Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,50

that would bring harm to my husband or to anything that concerns him. Harry and I are not as close as some couples,” I admitted, “but he is kind in his own way, and he has the highest claim upon my loyalty.”

“It will not harm your husband. Indeed, he might welcome it. So do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“I believe it is no longer possible to marry out of England, so I plan to flee. The emperor has agreed to help me.”

My mouth fell open. “What on earth are you thinking? England is your home. Your brother and sister are here.”

“Elizabeth? Sometimes I doubt we even have the same father. In any case, she is the darling of the council, now that Thomas Seymour is safely gone, and can be no friend to me. As for the king, he is Warwick’s and the council’s creature now. They are turning him against me. It will only be worse for me as time goes on, I fear. I see no hope but to leave, and in secret.”

“I can’t believe the king or his council means you any harm.”

“You are naïve,” was the short answer.

“What did the king say when you saw him in February?”

“He was very loving, very friendly. Of course, Warwick was sick and not at his side.”

“He is quite often sick. He missed his own sons’ weddings. Perhaps he does not have the absolute hold over the king that you fear, since he is not constantly around him.”

“It does not matter. If he is not there, his creatures are, like his brother Andrew Dudley.” Mary looked at me stonily. “I believe I made a mistake in telling you this. You will go to the council.”

“No,” I snapped. “I promised, and I will not. But I cannot help but think you exaggerate the danger to yourself. If you confine the Mass to yourself and your women, how can that antagonize the council? It has conceded that much, hasn’t it?”

“For now.” Mary lifted her chin. “You think me mad, don’t you? But I tell you, the council means me ill.”

I was silent, for in a way, I did think Mary mad—or partly so. I could not believe the king, or the council for that matter, wished her harm. They might rail against Mary’s sharing Mass with any traveling stroller who happened to be in the neighborhood, as Harry put it, but most of these men had been servants of King Henry. Surely they would not want to see any harm come to his oldest daughter.

Mary read my thoughts. “You think the king will be bound by his love for me as his sister, but remember what happened with Thomas Seymour, and what almost happened to Somerset. Both of them the king’s uncles.”

“Thomas Seymour was courting disaster. It could not have ended otherwise for him. As for the Duke of Somerset, no permanent harm came to him.”

“For now. That could change.”

“And the emperor approves of this plan of yours to escape?”

“Yes. Not wholeheartedly, I think, but his sister has given her support, as well.” The Holy Roman Emperor, Mary’s first cousin, Charles V, had once been engaged to Mary when she was very young. The match had fallen through, as had all prospective matches for Mary, but Charles had continued to take an interest in Mary’s affairs, both for political and personal reasons. His sister, Mary of Hungary, the regent of the Low Countries, was said to be more vigorous than he these days. However misguided I might think Mary’s plan was, it certainly had supporters in the highest places.

But that was not enough to make me feel better about the plan. “You will never be able to come back to England if you accomplish this. You will be an exile, and what kind of life will that be? If you ask me, this is a foolish idea. I would abide here to see what happens.”

“I did not ask you, and I do not want to abide here to suffer more.”

I knew nothing else to say. Catherine of Aragon had been a legend for stubbornness in her time, and it was evident her daughter was no different. I did not even ask for details, half because I feared Mary would take this as evidence I was spying, half because I truly did not want to know.

“I don’t know why I told you this,” Mary mused. “You could hardly be of help even if you supported the idea. Your husband is too prominent for you to