“Yes, and I wish they would cease,” I said in exasperation. “The people so clearly favoring Elizabeth must fuel Mary’s fears.”
“It does.” Colby nodded.
I began to restlessly pace the small room. “’Tis a strange imprisonment. Elizabeth’s every move and every word is reported, but her gentlemen freely visit Master Parry in the village, where he oversees Elizabeth’s coffers.”
“Bedingfield’s own fault,” Colby said, uncaring. “I’m told Mary gnashes her teeth every time she receives a letter from him, and she receives one nearly every day.”
“Good.” Mary, on her righteous high horse, deserved to be annoyed.
“Every plotter in the land goes to The Bull to see Parry,” Colby said. “So much so that they will ruin all if they are not careful. Every day a new idea is dreamt up for rescuing Elizabeth, but none so far have proved plausible. The gathered gentlemen enjoy a good talk of treason.”
I regarded him with alarm, but Colby stood calmly, the dim light darkening his fiery hair. “Do they endanger her?”
He waved a dismissive hand. “They are hotheads. We wish to triumph in the end, not simply stir up trouble. Parry brings a surprising measure of reason to the discussions, as he understands that anything planned must be paid for in real coin. He has kept Elizabeth’s estates running smoothly and her tenants paying—though I imagine she’d faint away at the state of the books.”
I didn’t smile. “More likely she would fly into a tantrum. She is frustrated at not being able to attend to her own business. Bedingfield spends most of the time with his brow permanently puckered.” I let out a breath in some sympathy. “Poor man. Mary could have chosen a shrewder jailer.”
“Not really. Bedingfield will do exactly as he is told, no more, no less. He will not be won over by Elizabeth and betray Mary, and Mary knows it.”
“That is obvious. Turning against a monarch takes imagination.”
Colby chuckled at that, then went silent a moment. “Philip arrives in a few days’ time,” he announced, serious once more.
I stilled, cold running through me. “So, the marriage will take place.”
I had not really doubted it would. The ladies-in-waiting Mary had appointed to Woodstock spoke of it often, wishing they could attend the wedding. I’d nursed hope that Mary would finally realize that the only person in her country who desired the marriage was herself, but I’d recently let that hope go.
“She purports to love him,” Colby said.
“Love?” I stared at him incredulously. “She’s never met the man.”
“Philip has written and sent her his portrait. Mary is convinced that Philip has esteem for her, which will develop into love.” Colby shrugged. “The rest of us know that his father, Emperor Charles, wishes to secure England to aid his ongoing fight with France. That, and to use our country as a wall against the German heretics filling his realm. Charles believes an alliance with England is worth sacrificing his best-beloved son.”
I sat down hard on the stool, my legs giving way.
The thought that England, having struggled to stand on its own, putting its tongue out at the world, would abruptly be reduced to a satellite kingdom of the Holy Roman Empire, threatened to overcome me with despair.
The world’s affairs did not always benefit the ordinary person, but I had believed my country to be different. Here, if the people did not like their monarch, they could and did say so—forcefully. They’d rejected Jane and rallied around Mary, never mind that Edward himself had assigned Jane to the throne.
Sixty-odd years ago, they’d declared themselves tired of the Yorkist and Lancastrian battles by letting the grandson of an upstart Welshman take over the throne and end the bloody struggle.
Now the Holy Roman Empire would create an heir through Mary and Philip, and England would forever be ruled by Continental powers.
I clenched my fists. “I will not have it.”
“You are a spirited fighter, Eloise,” Colby said in admiration. “A seamstress against the mightiness of the Empire.”
“Do not tease me. You would not have asked me to meet you here if you didn’t need my help to stop the marriage.”
“We cannot stop the marriage, short of assassinating Philip,” Colby said decidedly. “That would be a foolish deed, because it would bring the wrath of the Emperor down upon us. We couldn’t survive a direct fight at the moment, even if France came to our aid. The only thing we can do is keep Mary and Philip apart as much as possible and pray that Mary does not conceive an heir.”
“That is all?” I leapt to my feet. “Sit by the fire and hope she does not become pregnant?”
“The Spanish prince already knows he is not welcome here. He and his followers will want to stay as far away from England as possible. Mary will die childless, and Elizabeth with inherit.” Colby’s voice softened. “Elizabeth prizes loyalty, Eloise. She will reward well those who stand by her.”
I regarded him with the shrewdness I’d developed since I’d met him. “Is that why you do this?” I asked. “For the hope of reward?”
“Not the only reason,” Colby answered, voice light. “I do it for the good of England.”
