Three Maids for a Crown: A Novel of the Grey Sisters (11 page)

He found his trunk hose, put them on. “My lord father sends you one more message. You are to be ready to depart for London at a moment’s notice.”

“I am too ill to travel.” I felt as if I might never be well again.

“Just do as you are told, Jane!” he said in frustration. “It is time you learned to obey His Grace like the rest of England. If the king himself heeds my father’s counsel, it should be good enough for you.”

The king—had he not been under Northumberland’s power for years now? I cannot say why, but a tale I had heard sprang into my head. All of England knew how Northumberland had manipulated the king into executing first one royal uncle, then the other. He struck first at the lord admiral, my kind Catherine Parr’s wayward husband, then later at the Duke of Somerset, Edward Seymour’s father. Northumberland had inflamed Thomas Seymour’s outrage that his brother, Somerset, had all the power as lord protector—for was not Thomas Seymour as much the king’s uncle and equally deserving? When the lord admiral attempted to “rescue” the king by force, Northumberland and the Privy Council deemed it treason. They forced Somerset’s hand, making him order his brother’s execution or lose the support of the council. But afterward those same men turned that act against him. It was easy to manufacture evidence damning a man guilty of fratricide.

Not long after, Kat heard a story that young King Edward had taken a pet hawk and carried it before his tutors. He had pulled out every feather one by one, then ripped the poor naked bird into four parts, saying: “This is how my advisers have plucked and rent me. But soon I shall be the one plucking them and tearing them to bits.” Horrified as I had been at the tale, I could not help but wonder if my poor, sick cousin hated Northumberland half as much as I did.
His Grace forced the king to condemn men he loved in spite of crown and throne
, I thought, helpless. What horror did the devil duke have in store for me?

Chapter Six

M
ARY
S
YON
H
OUSE
, I
SLEWORTH
, M
IDDLESEX
J
ULY
6, 1553

he day we arrived at Northumberland’s residence of Syon House, the sky hailed blood: red and frozen, stones big as my thumb pelted London from a sky night-dark hours before its time. Hettie buried her face in her apron and prayed aloud, afraid it was the end of the world. It was, in a way, though we did not know it yet.

I could not tear my eyes away as blades of lightning carved up heaven, thunder shaking the sky until it seemed as if the very stars should shatter and rain down on our heads in shards like broken glass.

“… an omen …,”
I heard one of the ladies-in-waiting say. My lady mother grew restless, her fingers plucking at her skirts.

Some said this was not the first time Syon had been racked by an angry God. The Holy Maid of Kent had lived here and got letters written in gold and delivered by angels. She had fits and claimed that if King Henry divorced Queen Katherine of Aragon, he would die a villain’s death, and Katherine’s daughter would wear his crown. It was taking longer than the Holy Maid expected, but soon her prediction about Cousin Mary would come true. Another lady who got executed also stayed here. Catherine Howard, who married the old king when she was Jane’s age, was locked up here before they chopped off her head. This place was full of ghosts. I was glad Jane was not sick anymore. She would not be one of them.

For three days I had been wondering what Jane would have to say about the bleeding hail. Jane was not at Syon House, but Father said she soon would be. Strange, it seemed everyone here was waiting for her. Important men talked of things like ships leaving harbor to guard the coast. Cannons at Whitehall and the Tower’s many guns were all mustered out and at the ready. The noblemen talked late into the night and pulled their beards and scowled at maps while Father and His Grace of Northumberland paced like the Tower lion, waiting to spring.

I wondered who they were afraid of. The French king? The Spanish? Catholics beyond our shores had been angry at the way Cousin Mary was treated because she refused to convert to her father’s religion. But soon there would be nothing for the Catholics to be mad about anymore. When Cousin Mary was queen, she could hear mass five times a day if she wanted to. Not even Father and Northumberland would be able to stop her.

It was strange, thinking of all the people Syon House had protected. A nunnery first, where daughters nobody wanted had been locked away from the outside world. Girls like me. But perhaps it was a good thing to live with a whole batch of women you called sisters, for I missed my sisters more than anything.

The Duke of Somerset, Edward Seymour’s father, had taken this place right out from under the nuns. He turned it into a country house with the grounds all green and the Thames tickling the riverbank, a cool blue-gray ribbon where barges and wherries and sailing skiffs could glide about on hot summer days. Northumberland took Syon House next, after he cut off Somerset’s head and made Edward no fit match for Jane anymore. It seemed a great lot of snatching and grabbing. But who knew? Maybe someday Edward Seymour would be able to take it back. He could not take Jane back, though, since she was Guilford Dudley’s wife. Some things you cannot take back, even if you wish you could.

Still, I had somehow to while away the time until Jane came, and there were so many new people to spy upon. The Earl of Pembroke, Kat’s father-in-law, was here. So were the Marquess of Northampton, who was Catherine Parr’s brother, Arundel and Huntingdon and Bishop Latimer, Nicholas Throckmorton, and the king’s secretary, William Cecil.

I noticed my father and Northumberland striding toward the door, their foreheads wrinkled beneath their velvet caps, their faces stern as if something important were happening. I caught up the ball I was playing with and followed them into the garden. Hedges of holly grew thick along the pathway they took. I rolled my ball toward them, pretending it had escaped me so I could chase it close enough to hear.

“The crone I had attending Edward will not be troubling us anymore,” said Northumberland. “We could not risk her going about London claiming she fed the king of England arsenic at my command.”

Surely I could not have heard right. I rubbed my ears as Father spoke. “The poison was only to keep the king alive until all was in readiness for the succession, Dudley!”

