Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,44
into their respective prayer books. The next day, Somerset’s children by Anne—he had eight living at the time, all of them under the age of twelve—paid their father a noisy visit. Uxorious as the duke was, he was rather less at ease among the brood of offspring that had resulted from his marriage, and I suspected he might have found his Tower lodgings peaceful after the last of them straggled out of the fortress’s walls.
Then, as December was about to fade into January, the council met once more in a conference chamber at our house, where John, wrapped from head to toe in furs against the sharp cold, croaked his way through the proceedings as I, at his bidding, brought physic in from time to time and plumped the pillows at his back. The meeting had been droning on for some time, the pillows were no longer plump but downright fat, and I was beginning to run out of excuses to stay in the room, when Wriothesley said, “My lords, now that the New Year is almost upon us, we must decide what to do about the traitor.”
“Traitor?” asked Henry Grey, Marquis of Dorset. A newcomer to the council, he had contributed little to it thus far, but did occasionally make remarks like this to remind the rest of the council he was still breathing.
“I refer, of course, to the Duke of Somerset.”
“He’s an incompetent,” said William Parr. A flush passed over his handsome features as he remembered his own ignominious performance at Norwich before John had been appointed to clean up the situation. “But not a traitor,” he continued lamely. “And I say this as a man whose own marriage he tried to invalidate.”
“He is a traitor,” said the Earl of Arundel. “What else would you call a man who all but handed the government over to the rabble?”
“Look at these,” said Southampton. He waved a sheath of papers: the charges to which the duke had agreed to plead guilty. Everyone in the council room looked up obediently, as did I from placing a warm brick against John’s feet. “Are these not the admissions of a traitor?”
“There is no treason in any of the charges against Somerset,” said John. “Only folly and mismanagement.”
“The man has acted traitorously; he must suffer the fate of traitors. It is time we started proceedings to attaint him, and to sentence him to death.”
“You seek his blood, my lord?”
“Haven’t I made it clear enough? I do.”
“Do you seek mine also?”
“I—”
John rose and placed the hand on the sword that was propped up against his chair. “Know this, my lord: I am well aware that he who seeks his blood seeks mine, as well. You shall have neither, I tell you.”
He had never raised his voice. No one else in the room spoke. Then Southampton rose from his seat, his chair scraping the floor as he moved it backward the only sound in the room. Without a word, he left the room. Another chair scraped backward, and the Earl of Arundel followed.
No one else stirred from his seat. After a moment or two, John sat back down. “Shall we turn to the next order of business, gentlemen?”
***
That night, I saw John off to bed as I always did when he was ill, not trusting his comfort to our servants, devoted and competent as they were. Having seen that everything in his chambers was to my satisfaction, I kissed him good night and walked to my own chambers, where my ladies helped me to undress. (It amused me sometimes to remember there was a time not so long ago when I’d done that and almost everything else for myself.) It was an ordinary night, and yet as my ladies brushed out my long, heavy dark hair and braided it for bed, I sensed what had happened in that council meeting had changed our lives forever.
My husband, John Dudley, son of a man who had died upon the scaffold, held the rule of England in his hands.
14
Frances Grey
June 1550 to August 1550
Do I have to come?” asked Jane, laying down the wedding invitation we had received. “I am extremely busy with my translation.”
“Of course you have to come,” I said. “It will be the grandest wedding seen in years. The king himself will be there.”
Jane looked at Harry, who nodded. “I’m afraid your mother is right this time, my girl. Duty calls. Besides, you haven’t seen the king in a while.”