A Dangerous Inheritance

I did not see Elizabeth after that, but I can well imagine the explosion that followed Lord Robert’s revelations. It was Mrs Astley who came to inform me frigidly that I was banished from her Majesty’s presence and must keep to my chamber, which I did shrinking with dread. Less than an hour later, there came a loud rapping on my door, and there stood one of the captains of the Queen’s guard with a warrant for my arrest. He led me, all of a tremble, down to a waiting litter, and an armed escort bore me off to London. I do not like to think of that terrible journey, or the curt hostility of my warders. Colchester, Chelmsford, Brentwood … all passed in a blur of terror, and when we reached Tilbury, I knew very well where I was going.

The walls and towers of the great fortress are nearer now. I can see the ca

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If only Ned would come home and explain everything, then maybe the Queen could be made to understand that we have never meant her any ill. But he has now been gone beyond seas for five months, and can have no idea of this ordeal I am suffering. My fervent hope is that he will hasten home soon and succour me. I have thought ill of him, I know, and all but abandoned him, yet I am very sorry for that now. In my extremity, beside which all other troubles seem trifling, I see clearly that that was but a fantasy, born of anxiety and unwarranted suspicion. In my dreadful predicament, I remember only the love Ned gave me, and his marrying me in defiance of the Queen’s express order. I know in my bones he is still my sweet lord, my dearest true husband, and I dare not think of that now, or I will surely die of longing and grief.

My mind is filled with horrible imaginings: of my sister, my father – who also perished here during that dreadful winter – and of Guilford Dudley. I recall how Guilford went weeping to the public scaffold on Tower Hill. I never liked him, but I was filled with pity when they told me. Three heads lost to the axe: a savage ending. And they were not the only ones who suffered in this place. Who has not heard of Queen A

The solid walls are above us now, menacing and implacable; the barge passes under the gloomy arch below St Thomas’s Tower, and as it slows to a halt, it rocks, battered by the waves slapping at the steps of the water-gate. I grip the boat’s sides instinctively, but in truth, I do not care if it sinks and drowns me. Better that than a worse fate.

In front of us, the heavy oak gates, slatted in iron, grind open inch by inch, to reveal a tall, thin man with a soldierly bearing, wearing sober, well-cut clothes. He looks to be around fifty years old; he has thick greying hair, a drooping moustache, and high cheekbones in a craggy, lined and rather sad face, and wears an u

After the guards have helped me to my feet, I alight from the boat with trembling legs and dread in my heart. But as I make to mount the stairs, the tall gentleman descends hastily and offers his arm.

‘Sir Edward Warner, at your service, my lady,’ he says. ‘I am the Lieutenant of the Tower, and you will be in my charge.’ I am relieved to find him so courteous and thoughtful, and his tone cordial, even a touch avuncular, although a treacherous little voice in my head is reminding me that a similar kindness was extended by the Tower officials of the day to my sister, and, so I have heard, to A

‘Follow me,’ Sir Edward murmurs in a low voice, his expression pained as he sees the terror in my face. ‘There is nothing to fear.’ I take much courage from that, for I had expected yet more cold treatment from those appointed to have custody of me; even so, with my fate yet to be decided, no comfortable words can unravel the tight knot of fear in my breast.

‘I understand how you must feel, my lady. I too have been a prisoner in this place,’ says the Lieutenant as we ascend the stairs. ‘It was my punishment for supporting the claim of your sister, the Lady Jane. I was held here a year after Wyatt’s rebellion, and then languished in disgrace until the accession of our blessed Queen Elizabeth, for which I daily give thanks.’

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We turn into a cobbled lane, which looks vaguely familiar, and looking around me, I recognise the place where Harry and I boarded Pembroke’s barge on that momentous night eight years ago, and remember the inexplicable terror that seized me in this very place, when I was suddenly desperate to get out. Was that some premonition of my present imprisonment? I am terrified now – but that was worse. God forbid it was a portent of what is coming to me …

The Tower seems vast, all high, forbidding walls and stern buildings, and I have no idea where I am being led. What I dread most is being immured in a dungeon – and coming upon the spot where my sister’s lifeblood was spilt. That I could not face.

‘Where are we going, Sir Edward?’ I enquire.

The Lieutenant steers me through an archway. In front of me, to my left, there is a wall, with trees beyond. ‘Ahead is the i

The archway leads to a narrow passage, and it is here, near the exit at the far end, that I suddenly feel desperately cold, even though it is August, and warm. Sir Edward and his men remain oblivious, but for a space I am freezing, and enveloped in a sense of panic and horror that I know is not entirely co

The Lieutenant has seen me staring ahead in horror. Briskly, he takes my arm and steers me towards a tall timbered house on the left, one of several fine residences in that corner of the bailey. It’s an impressive building, with a high stone tower behind it, but I barely notice either because I am feeling sick to my stomach, knowing that my sister’s butchered remains lie in that chapel, and that somewhere on Tower Green stood the scaffold on which she died. If the Queen had wanted to punish me, she could not have devised a better way.

Fighting down nausea, I turn my head away and stare fixedly ahead. We enter the Lieutenant’s Lodging, a fine modern house with spacious panelled rooms and rich furnishings such as normally grace a knightly household. Sir Edward leads me along a passage, then through an anteroom furnished sparsely with benches, and so to the door of what he tells me is the Bell Tower.