A Dangerous Inheritance

For ten days, gales swept vengefully over the troubled kingdom, then the weather settled and a wintry sun came out, bringing in its wake another messenger sporting the white boar badge. There had been no battle, he said; there had not been any need for one. The gales had done the King’s work for him. Buckingham’s men had deserted, and the Duke had sought refuge in the Forest of Dean, where one of his tenants betrayed him. After that, his rebellion had collapsed.

‘He was taken to the King at Salisbury, Madam,’ the messenger told the Queen. ‘Henry Tudor had again attempted a landing at Plymouth, but once he heard of Buckingham’s capture he fled back to Brittany as fast as he could.’

‘And Buckingham?’ A

‘The King came to Salisbury with his army, and the Duke was tried and sentenced to death. He begged an audience with King Richard, but it was denied him, for there were fears that he might try to assassinate his Grace. Then the Duke suffered execution in the market place.’

A

‘God be praised that the King my lord is safe,’ A

‘Six, I believe, Madam,’ the messenger answered. ‘But the word is that many will be attainted when Parliament meets after Christmas. Madam, the King requests that you now repair to London with the Lord John and the Lady Katherine.’

A

Katherine

November 1558–January 1559. Sheen Priory, Westminster and Whitehall Palace.

The Queen, overburdened by her tragedies, is in a decline, God save her, and has little need of my services now, wanting to be tended only by her oldest and most faithful servants. She has given Mary and me leave, with her blessing, to visit our mother, which is why we are now at Sheen, lodging with my lady and our stepfather, Mr Stokes.

My mother has always been an indomitable woman, but her health is not good these days, and I grieve to see her strong constitution failing. It is hard to see mortality encroach on one’s parent, and to find that the roles are reversing, with her now leaning on me, instead of the other way round. It is against Nature, this tragic reversal, yet I am glad to be a strong arm and support for my lady, for she has softened in these last years – and her life has not been easy.

My lady often likes to reminisce. It is one of the few pleasures left to her, and I indulge her by listening. She invariably harks back to the days of her youth and my grandmother, King Harry’s sister. ‘They called her a paradise, and she was. You have seen her portraits, so you’ll know what I mean. You have her sweet nature as well as her pretty face, and I dare say you will break a few hearts in your time.’

I have sat here for so long and I can be silent no longer: I have to break it to my lady about Ned and me. Arch-intriguer and ambitious as she has been, her teeth have been drawn, and this time, I know, caution will be her watchword.

‘Ho-ho, my girl, what is this?’ she cries, with her old asperity. ‘Looking to wed, are ye? You have been previous!’ But I can tell she is delighted, all the same, for she does not reprove me further for proceeding so far without her sanction. Nor did I fear she would, for once she was content enough to have Ned betrothed to Jane, and she has long been fond of him. Her father was his godfather; and even after Jane was wed to Guilford, my lady continued to call Ned ‘son’ whenever they met.

‘Madam my mother,’ I urge, ‘this marriage is so precious to me that I beg it be handled carefully. I would not wish to prejudice a happy outcome. You see, I am in good hope that very soon our cherished dreams will be fulfilled, and in the happiest of ways.’

‘Wherefore spring these hopes?’ my lady presses.

‘Ned writes that the Venetian ambassador says openly that, when the time comes, I will be able to claim the crown unopposed, for Queen Mary, who distrusts and hates the Lady Elizabeth, favours my succession. My lady, will you help us?’

‘Aye, Katherine. I owe it to you, after all that has happened. But now I must rest. We will speak further about this later.’

It is a frosty November morning. My lady is still abed – she sleeps in late these days – and Mary and I, warmly cloaked and pink-cheeked, are for the stables to feed titbits to our mares and see them cosily blanketed in their stalls. Beyond the courtyard wall we hear the trundling of carts making their way to the City of London, and the clip-clop of hooves. Then another sound breaks the peace of this early hour – the distant toll of church bells.

I look at Mary. ‘What’s that?’

She claps a hand to her mouth as the chimes ring nearer and louder, and are taken up by other bells nearby; they will have been ringing already across the City and in outlying parishes, and soon they will be tolling out their heavy news throughout the land of England.

My hour, I believe, has come.

We go back into the house and change our clothes, putting on black out of respect for her Majesty. I kneel with my mother and all our household in the chapel, praying for the repose of the soul of our beloved Queen Mary; and I shed tears for that kind lady. Yet all the while I am bursting inside with excitement and the pressing urge to hasten to court and claim what is rightfully mine. For now I am queen at last, and all the power and glory that was so quickly and cruelly snatched from Jane is to be mine. And Ned will be mine too! There is no one to forbid it. And Elizabeth, and Pembroke, must bend the knee to me. I ca

Yet the decent formalities must be observed, both here at Sheen and at St James’s Palace, where her Majesty lay at the time of her death. The Council must be allowed a space to convene. The events and processes leading to my proclamation will unfold in God’s good time. I steel myself to wait patiently for the lords to attend upon me, or for a summons to court.

By mid-morning, I am in a frenzy of anxiety. Surely I should have been sent for by now? I ca

In recent weeks, I have heard talk that the courtiers were abandoning the dying Queen and making for Hatfield to wait upon the Lady Elizabeth, anticipating that she would soon succeed. Well, they will soon learn that they have miscalculated; and if Elizabeth thinks to profit by their support, and deny me my rightful title, she must think again. Yet I will be merciful to all, even her. My reign will begin not with accusations and ill-will, but in a blaze of glory and acclaim. And I will find her some good husband to keep her under control.

In the end, I can bear the waiting no more. Wrapping myself again in my cloak, I tell my mother I am for St James’s Palace, and order the barge to be made ready for me, summoning my maids and urging the boatmaster to make haste.

When we alight at last at Westminster, I see that huge crowds of people have gathered there. Surely I should have received a summons earlier, or some word from the Privy Council? But maybe they did not know where to find me. I push my way through the press of people, desperate to get to St James’s; and then I espy a herald stepping up on a mounting block and unravelling a scroll of parchment.