Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,91

and then when my work does the trick, they praise God and slip me my fee on the sly. That’s the way it’s been, and that’s the way it’ll always be. I don’t care. I’m never slack of work.” The crone smiled, showing a handsome set of teeth.

“Are your potions helping him?”

“Not hurting him, at least,” Madge admitted. “’Tis too soon to tell. Sometimes it’s too late for even me. I won’t lie to you. That’s not how I work. I will tell you this—if I can’t bring him through, there’s no one who can.”

29

Jane Dudley

June 1553 to July 9, 1553

Over the next few days, life went on as usual in my household, as I obeyed the king’s wish and did not tell the lady Jane of the king’s plans. It was not a difficult matter keeping the secret from Jane, for knowing she was to be queen would surely puff up the girl more than ever. It was Guildford I longed to tell.

It could not be kept a secret for long, I foresaw. The justices had protested when the king had ordered them to give proper legal form to his devise. So sharp had their opposition been that John, straining under the impossible role in which he had been placed, had thrown off his doublet in front of the entire council and threatened to fight in his shirt any man who dared to defy the king. Calming himself, he had instead gone and spoken to the king, who summoned the recalcitrant justices to his side the next day. Then Edward himself had demanded, in a fury that had left him prostrate afterward, that the justices and the council carry out his wishes. Nearly all of the justices and the councilors had then engaged themselves, in writing, to carry out the king’s wishes.

Several days later, the justices produced the document, bearing the king’s great seal, which made Lady Jane Grey the heir to the throne. A hundred and two men signed it—the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Ely, dukes, earls, viscounts, barons, knights, lawyers, the Lord Mayor and aldermen of London.

They signed the document, and when it suited their convenience, most of the cowards forswore it.

***

The council had summoned Parliament to meet in September—the quickest this could be done, as elections would have to be held—but few believed the king would live to see it. By the latter part of June, he spent most of his time flat on his back, gasping for breath. John had even brought in a wise woman to save the king, with his permission, but she seemed only to make him worse, and was soon dismissed.

That same day, John’s man came from Greenwich. “Your Grace, my lord has charged me with a message. It is time to tell the lady Jane.”

I thanked him and summoned my daughter-in-law and Guildford to me. Guildford was out riding, but Jane came almost instantly—to my surprise, it being her usual policy to dawdle when I asked for her. “Your Grace, I was just going to come to you. I would like a few days to visit my mother.”

“I am afraid it cannot be.”

“Why on earth not? You promised that I could see her as often as I wished.”

I swallowed. “You are aware that the king is very ill.”

“Yes. They say he is dying. Has the lady Mary been summoned?”

“No. She has not been. She is not his heir.”

“Not his heir?” Jane stared at me. “Who on earth is, then?”

“You are. He has decreed that you will rule after his death.”

“He has disinherited his sisters? Both his sisters? Who told you this?”

“The king himself, and my husband.”

“I don’t believe you.”

I was beginning to wonder whether this girl was as intelligent as she was made out to be. “Why would I lie about such a serious matter, when I could so easily be proven wrong? I heard him tell your mother the same thing. Go to her if you wish. She will confirm it for you.”

“Then I will.” Jane turned around with a great swishing of skirts.

“But hurry back,” I called. “If—when the worst happens—you must be on hand to proceed to the Tower.”

A little while later, Guildford sought me out. “Mother? Where did my bride run off to in such a hurry? Or dare I ask?”

“Guildford, I have news for you.”

“She’s asked for an annulment?”

“No. This is not in jest, my son. The king has made your wife his heir. She will rule England when the king departs this