A crown in darkness : a novel about Lady Jane Grey

by Mullally, Margaret, 1954-

  Edward scratched his nose thoughtfully. 'I could plead with my father,' he said dubiously. 'What do you think, Barnaby?'

  Barnaby also looked doubtful. Although Henry idolized his little son, he would not appreciate any interference with his marital problems.

  'That would annoy the King,' Jane said. 'Can't you think of anything else?'

  'Yes, I can,' replied Edward haughtily. 'I can think of dozens of things, but they wouldn't be of any use, if my father is really angry with her. The best thing to do would be to wait until he's had his dinner or something. He is seldom angry for long.'

  'But he might decide to — to kill her. Remember the other Queen Catherine.'

  Edward shrugged. Fond though he was of his pretty stepmother, he believed that nobody was indispensable, and there were lots of other women who would be only too pleased to join Henry VIII on the throne.

  'She's crying terribly,' his cousin pleaded. 'Listen, you can hear her.'

  Edward listened curiously. 'I wondered who was making that row. Surely the Queen can't be such a baby.'

  Annoyed by the Prince's lack of concern, Jane withdrew from the schoolroom. She decided to return to the Queen's apartments. Lady Herbert, who had dismissed her earlier, did not even seem to notice her return. She was too distressed about the Queen. Three hours passed and still the Queen's loud, hysterical sobbing did not cease.

  Archbishop Cranmer, whose sympathies naturally lay with the Protestant Queen, came stealthily to her apartments, at great risk to himself.

  'Your Grace, there is hope yet,' he murmured, regarding the weeping woman on the bed with compassion. 'The King has heard your cries and is on his way here. He must not find you like this.' He took her cold hand in his own and squeezed it gently. 'Have your women bathe your face and comb your hair. Smile for him, Madam, and charm him, as only a woman can.'

  'But he — his signature was on the document,' cried Catherine. 'Lady Jane Grey, who found it, will tell you so. He has agreed to my arrest.'

  Her words, tortured and muddled as they were, conveyed nothing to Cranmer, but there was little time left.

  'Remember, Madam,' he said. 'Flatter him, woo him, but avoid the subject of religion, which he is sure to introduce, if only to tease you.' He made a hasty exit.

  And then, into the flurry and confusion, came Henry and his gentlemen. Jane, kneeling by the fireplace, looked up at her Great-Uncle discreetly. His legs were so diseased that he could not hobble about without the aid of a cane and, on the days when the pain was more severe than ever, he had to travel about in a wheeled chair at great inconvenience to himself and to his servants.

  As he passed Jane, he gave her an absent-minded chuck under the chin and she smiled dutifully, admiringly. People said that he was cruel and malicious and lustful, yet she was sure that he was not entirely without feeling or he would not have troubled to come to Catherine today.

  She learned little of what actually took place in the Queen's bedroom, but Henry became reconciled to his wife and though he craftily tried to goad her into a quarrel, she eluded the trap cleverly and tactfully, restoring his affection completely.

  Whilst the Royal reunion was in progress, a very puzzled Cranmer sent for the Lady Jane.

  Jane entered the starkly furnished chamber warily for, although she admired and respected the great Archbishop, she was very much in awe of him.

  'Pray be seated,' said Cranmer, when she had curtsied. 'Now, my Lady, the Queen spoke very curiously of documents, mentioning your name, which led me to believe that you could enlighten me. You do understand, of course, that the Queen is still not entirely safe from her enemies and, if I am to help her, I must know as much as possible about the situation.'

  'Yes, my Lord,' Jane said. 'I happened to find the mandate for the Queen's arrest and, since it bore His Majesty's signature, thought she should be warned. Then she, probably recalling what had happened to her predecessor, took fright.'

  'You happened to find the warrant!' Cranmer was incredulous. 'How did you manage that? You haven't been prying into the apartments of members of the Council, have you?'

  'No, of course not.' Jane was startled. Cranmer, usually so mild and dignified, could be alarmingly austere. Briefly she told of the incident which had taken place in the courtyard, finding some pleasure in the Archbishop's astonishment.

  'Do you mean Wriothesley didn't even realize that he had dropped the papers?'

  'Apparently not.'

  'And you are positive he did not see you?'