I felt dizzy inside. No wonder the king was sick, if they were feeding him arsenic. Careful to stay out of view, I retrieved my ball and shrank closer to the nearest holly bush. The pointed leaves pricked me, but I did not dare move. Who knew what Father and the devil duke might do to a girl who heard them talking about such secrets?

“Oh, yes, Suffolk. My enemies would be so eager to believe me when I explained I only had the boy dosed with the stuff for England’s higher good. What is even more dangerous, the arsenic left its mark on Edward’s body for anyone who looks in his coffin to see. Now that the king is dead, he must lie in state.”

The king was dead? I froze, stunned. Why was no one else talking about it? All these noblemen should be planning his funeral ceremony, dressing in mourning, the bells tolling while preachers announced his death from every pulpit.

“What are we to do?” My father blotted sweat from his face.

“You need not look so stricken. No one knows the king is dead save you and me and a few others I trust. There is time to put my plan into action. My son Robert has found a baker’s apprentice who looks much like the king. When the time is right, we will ambush him and replace Edward’s body with the apprentice’s. Few will know the difference.”

Sour liquid rose in my throat. I once saw a cat that had eaten nightshade. It swelled until its body burst. Is that what had happened to Cousin Edward because of the arsenic? What would happen to the baker’s boy? I did not want to think about someone killing him to replace the body of the dead king. For the first time I could remember, I did not want to know a secret at all. I started to move away, but Northumberland blocked my escape. Trapped, I went still, praying they would walk away without noticing me.

He continued. “As for the question of lying in state—we will give out that His Majesty did not wish it. He had been ill for so long, he wished to maintain his dignity.”

“He had little enough of that at the end, poor lad.”

“Do you think I enjoyed poisoning the boy? I raised him like my own son. Cared for him, and he cared for me. Not that anyone will believe that if the truth ever comes out. Half of London is already predicting the end of the world after that infernal storm.”

Father rubbed his brow. “You were as shaken by what happened as the rest of us. Hail like blood—on the very day Edward died! It was as if King Henry were rising from his grave in a rage because we overturned his decision about who should wear the crown.” I had heard of my great-uncle Henry’s temper. It had made people around him lose their heads.

“Let Great Harry throw all the tantrums he wishes from heaven or hell,” Northumberland said. “Earth is our dominion, and I will let no one ruin our plans. I just sent a summons to the former king’s daughters at Hunsdon and Hatfield. No doubt they will come rushing to London thinking they come to their brother’s deathbed to say farewell. They cannot know it is too late.”

Why would Northumberland want to play such a mean trick on the princesses? The Lady Mary and the Lady Elizabeth would be very angry when they found out the truth. I kicked my ball a little closer to my father.

“Will they come, do you think? Lady Elizabeth is as cunning as her witch of a mother was, while Lady Mary has more friends than is good for us. God knows the trouble those two women could cause were they left running loose.”

“Never fear, Suffolk. Those who might betray us are as deep in this conspiracy as we are. Before the week is out, the ladybirds will fly into the snare we have set for them. Our most pressing question will be how to dispose of them once we have them in hand.”

“Elizabeth is easy to deal with—no one disputes that she is a bastard. Lady Mary is more complicated. The king’s true-born daughter treated so cruelly as a girl. I tell you, Northumberland, there are many who would support her claim to the throne, Catholic or no.”

“That is why we have to strike ruthlessly. I have dispatched my son Robert with four hundred horsemen to intercept her. Once she is in custody, we must twist our courage to the sticking place, Suffolk. If our plan is to succeed, the Lady Mary must die.”

Horrified, I tripped over the ball and fell upon the hard stone path, but Father and Northumberland were so lost in concentration, they did not notice. My mind filled with another day, another fall, Lady Mary lifting me up into her arms.

I knew enough about court to know that people fell in and out of favor, that Lady Mary might be snubbed by my parents in favor of someone more powerful. But this … this was too much. Surely Father would turn blustery with outrage, tell Northumberland that Lady Mary was my mother’s cousin and our friend. He would never consent to her death.

But Father only looked more thoughtful. “We would need solid evidence of treason to send her to the block. It would take time to gather enough to make a case against her. Every day we wait will give our enemies another day to muster forces against us.”

“Everyone knows the Lady Mary has never been in the best health since King Henry separated her from her mother. She would not be the first prisoner to fall ill in the Tower. However we accomplish it, we will see her buried before the month is out.”

Father and the devil duke smiled, with a look in their eyes that reminded me of bloody hail and the Holy Maid’s fits and heads rolling across bloody straw. There was so much I did not understand. But I knew one thing for certain. The message they had sent to Cousin Mary about Edward was a lie to catch her in their trap. Father and the devil duke meant to kill the cousin I loved. My memory filled with the image of a bright blue bird, the fox’s sharp teeth, and the tail feather Lady Mary had presented to me as if it were a badge of honor.

I wish I could count one friend as brave and loyal as you
.

I went to my chamber, dragged my Thief’s Coffer from beneath my bed. I opened it, dug among the treasures there. Jane’s letters fell out, and I looked at the words in clear black ink. If Jane were here, she would know what to do. But I dared not wait for my sister.

I wished I had an angel like the Holy Maid of Kent to deliver Cousin Mary a letter in gold, but no angel would ever appear to the likes of me. Even if I was able to smuggle a note out of Syon House, it was a long way to Hunsdon. Not even the most trusted messenger could deliver this news. Even if they wanted to be loyal to Cousin Mary, would they not carry the letter to the devil duke out of fear? If Northumberland did not mind giving a king arsenic or killing a princess who should be queen, he would not hesitate to poison me.