Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,99
anonymous donor.
“Aye, Mary! Take another sip, dearie, you look as if you could use it. Haven’t you heard? The Earl of Arundel and the Earl of Pembroke proclaimed her queen at Cheapside just a little while ago, and they’re still cheering over there, I wager. It’s all up with that little slip of a girl they called Jane, poor lass. Not to mention those who put her on the throne. Whoa! Save some for the rest of us, dearie. It’s going to be a long night.”
A trumpet blasted. “Good people,” called the Duke of Suffolk in an unexpectedly eloquent voice. “Silence!” The crowd instantly grew quiet.
“Whereas it hath pleased Almighty God to call to his mercy our late sovereign lord King Edward VI of blessed and glorious memory,” the duke began, “I, Henry, Duke of Suffolk, do now hereby publish and proclaim that the high and mighty Lady Mary, daughter of King Henry VIII, is now by the death of our late sovereign of happy and glorious memory become our only lawful and rightful liege, Mary, queen by the grace of God of England, France, and Ireland. God save the queen!”
“God save the queen!”
“And the devil take the Duke of Northumberland!”
Guildford muttered a curse that fortunately went unheard by the boisterous crowd. My very ordinary face was of the type that allowed me to blend in to my surroundings, but my attire was another matter altogether. Guildford, tall, handsome, and richly dressed, was even less inconspicuous. If he was recognized as a Dudley… “We must get out of here,” I hissed.
“What do you think is going to happen to Northumberland?” a man nearby asked his companion as the Duke of Suffolk tried to silence the crowd again for the singing of Te Deum.
“It won’t be pretty, if Queen Mary’s made up of the stuff of her father.” The second man chuckled. “Beheading if he’s lucky. Hanging, drawing, and quartering if we’re lucky.”
Guildford’s hand went to the sword he wore at his side. I grabbed his hand. “Take me back. Now.”
A head turned and stared. “Why, it’s—”
I plunged into the crowd, hoping Guildford had sense enough to follow. Fortunately, he did. I felt my jeweled headdress go awry as we pushed against the movement of the crowd, then fall off my head altogether, but I could not bend to retrieve it even if I had dared. At last we were safely inside the Tower gates. Gasping, we made our way to the hall where Jane sat dining under her canopy of estate. The meal had just begun. “You are late,” Jane said, frowning. “And why do you not kneel to us? What disrespect is this?” She looked more closely at our disheveled appearances. “What is this?”
I said nothing, but shook my head and sank onto the nearest bench. Guildford began, “Jane—”
The Duke of Suffolk stumbled in, head lowered and tears streaming down his face. Jane rose. Her voice climbed to a childish squeak. “Father?”
“This morning, after the council conducted its business here, most of the members left the Tower on the pretense of consulting with the French ambassador,” Suffolk said slowly, as if he were reading instead of speaking. “Instead, they met at Baynard’s Castle, Pembroke’s home, and agreed to proclaim the lady Mary queen. They asked the Lord Mayor and the aldermen to join them, and they did. Then they all rode to the cross at Cheapside to proclaim her. I was not there, but they say the crowd went wild with joy and are still celebrating.” Suffolk bowed his head even farther; I could hardly hear him speak. “The council sent a deputation to me, and I have proclaimed the lady Mary as queen just now on Tower Hill. I am sorry, my child. I could not stand against them all. I am but one man.”
He reached up and began tearing down the canopy of state under which Jane was dining, sobbing as the fine cloth came tumbling to the ground. Jane watched openmouthed as the Duchess of Suffolk began to weep. “So we are—I am—no longer queen?”
“Yes, lass. It’s all over.” He swallowed. “The council has given orders. Your mother and I are to go to Suffolk Place and remain there until further notice—after I perform one duty. You are to stay in the Tower and await the pleasure of Queen Mary. None of us knows what that will be. The Earl of Arundel and my lord Paget are riding to Her Majesty at Framingham tonight.”