Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,92

life, which I fear will be soon.”

“You mean it is true what I have heard, that the lady Mary will not be allowed to succeed to the throne?”

“Yes. What else have you heard?”

“Not much. Some say that the lady Elizabeth will be chosen; others are saying the little Queen of Scots. Some are saying that Father will marry the lady Elizabeth and take the throne himself. I laid out the whoreson whom I heard saying that, actually. But this is the first I’ve heard that my wife is to be queen.” Guildford blinked. “What will that make me? King?”

“I believe Parliament will have to decide it. And, of course, the queen,” I added dutifully.

“But you think I’d make a good king, don’t you, Mother?”

“You have not been brought up to it any more than she has,” I reminded my son. “We must see what happens, Guildford. There is no precedent in England for this sort of thing. It may be that you are made a duke. Or that you are known as king consort. First, you must talk to your wife.”

Guildford, who apparently was already planning his coronation, scowled at the thought.

***

Several days passed, and my daughter-in-law had not returned from Suffolk Place, even as news came from Greenwich that the poor king was much worse. I sent a messenger to Jane and received a grand reply from the Duchess of Suffolk: the lady Jane was gathering strength to assume her new duties and preferred to remain at Suffolk Place.

This would not do. Jane might be Edward’s heir, but she was also a bride, with a husband she seemed to have forgotten about entirely. What sort of behavior was this for a future queen? I sent an equally grand reply back to Jane and her mother. After both of us mothers had acted up to our rank as duchesses (it was difficult to believe we’d held the titles for less than two years, I thought proudly), we at last reached a compromise: Jane, who did seem to be suffering from the strain of her impending role, would go to our house at Chelsea, where Guildford would join her.

Instead, Guildford was still with us on the morning of July 7, when Henry Sidney arrived with the dawn. He did not even stop to embrace his wife, whom he had not seen in weeks. “The king is dead.”

Instinctively, I started to cross myself, but stopped just in time.

“He died between eight and nine last evening, in my presence,” said Henry, wiping a tear from his eye. “Sir Thomas Wroth, his groom Christopher Salmon, and his physicians, Dr. Owen and Dr. Wendy, were there, as well. The king said a prayer of his own composition, then let me take him into my arms. He said that he was faint. Then he said only, ‘Lord have mercy upon me, and take my spirit.’ And the Lord did.”

We stayed silent for several moments in memory of the poor king, whom I prayed was now at last in the company of his gentle mother. Perhaps, I thought optimistically, he would even find comfort in his uncles Thomas and Edward. Then Guildford broke the quiet. “Should we tell Jane—er, the queen?”

“Not yet. The duke has expressly requested that the king’s death be kept a secret for a day or so, as was King Henry’s death. Everyone is to stay where he or she is for now. The lord Robert has been sent to bring the lady Mary to London.”

“To imprison her?”

“No. To explain to her why this must be, the duke says, and to explain the financial arrangements that have been made. She will be treated generously if she cooperates.”

Almost, I thought, as if she had been one of King Henry’s cast-off wives.

***

Over the next couple of days, we at Sion House received encouraging reports from John and the others at Greenwich. Only one unsettling piece of news arrived: Mary had abruptly left her residence at Hunsdon to head toward the coast of Norfolk, evading my son Robert. Was this journey coincidence, or had someone been giving her information? If it was the latter, was she once more planning to escape abroad? While we waited to hear more of Mary’s moves, there was little for us at Sion to do but to plan Jane’s coronation—and Guildford’s, for it seemed eminently reasonable he be crowned as her consort (at the very least). We were in the process of listing those we thought should be appointed to Jane’s household