“You will do as you are told.”
His high-handedness grated on me. I did not have much experience with gentlemen, but most in Elizabeth’s household were deferential to me, because it was well known that I was one of Elizabeth’s favorites. Colby didn’t give a toss about my favored status, except that it would allow me to be close to her.
“I will do what is best for my Lady Elizabeth,” I informed him. “I will watch over her, as I always have, and keep her from the grip of conspirators like you. If you drag her into your secret dealings, you will lose the very cause for which you strive. She must be free of your schemes and plans, and be able to prove it.”
“That is why we will speak to you and never to her,” Colby said tersely.
“I see. Because if I am caught and executed for treason, ’twill be no great loss for you. You can easily find another informant, but not another princess.”
Colby actually smiled, a brief flash of teeth that disappeared as soon as it came. “You learn quickly.”
I suppressed a shiver. “I am not a silly prattler you can pay to repeat everything that occurs in my lady’s household. I serve Elizabeth, not Lord Robert. If our interests coincide, then of course, I will help you. But at her command, not yours.”
Colby did not answer. We rode, as the sun rose, in complete silence until we turned onto a road that I recognized ran to Hatfield.
At that point, Colby muttered something under his breath that sounded like bloody women, but the wind was in my ears, and I could not be certain.
Chapter 12
For the next tense few days at Hatfield, Elizabeth and I anticipated news of Mary’s defeat or of Northumberland’s, but unnervingly, no news came at all. Elizabeth quietly mourned her brother’s passing, and we waited.
I thought through Colby’s bidding that I look after Elizabeth and be his go-between, and I did not like any of my conclusions. I didn’t trust Colby, but well I knew that times were dangerous and Elizabeth needed her friends close about her. I determined to be a good one.
When I could finagle a private moment with her, I told Elizabeth all that had transpired with Jane and her family. Elizabeth turned her face away when I relayed that Robert had ridden off with the soldiers, though I did not know if he’d act for or against Mary.
He’d likely do what his father ordered, I mused. How could he do otherwise?
Whether Robert fought for Jane or Mary, I believed his first loyalty would be to Elizabeth. What I’d seen in his eyes, combined with Colby’s words and actions, told me that.
At last, nine days almost to the hour that Jane had been proclaimed queen, messages at last flowed to Hatfield.
The gentlemen of Edward’s council, who’d been kept more or less prisoner with Jane in the Tower, had slipped away one by one, once Northumberland had gone off to subdue Mary. This included old Paulet, who’d escaped to his country home. Once free, these gentlemen, surmising that Northumberland’s plans would come to naught, had declared for Mary.
In East Anglia, Mary won the day. Many of Northumberland’s own soldiers and officers had turned on him to join Mary.
Northumberland finally conceded he’d lost and had reportedly proclaimed loudly, “All hail Mary, the queen!”
At the Tower, the Duke of Suffolk tore down the gold canopy they’d erected for Jane. “These things are not for you,” he told his daughter in sorrow.
I imagined that Jane, despite her fright, could only bleat relief that she did not have to be queen. I heard that she sat down immediately to write to Mary to beg forgiveness for what her father and mother had made her do.
The people of England cheered Mary. Catholic or no, she was the rightful heir, and Northumberland had no business meddling with the succession. They had tolerated Jane as queen for a week or so but now danced in the streets to rejoice that Mary had prevailed.
“What of Jane?” I asked Uncle John when he returned from London. I thought of the anxious girl I’d deserted and the flash of stubbornness she’d revealed when she’d refused to let Guildford be named king. “Surely Mary will never believe that the plots were Jane’s. She knows Jane better than that.”
“Jane remains in the Tower,” Uncle John informed me wearily as we gathered in Aunt Kat’s chamber where Uncle John refreshed himself with wine. “But Mary has said she will be merciful to Jane and Guildford. She has already released the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk—as arrogant as they are, they would have been harmless without Northumberland. Northumberland will pay, of course, and he knows it.”
“It wasn’t Jane’s fault,” I repeated.
Aunt Kat sniffed. “Well, why do you not run to Whitehall and tell Mary so? I am certain she will listen to you and release her right away.”
Her sardonic tone made me flush. “I feel sorry for Jane, is all.”
“As do I.” Aunt Kat softened. “Pray for her, Eloise. Her innocence is sure to touch Mary, and all will be well.”
“It will be,” Uncle John reassured me. “Mary will release her, in time, you will see.”
I thought of Jane weeping pathetically at her father’s feet, and I realized that her very innocence could be her downfall. Both Northumberland and Suffolk had believed she’d be the perfect pawn-queen.
