Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,95
to hand.”
Jane might be a queen, but she was girl enough to squeal at the jewels that were handed to her, one by one, for her inspection. There was a muffler of black velvet, hung with chains of gold and garnished with pearls, rubies, and diamonds. There was a clock engraved with a crowned rose and the motto Dieu et mon droit. There was a brooch, showing a lady coming out of a cloud. There was a gold toothpick shaped like a fish.
And there was the small crown, with ten large pearls, surrounded by pointed diamonds, set on points of gold. It was covered with rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, so many I lost count, and an enormous sapphire. “Having been a child yourself at the time, Your Majesty may not recall that three crowns were used during King Edward’s coronation—the crown of Edward the Confessor, the imperial crown, and a crown made personally for the king,” Winchester said. “This is the latter crown. As it was made to suit the king when he was a lad, it is more comfortable than the others. Would Your Majesty like to see if it suits you?”
Jane shrank back, no doubt thinking, like me, that the crown of a king who died at age sixteen could only be unlucky. “No. It was made for a child. We should prefer our own crown.”
“So it shall be. I shall order that one be made.” Jane nodded her approval, and the marquis hesitated. “Does Your Majesty wish that one should be made for Your Majesty’s husband, as well?”
The Duchess of Northumberland, who had been seemingly lost in admiration of the clock, turned around sharply.
“We have not decided on this matter,” Jane said.
“It is something that Your Majesty ought to decide,” said the Duchess of Northumberland.
“So we shall,” Jane said. “Send our husband to us.”
***
I heard no more about the matter of Guildford’s crown until the next afternoon when the Duchess of Northumberland stomped into my daughter’s presence chamber, her small figure trembling with rage. Remembering just in time to kneel to my daughter, she sprang up when ordered. “What is the meaning of this, Your Majesty?”
“You must explain yourself.”
“I should hardly think an explanation is warranted. My son tells me that Your Majesty and he agreed that he should be made king, provided that Parliament consented. And then, barely a half hour after he left your presence, you sent the Earls of Arundel and Pembroke to him with the message that Your Majesty would make him a duke, but never king. That is outrageous! You cannot tell my son one thing at one hour, and then another at the other.”
“How dare you tell us what we can or cannot do?”
“It is Your Majesty’s duty as a wife to honor and respect her husband, queen or no queen! It is but right that he be crowned, at least as Your Majesty’s consort.”
Guildford Dudley hastened in, followed by his brother Hal Dudley and by his feeble-minded uncle Jerome, a harmless sort who was more or less treated as the Dudleys’ pet. I had heard various members of the family explain Guildford’s new status to him, but none seemed to have succeeded in making him grasp it. “Mother!” Guildford protested. “You promised that you would not interfere.”
“How can I stop myself from interfering when you have been treated so shabbily by this girl?”
I stepped forward. “How dare you speak of your queen so?”
“I dare because she is ungrateful and unnatural! My husband is working day and night to carry out the king’s devise, and she is barely civil to him—much less my son. It is perfectly reasonable that he be king. Instead, she tries to fob him off with a mere dukedom. Duke of Clarence, indeed!”
“Drowned in a barrel of malmsey,” offered Jerome, clearly proud of having acquired this piece of historical knowledge. Everyone turned to glare at him, so, thoroughly abashed, he scurried away.
“Hal, go after your uncle and tell him that no one is angry with him,” the Duchess of Northumberland said tiredly.
“Your son will be lucky to get a dukedom, if you continue to speak to the queen in this insolent manner,” I said.
“Indeed? Well, I tell you this, madam, my son and I are going back to Sion. If you wish to conceive an heir, Queen Jane, you will have to do so by immaculate conception. Until you treat him more equitably, he will not be sleeping with you. Come along, Guildford.” She tugged at his