  'Yes, my Lord. I was well hidden.'

  'But whatever possessed you to read them? Did it not occur to you that you should have returned them to the Lord Chancellor?'

  'Sir,' the child said, with the dignity of a much older person, 'the great niece of the King does not run errands for his servants.'

  'No, my Lady, you must not misunderstand me, I did not mean to sound severe. Indeed, it is a mercy you did find them, for had the Queen not been warned, she might well have followed her predecessor into an early grave.' He smiled benignly. 'Your action showed sense and courage and a loyalty which is quite unique in Court circles. But even so, it was a reckless thing to do and, had anyone noticed you, you might be in trouble now. Wriothesley will have realized his loss by this time.'

  'But surely he won't complain to His Majesty. He knows how foolish he would look, and how furious the King would be.'

  Cranmer favoured her with a thoughtful stare, liking her gentle manner, which did not conceal her bold spirit and brave integrity. She would be discreet, he knew. 'Have you still got the papers?'

  'Even now, my Lord. I thought it would be unwise to leave them lying around and, as the other ladies were preoccupied, I decided to look after them for the time being.'

  'Clever girl,' approved Cranmer, and Jane had the delicious feeling of being drawn into a conspiracy. 'It was a brave thing to do but we must dispose of them. If the Catholic party suspects that procedures for this arrest were deliberately intercepted, we would all be thrown into the Tower.'

  'My Lord,' Jane began, uncertainly.

  'Well, child?'

  'Now that the King and Queen are reconciled, it's unlikely that he will allow any harm to come to her. And Wriothesley will attempt the arrest with or without the warrant, as he has the King's approval. Perhaps if, instead of destroying the warrant, which would be treasonable, we leave it very suggestively in a safe but unlikely place, Wriothesley will know that someone is aware of his clumsiness and will be angry and humiliated. He will never find out who it was.'

  'Well, I hardly think ...' Cranmer said dubiously, his mind on the moral matters at stake.

  'Oh, please, sir. It's less than he deserves and I'm sure I can do it without being caught. Nobody will notice me slipping into his rooms and, if anyone comes, I'll hide behind the tapestries.'

  Cranmer considered. The thought of dealing so crushing a blow to his enemy appealed to him. His mouth twitched, a sure sign of weakening. He lifted Jane's small hand to his lips and kissed it.

  'Her Grace should thank God on bended knee for having someone of your iron will in her household,' he told her, in a rush of affection. 'Take the papers, but be careful. And remember, nobody — I repeat - nobody must see you.'

  'Nobody will see me, sir,' she assured him, and curtsied. Each of them knew that they had won a lifelong friend.

  The next morning, Henry sent a message to Catherine, bidding her to join him in the garden. Catherine dared not disobey the summons, but she felt nervous, still not sure of her pardon. Her face was a pale oval of anxiety and sleeplessness. All signs of serenity had vanished from her soft eyes.

  'It seems unreal, almost a nightmare,' she confided to her sister.

  'It's real enough,' said Lady Herbert grimly. 'And you had better look your most radiant this morning.'

  Catherine chattered with nervous vivacity as her ladies dressed her. She decided on a pale lilac gown, which was a special favourite of the King's, drawn back to display her silver kirt
le. This was worn with a tiny silver cape and hood. Her sickly pallor was concealed with a cunning touch of rouge, which she also brushed across her lips, and belladonna was applied to her eyes to make them appear wide and sparkling. Lady Tyrwhitt dabbed musk on her neck and wrists and breasts.

  'I'm as extravagantly painted as Cleopatra of old,' laughed Catherine, but there was no mirth in her laughter. Her stomach felt hollow from lack of food. 'Anne, you must accompany me. You too, Jane, for your quaintness amuses His Majesty and we must all contrive to keep him in a good humour.'

  Henry greeted his wife jovially. 'Good morning to you, sweetheart. Come and sit with me. I declare the morning air has never been so pure. Come, come,' he added testily, irritated by her hesitance. 'Make no delay, girl, make no delay.' He glared at Anne Herbert and Jane Grey. 'Off with you, nieces and sisters. Off! Can't you see that we wish for privacy?'

  They began to curtsy, but Henry waved them away.

  'Dotards,' the King muttered, his face darkening. 'I don't like the idea of fools serving my wife.'

