Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,55
I had discovered that John’s newfound power brought with it a heavy price: the rumors that dogged him. Each was more absurd than the last, which stopped no one from believing them. “Evidently not. So tell me. He is planning to murder Somerset? Somerset is planning to murder him? He is going to lock the lady Mary in the Tower?”
“No. He’s planning to cast you off, marry the lady Elizabeth, and make himself king through her.”
I turned to stare at Robert. I could laugh off the other rumors, but this one… “Who told you this nonsense?”
“The lady Elizabeth, actually. The imperial ambassador heard the rumor and passed it along, and it made its way to her, so naturally she wrote to ask if I was indeed going to become her stepson. She thought it an excellent jest.”
“It is not the least bit amusing, Robert.”
“It’s just the same old rubbish, Mother. Don’t look so concerned. The imperial ambassador would pass along a rumor about his own mother if he heard it in the streets of England. You know that.”
“But he believed it. Did he not?”
“Who knows? He’s terrified that there might be a pearl hiding in a pile of horse dung, so he passes along the dung and leaves it to others to find the pearl.” Robert kissed me on the cheek. “Amy and I are off to dine with friends tonight. Don’t worry about this fool rumor, Mother. I’m sorry I spoke to you of it.”
***
“What’s wrong, my dear? You’ve been very quiet tonight.”
“It is just a cruel and stupid rumor.”
“Cruel, maybe, but it can’t be all that stupid if it has you brooding about it. Tell me, Mouse.”
“Very well. The—the imperial ambassador—says you mean to divorce me and marry the lady Elizabeth.”
“The imperial ambassador is an ass. Where does he come across these things? Surely you don’t believe this rumor.”
“No.” I stared at the large salt cellar in between us; we were dining privily. “But it could happen. I mean—” I faltered, then pressed on. “I am no longer young, and I never was all that pretty, and I do not believe I can bear you children anymore—I have some of the symptoms of the change of life. I hardly knew what to say to people at Jack’s and Robert’s weddings. I was so nervous, I just babbled. The lady Elizabeth is so striking and young and clever—”
“Jane! The lady Elizabeth is nothing to me, and you are everything. You know that.”
“I should, but we have hardly seen anything of each other lately. You are so often ill, and when you are well, you are meeting continually with people. This is the first time we have dined together in weeks, just the two of us. And”—I swallowed—“we have not had marital relations in weeks. Months, maybe. I know you have had so many new responsibilities, and that you cannot shirk your duty to the king and to your country, but I have been so lonely, and when one is lonely, it is easy to believe stupid rumors. Or at least not to dismiss them out of hand.”
John rose from his chair.
“I have offended you,” I said.
“No. I will be back presently.”
A while later John returned, followed by a man bearing a large, covered cage. John nodded, and with a slight flourish, the servant swept off the cover. Inside the cage sat a handsome green parrot. “He was to be an early New Year’s gift to you, my dear, but now he is to be a very early New Year’s gift to you. It’s just as well. I couldn’t have kept him hidden here indefinitely.”
“Can he talk?”
“He most certainly can. We’ve been working on some things.” John bent and looked at the parrot. “Pretty Jane.”
“Pretty Jane!”
“I love you.”
“Love you,” croaked the parrot.
“John!”
“John?” queried the puzzled bird.
I wrapped my arms around my husband. “John, he’s wonderful!”
“I can’t take that much credit for him, in truth. A petitioner brought him to me, as an inducement to show him favor. I would have helped him without the parrot, but I thought it was the type of thing you might like. But there’s more.” John opened the cage and stretched out his hand. With complete self-assurance, the parrot hopped onto his wrist. “He’ll do the same for you after he’s come to know you, my dear.” He turned and faced me, the parrot perching on his arm. “Now, answer me, Jane. Do I look like the sort of man who would cast off my