could you have thought there was harm in it? After all, the queen was living and was getting ready to bear Seymour a child. He couldn’t exactly put her aside. In any case, that’s not the worst of it. The worst is that I, and several others, believe, on good information, that he intends to take both the king and Elizabeth into his custody and imprison and perhaps kill the Protector.”

“John?”

“I don’t believe Seymour is entirely sane where the Protector is concerned. I’ll freely admit that Somerset has his faults, but he’s never held any ill will toward the Admiral. He was kindness itself to Seymour when the queen died. But Seymour has convinced himself that the Protector has some grand scheme to alienate him from the king and to ruin him. The more he speaks against the Protector, the less the Protector is inclined to let him near the king, and then the more the Admiral speaks against the Protector. And so it grows worse and worse.”

“Has someone tried to speak to the Admiral?”

“Many have tried to reason with him. I have myself. I couldn’t make any headway; I’m too close to his brother, so he thinks I have sinister designs against him, as well. But no one else has succeeded either.”

It was fortunate, I thought, that poor Jane Seymour had not lived to see her brothers fighting for control over her son. “What is the Protector going to do? I suppose that is what you were talking about tonight?”

“He would rather not do anything. Paget wrote him a letter this very day, complaining that he was trying too hard to please all men and has not been firm in upholding the laws. And those are against ordinary men, not his own brother. But he can’t tolerate this much longer. Something will have to be done.” John put his arm around me. “I cannot tell you how I long for the day when the king is old enough to rule on his own.”

“What does the poor boy think of all this?”

“Somerset has tried to shield him from it. Unfortunately, that also means trying to shield him from Seymour, and you know how charming Seymour can be when he cares to exert himself. Somerset can’t compete with that; he’s never had the gift of speaking to young boys. So the king’s unhappy with the Protector because he wants to visit with his favorite uncle.” John shook his head. “It’s a thankless job, being Protector. I wouldn’t have it. Sometimes I wonder whether Somerset regrets having taken it on.”

“You are friends. Why don’t you ask him?”

John sighed. “I could have a year ago. Now I can’t. This discussion we had tonight—it was like a king speaking to a councilor, not two old friends who fought together. I was the one he told when he discovered his first wife had been unfaithful to him. I was the one he told when he became engaged to his present wife; he was excited as a boy. All that’s changed now. He has subjects, not friends. One doesn’t confide in mere subjects.”

“Maybe when the king comes out of his minority and Somerset is back to being another advisor, he will be more like his former self.”

“Maybe.” John wrapped his arm around me tighter, and I pressed my lips to his. He smiled in the darkness. “Shall we make it a merry Christmas for two people, at least?”

10

Frances Grey

January 1549

My first thought when my husband’s messenger galloped into Bradgate was that something had befallen Jane or my husband in London. “What on earth is it?” I called as I hastened to meet him. “Is someone ill?”

“No, my lady, but the marquis wants you and the girls to come to London immediately.” Before I could get out a question, the messenger added, “It is the Admiral, my lady. He is under arrest.”

***

As I neared London, I began to hear the rumors about the Admiral’s downfall. The closer I got to the city,