  'They are very dear to me,' Catherine said carefully, wanting to defend her ladies whilst taking care not to sound contradictory. 'Anne and I weren't very intimate as children, but I wouldn't trade her for anyone now. As for little Lady Jane Grey, nobody comforts me as she does and she is contented at Court. I've a feeling her home life isn't very happy. Not,' she hastened to add, 'that I'm finding fault with Your Majesty's noble niece but ...'

  'Frances always was a termagant, even though her mother was the sweetest lady in England, as my mother was in her time,' agreed Henry. 'But enough! We have better things to do than to discuss my relatives.'

  'Yes, Your Majesty.'

  'Sweetheart, you mustn't be so formal. All my other wives called me Henry. I command that you do likewise.'

  'Yes, Your — yes, Henry.'

  Catherine tried not to squirm with revulsion as he drew her into his arms, but her neat, fastidious nature shrank from his coarseness. Once he had been a handsome, golden, laughing god, a robust and vigorous giant, but that was before fate and frustration had awakened the brute and the heartless lecher in him, and a dark-eyed beauty had lured him away from common humanity.

  As they sat thus, he lecherous and she apprehensive. Sir Thomas Wriothesley approached, at the head of a body of guards.

  The King studied them, his brow furrowed, but his confusion soon gave way to a hideous burst of rage. He rose awkwardly and limped towards them.

  'What does this mean!' he bellowed. 'How dare you intrude on our privacy, you presumptuous varlets? Explain yourself, Wriothesley. Explain yourself, I say.'

  'Your Majesty,' stuttered Wriothesley, 'it was your pleasure that we arrest the Queen at this hour.'

  'You treacherous, blundering, pox-ridden simpletons!' screeched Henry. 'Take care that I don't have you arrested. Ha! You hadn't thought of that, had you? And I swear by the Virgin's robe that I would do so, but for the fact that I would not demean myself or England's prisons. You! And you! And you!' Each 'you' was accompanied by a heavy whack from Henry's cane as he went racketing among the gentlemen, bringing the weapon down on the back or shoulders of the person nearest to him. 'Each of you take care that my anger does not overcome my generosity. And you, Wriothesley, impudent dog that you are, tread warily or you won't hear the last of this day.'

  Wriothesley was bewildered. Several things had happened in the past few days which had confused him. He had arrived at the Tower yesterday, only to find that he had mislaid the mandate. How such a mistake could have occurred, Chancellor Wriothesley had no idea, since he was certain that he had taken great care of it. He dared not confide in Gardiner, for fear of being ridiculed or upbraided. Wriothesley could never bear to look foolish so he kept the shameful secret from his cronies, pompously assuring them that matters were being dealt with. He had finally returned to Hampton Court in sweating panic at nightfall and searched for the papers, which he found in his chamber — a most unlikely spot, since he had not even been there since breakfast.

  Now, in the face of Henry's wrath, he was beginning to understand a little of what had actually taken place, although it would always remain something of a mystery to him. He remembered meeting Cranmer in the corridor as he scurried back to the waiting barge; remembered how the Archbishop had smiled graciously and enquired in a soft, concerned voice whether anything was amiss, while his mild eyes sparkled mysteriously. Wriothesley, who had never liked Cranmer and whose chief concern was to get back to the Tower and prepare for the Queen's arrest while the tide still favoured him, had uttered a surly rejoinder and bustled on his way, relieved to have found the warrant but still a little dazed.

  He now had the good sense to remove himself and his men speedily from the King's presence. He was startled, dismayed, badly shaken, and fully convinced that Cranmer had somehow interfered in this matter. If only he could prove it!

  Chapter 5

  One morning, when Jane arrived in Prince Edward's apartments, she was both annoyed and disappointed to find that he was entertaining three friends: Robert and Guildford Dudley and Lady Jane Dormer.

  Robert, the eldest Dudley, was arrogant, self-willed and said to be handsome, although his exuberant, dark good looks were the kind that became fleshy in the late twenties or early thirties. Although Jane disliked him, she admired his boldness. He reminded her of a certain spirited stallion in her father's stables at Bradgate, and because of her peculiar respect for him, she managed to treat him quite graciously. Guildford merely earned her contempt, for she thought him a spoilt handsome fool, beloved of his doting mother. Perhaps, mused Jane as she knelt to kiss the Prince's hand (it was one of those tiresome occasions when ceremony must be observed), that sly little Jane Dormer was the worst, with her smug precocity and the extravagant compliments which she lavished upon Edward's attentive ear.

