Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,80
snorted. It was Somerset who had forced William Parr to separate from Elizabeth on the grounds that their marriage was invalid, and it was Somerset’s fall that had enabled the couple to finally have its validity affirmed. Plainly, Elizabeth’s dislike for the former Protector extended to his family, as well. In a somewhat kinder tone, she said, “In any case, their fathers never got beyond the talking stage. So that’s no obstacle. She’s a brilliant girl, they say, and you don’t need me to tell you about her lineage.”
“No. I wonder how she would get on with Guildford, though. I don’t remember them having much to say to each other at my eldest son’s wedding.”
“They would learn to get along like other couples do. You surely don’t intend to let another of your children marry for love.”
I refrained from pointing out she and William Parr had done just that, but she did have a point. Besides, there was no logical objection to such a marriage. The would-be spouses were well educated, close in age, healthy, and Protestant; their fathers were the only two dukes in England in power; money was no problem. Royal approval would have to be secured, but I could not think of a single reason why it would not be forthcoming.
Yet something about the arrangement made me uneasy. Was it just that I had always found the lady Jane to be a rather chilly young woman? That hardly seemed good enough grounds to reject the match outright, especially as my contact with the girl had been only superficial. She was young, after all, not to mention very bookish, and the court could be intimidating. Perhaps her manner was more pleasing in the privacy of her household. “I will mention it to my husband.”
“Do so,” said the marchioness. She laughed. “And if he likes the idea, be certain to give me full credit.”
***
“The lady Jane Grey? Funny. Northampton suggested her to me tonight as well. I didn’t realize he and his wife were such determined matchmakers. I must say she seems a logical choice. But—”
“But what?”
“Nothing.”
“It is a woman’s prerogative to say ‘Nothing’ when asked such a question. Not yours.” John did not laugh. “John, what is it?” I grabbed his arm when he remained silent. “Tell me, for heaven’s sake!”
“You must not tell this to a living soul. I should not be telling you, actually. I believe only the king and I know about this. You will be the third.”
The realization of just how much my husband trusted me made me fall silent. I took his hand. After a while, he said, “A couple of weeks ago, the king was feeling very ill. So ill, he told me afterward, that he had thought he might never recover. He was wrong, thank the Lord, as he was much better in a day or two. But just a few days ago, he called me to him again and showed me something.”
John looked around. Sensing what he wanted, I rose and bolted the door.
“Thank you. You remember King Henry’s will. The crown to Edward and his heirs, then to Mary and her heirs, then to Elizabeth and her heirs, and then to the lady Frances’s heirs.”
“Yes.”
“He’s proposing to alter that.” John made his voice even lower. “Should the king die without heirs, God forbid, the crown will go to Lady Frances’s male heirs. If there are none, to the lady Jane’s male heirs. And so on to the lady Jane’s younger sisters, and then if none of them has male descendants, to Margaret Clifford’s male heirs.”
My head swam. “The lady Mary? The lady Elizabeth?”
“Cut out of the succession entirely. King Henry declared them both bastards, King Edward pointed out, and never had them legitimated.”
“But King Henry provided for them to succeed to the crown!”
“That’s what I reminded King Edward. He just shook his head and gave me his father’s glare—he’s getting quite good at it. He said that besides being a bastard, Mary would bring us back to Rome, and that although he did not believe the lady Elizabeth would do our religion harm, she was as much of a bastard as her sister. Perhaps not even King Henry’s child, given the accusations against Anne Boleyn.”
“John, you know all that was lies.”
“Maybe. But that’s not what the king believes. To him, King Henry’s first proper wife was Jane Seymour. That’s the one thing both of the Seymour brothers agreed upon, and they never missed an opportunity to tell the king