Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set

39

In early June, the king’s doctors told the Duke of Northumberland that fifteen-year-old King Edward was dying. They predicted that His Grace would not survive more than a few more months. Northumberland said nothing to anyone at first. He needed time to think, and to learn what the king’s wishes were. Only then did he confide in Will. The next day, Will brought the terrible news home to me at Winchester House.

“Under the terms of King Henry’s will and the Act of Succession of 1544, confirmed by the Treasons Act of 1547, Edward’s sister Mary will succeed him. That will be a disaster, both for England and for us.”

“What does Princess Mary have against you?” I asked, looking up from my embroidery to see that he’d begun to pace.

“I was responsible for limiting her right to hear Mass. She had been inviting all manner of people to attend church services with her, knowing full well that the Catholic Mass is illegal in England. It was only by the goodwill of King Edward that Her Grace was permitted to continue to practice her religion in private.”

“I suppose, then, that she will not keep you on the Privy Council.”

His laugh was short and bitter. “That place is not all I will lose. The first thing she will do as queen is restore Catholicism to England. She will reverse nearly twenty years of reforms.”

“Perhaps she will show tolerance.” I took another stitch, then set my needlework aside. “I have never heard that she is unkind.” Will’s sisters had spent time in Her Grace’s household and so had Geraldine. None of them had ever had a bad word to say about her. Even the Duchess of Somerset had remained on friendly terms with the princess, and that after the lord protector had instituted the most radical of religious reforms.

“She’ll want revenge, mark my words. Or her councilors will. She’ll release Stephen Gardiner from the Tower.”

I saw at once what that would mean. “He will not tolerate what he deems heresy.”

“And heretics who do not recant will burn.”

I remembered what Gardiner had done to Anne Askew and repressed a shudder. “Then we’ll recant. We’ll go back to hearing Mass in Latin. Statues and stained glass will reappear in churches. What difference do such trappings make? Given a choice between returning to the old faith and death, I choose life and so should you. Pretend to convert to Catholicism. Even if you do not continue to serve on the Privy Council, you’ll still be Marquess of Northampton. We will continue to have a place at court.”

Will raked one hand through his hair in exasperation. “Don’t you understand, Bess? There is more at stake here than religion.” He captured my face between his hands. “If Mary becomes queen and returns England to the Church of Rome, our marriage will be invalidated. I will still be married to Anne Bourchier.”

Stricken, I could do no more than stare at him. He dropped his hands to my shoulders but held my gaze with his serious light brown eyes. “There may yet be a way to preserve what we have, both the Church of England and our marriage.”

“Tell me.”

He steered me to a long, padded bench with a low back. “It is King Edward’s idea, his wish. Months ago, in secret, His Grace composed what he called a device for the succession. He does not want either of his sisters to inherit.” Will snorted a laugh, but it had no humor in it. “In truth, he does not want any woman on the throne, but there’s no help for that.”

“After Mary and Elizabeth come the children and grandchildren of King Henry’s two sisters—all females,” I said slowly, remembering that Frances Brandon, Duchess of Suffolk, had three daughters and her late sister only one child, another girl. “Why not Princess Elizabeth then? She is sound in religion and she is King Edward’s half sister.”

“Is she? There has always been some doubt about her legitimacy.”

“One has only to look at her to see she’s a Tudor.”

“But King Henry executed her mother for adultery. The taint lingers. In any case, King Edward’s plan is to leave a will, as his father did, setting out the order of succession. He will disinherit both of his sisters because King Henry annulled his marriages to both their mothers, making Jane Seymour, who gave birth to Edward, Henry’s first true wife.”

I nodded, although I had difficulty following the logic of it all. “Who succeeds, then? The little queen of Scotland is descended from King Henry’s eldest sister.”

“King Henry passed over that line and King Edward wishes to do the same. His Grace’s first version of the device left the crown to ‘the Lady Frances’s heirs male’ and ‘for the lack of such issue to the Lady Jane’s heirs male.’”

“But Frances Brandon has no sons. And the Lady Jane has only just married.”

“I know.” Will’s voice was sharp, his manner agitated. He moved restlessly from window to table, pouring himself a cup of wine, then leaving it behind as he returned to my side. “The king soon realized that he would not live long enough to see any sons born to either woman, so he has made a change in the wording. The crown now goes ‘to the Lady Frances’s heirs male, if she have any such issue before my death’ and ‘to the Lady Jane and her heirs male’ by default.”

I stared at Will in shock. “To the Lady Jane and her—do you mean to say that His Grace has cut the Duchess of Suffolk out of the succession in favor of her eldest daughter?”

“Say rather in favor of her daughter and her daughter’s husband. No one really expects a woman to rule England.”

“I did not foresee this.” I stared down at my hands. They were clasped so tightly in my lap that my rings had left deep impressions in the adjoining fingers.

“Nor did any of us, not even Northumberland.”

“Guildford Dudley will be king.”

“Yes.”

A self-centered seventeen-year-old younger son would rule England. I felt slightly ill. It had been my suggestion that he wed the Lady Jane.

Still, it might all come right. Gil’s father would continue to be the power behind the throne. Perhaps very little would change, after all.

“A King Guildford is better than a Queen Mary,” I said, but my voice sounded uncertain even to my own ears.

“It is not as if we have a choice, Bess. We must support him or lose everything.”

“We will. Others will, too.” We were not the only ones who had much to lose. I managed a brave, bracing smile, but I prayed with all my heart that a miracle would occur and young King Edward would recover.