  'Jane dear, you are very quiet,' Edward was saying. 'Are you unwell?'

  That hateful Robert Dudley was snickering at her and she longed to say something crushing, but Edward was watching her with tender concern. 'My Jane is the cleverest girl at Court,' he said, taking her hand.

  As he led her over to the window seat, she threw Robert a haughty glance over her shoulder. He grinned at her. To her dismay, she grinned back. They began to discuss the Reformed faith, which was one of their favourite topics of conversation. Jane Dormer and little Katherine Grey made no contribution to the conversation; Jane because she was a Catholic and the others leaned towards Protestantism, and Katherine because everybody expected her to maintain silence.

  When the Lady Elizabeth made her usual spectacular entrance, she switched the conversation from Religion to Court scandal, finding this of more interest. 'Now,' she said, when she had told them all the news she had heard or invented, 'we will plan a masque which we can perform before the Court in due course.'

  'I doubt if the Court would be interested in a children's masque,' Robert Dudley retorted.

  Elizabeth gave him a long, curious stare. 'You were not asked to voice your opinion, my Lord,' she said icily. She turned to her half-brother. 'Edward, you want to take part in a masque, don't you?'

  'Yes, of course,' answered the little boy, hurriedly, for he dared not offend Elizabeth. He adored the red-haired Princess and wished he had her superb health and energy. He would have given anything to be vital and dazzling and commanding as she was, but he could not help feeling a little frightened of her.

  'Then that settles it.' Elizabeth tossed her head triumphantly at Robert, who merely shrugged his shoulders and wished that she were a boy for five minutes. 'We'll set our performance against the lives of the Borgias. Edward, you can be Pope Alexander. Guildford can be Giovanni Borgia, the Pope's favourite son, who is murdered by his jealous brother, Cesare. You are most suitable for the part of Cesare Borgia,' she spat at Robert.

  'Brutal, tyrannical, merciless,' murmured Robert, 'but wholly irresistible to women. That's me.'

  Elizabeth, ignoring him, continued to delegate rol
es. Jane Grey was to be Sanchia of Aragon, Cesare's voluptuous mistress and therefore an unlikely part for the graceful child. Jane Dormer was Vanozza dei Cattanei, mother of Cesare, Giovannia and Lucrezia. The latter role had not yet been filled but everyone knew whom Elizabeth had cast for it.

  'I'll be Lucrezia, and Katherine' — she whipped round to look at Katherine Grey - 'can be my maid if she likes.'

  'She is entitled to a worthier role than that,' flashed Jane, facing Elizabeth fearlessly. 'Why should she not be Lucrezia? Her hair is blonde.'

  'Yes, but she's too timid to be Lucrezia,' Elizabeth explained. This could not be denied. 'Whereas I can manage it without any difficulty.' This point too was beyond dispute.

  'For all her airs, she is another fool,' thought Jane. 'But somehow I feel that she will win and I will lose.'

  She was still feeling depressed later that day when she was alone in the garden with the Prince and his sister. She was afraid of her current feelings because she couldn't analyse them. She wanted to be alone with Edward. She wanted to tell him that she was afraid. She knew that he would look at her with that childish frightened look and say, 'Oh Jane, I too am afraid. I dread the day when I must be King. What if the people won't obey me?' Then she would soothe him and become the strong one.

  Unexpectedly, Edward now spoke of his fears to Jane and Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth was outspoken in her contempt. 'Bah! Only think, Edward, you will be in a position to tell that odious Gardiner what to do.'

  He glanced at Jane and knew that her eyes were challenging him to fight Elizabeth. The very thought made him feel genuinely sick. Instead he said defiantly, 'Well, I don't think he's particularly odious. Just because he is a Papist.'

  He smiled at Jane. He knew she understood.

  'I would most certainly reward Uncle Thomas,' Edward went on, a soft gleam of adoration coming into his eyes as he thought of his merry uncle. 'He is so kind to me.'