Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,56

wife, the mother of my seven living children, for a seventeen-year-old girl?”

I shook my head. “Assuredly not.”

“And as soon as I get this bird off my hand, we shall go to bed. Just make sure the parrot’s in the other room; God knows what words he might pick up.”

***

In April, we had a visitor at Ely Place: Henry Sidney, a young man of one and twenty who had been part of Edward’s household since the king’s infancy. He was a great favorite with the king, and had recently joined his privy chamber. He had asked to see both of us. “I hope nothing is wrong with the king,” I said as he was shown in.

“No, my lady. His Majesty is well. My business concerns myself—and another.” Henry Sidney swallowed. “In short, I have taken a wife.”

“Who?”

“Lady Mary.” In a small voice, Sidney added, “Your lord and ladyship’s daughter, that is.”

My first instinct was to marvel that Mary had at last found something other than a book to command her attention. The second was to gape at Henry Sidney. “Our Mary?” I said stupidly.

John rose. He was a tall, powerfully built man, and it must have taken a great deal of courage for Henry to stand his ground when he asked, “Did you dishonor my daughter, boy?”

“No, my lord! She came to the marriage bed a virgin, I swear it! I would not treat her—or your lordship—with such disrespect.”

“But there was a marriage bed,” I said.

Henry’s voice grew small again. “Yes, my lady. We did… er… consummate the marriage.”

“Several times,” said a voice behind me. I turned as Mary strode into the room, her face devoid of its usual dreamy expression. “We married at Esher,” she said. “On the twenty-ninth of March.”

Esher was a manor in Surrey that John had been recently granted by the king. Mary had been ailing after New Year’s and had been sent there to recover her health. “Do you mean to tell me you were feigning illness?”

“No, Mother. I was ill. Henry came there to see about me, and we decided to get married. I was feeling better by then,” my daughter added.

“No doubt,” I muttered. I looked toward John, but for some reason he was leaving me to handle this matter on my own. “Why didn’t you simply ask your father and me before making this match? Your brother Robert showed us that much respect.”

“I knew you had been considering other matches for me,” Mary said. “I feared you would say no.”

“As we might well have done,” I said. “What do the two of you plan to live on?” Henry Sidney was the eldest son, but his father was still alive.

“My father might allow me something,” Henry said. “Or even the king.”

“You were married by a priest?” I asked.

“Yes,” Mary said. “And we had witnesses, too. Say something, Father.”

John shrugged. “What can I say? Congratulations? You’ve behaved deceitfully and disrespectfully. If you’re expecting any largesse from me, I would put that idea out of your heads. I hope you weren’t expecting my blessing for this carnal marriage of yours, for you’ll get no such thing.”

He stalked out of the room, letting the door shut behind him with a thud. Mary started weeping, while Henry stared after John in bewilderment. “My lady, I am truly sorry. We meant no harm, I assure you. My motives in marrying her were not mercenary—”

“Comfort your wife,” I said, almost shoving poor Mary in Henry’s direction. “I must speak to John.”

***

“John, what on earth is the matter with you? I know Mary did wrong in marrying as she did, but did she deserve such unkindness? Henry Sidney is from a perfectly good family, and the king is fond of him. He will inherit a more than adequate estate. You had not promised her in marriage to someone else, had you?”

“No.”

“Then why speak to her so harshly? It is unlike you.”

John stared straight ahead.

“Please, John. Don’t be like this. Mary was weeping as hard as a girl could weep after you left. Think of all of the romances she reads. It must have seemed like such to her. I know she did not think she was dishonoring you. After all, they revealed the marriage to you themselves. They were honest, if only after the fact.” I touched John’s hand. “Something else must be on your mind, to make you act so. Don’t hide it from me.”

“They chose an ill time for this escapade of theirs. I had not wanted to frighten