A/N: This chapter was already posted earlier as chapter 13, I apoligize!
KINGS AND PAWNS
Chapter XIV
December 20th, 1555
GREENWICH PALACE, ENGLAND
"Speak plainly. Leave no room for doubt, Northumberland knows the wind is out of his sails but he's wound some of them up so desperately that they are afflicted still with the greatest doubts as to your involvement."
Elizabeth was no longer pale and anxious. Margaret had witnessed a transformation in her. Now as they stood in the neat office of the Secretary William Cecil, she stood straight backed and poised. Dressed in a demure gray and maroon dress, her hair hung down her back and her hands were placed on her lap. Kat and Margaret were dressed in simple matching white gowns. None of them wore jewelry. Simplicity, that was what Elizabeth had insisted on. Modesty, piety, submission. Margaret herself felt better. Being out of the tower and back inside the familiar palace had done wonders for her disposition. It didn't hurt that Cecil was married to Mildred Cooke either, a familiar face in a sea of unfamiliar men.
Mildred was a first cousin of Sir William Fitzwilliam, Margaret's Brother in law. William had married Anne, her older sister twelve years prior and they had five children together. Cecil was a stern, serious, learned man who had always seemed to have Elizabeth's best interest at heart. His wife was a woman Margaret looked up to, and who she enjoyed talking to whenever she could. Cecil knew this, and often gifted Madge with a rare smile. This morning, he had no smiles to spare.
"Have they any real suspects at this time?" Elizabeth was staring off at the wall, her mind in other places. "For if you're to be believed neither Mary nor I shall be charged with any crime."
Cecil sighed, shooting Elizabeth a familiar disdainful look. It was true, he disliked Dudley, he always had. But the man was powerful, even more so with the recent weakness the King had shown since the attempt on his life. He wanted power, to be the power behind the throne. Elizabeth and Mary were Edward's heirs until he had a child and the tyrant imagined them a threat to his rule. Cecil had deigned the quick marriage of his son to the Grey girl was a blatant power grab. She had legitimate ties to the Royal bloodline and was in line to inherit. He may not have been able to get Elizabeth and Mary beheaded this time, but tarnishing their images was still very, very possible.
"Correct my Lady. Neither you nor your sister will be charged or arrested. But what you also must understand is that you are to be banished from this court on Dudley's counsel to the King. I have heard it said both of you are to be sent away. You must speak your peace before you quit Greenwich all together."
Margaret watched as they talked. She was anxious to be free of all this. The first thing she would do is go to see Mary, and inevitably Henry. She would mend whatever rift had come between them and tell him her plan to leave court. Maybe not to Croxden, so far from Court but to install her in one of their other properties. Maybe Penhurst, where she would be farther from the chaos, if only for awhile. Somewhere she could be at peace, if but for a moment.
Cecil turned to her as she mused, his eyebrow cocked. He was not a handsome man, but he had a calm dignified air that made him all the more attractive. He was a Father himself and an avid statesman. He had only recently been elevated to Chancellor of the Order of the Garter but his star at court was said to be on the rise. He was the first person Elizabeth had requested to see upon her release from the Tower. He had been granted permission from the King to aide Elizabeth before her hearing. Mary was speaking to her own advisers as well, more proof that Edward had no real intention of sentencing them to anything harsher than banishment.
Margaret, however, was in no real danger and for that he was grateful. She was family by marriage to his wife and Mildred cherished her family. What his wife cherished, so did William and he was well aware of the girl's precarious position. Henry Sidney, a close friend of the King, was the girl's primary guardian and chances were if Edward the Sixth had his mind set to it she would be in his bed, as a wife or a mistress.
The opinion of most of his courtiers was that he would wed her. It had been romanticized. The Edward before him had his Elizabeth Woodville, and a commoner bride was no longer such a ludicrous notion. The girl had no land, no titles, and her dowry was in no way appropriate for a royal marriage. Of course those obstacles could be moved if the King so inclined. But with the advancements made by Dudley since the attack on the King, Edward's recent independent streak seemed to have been cut short. If Dudley didn't approve of the match, little Margaret stood no chance at getting a King for a bridegroom.
"Mistress Sidney and Mistress Ashby will enter with us. Afterward I've been instructed by your sister to take you to the Lady Fitzwilliam's home for supper."
Kat nodded and Margaret looked up, locking eyes with Elizabeth. The Princess nodded and looked down again at her long, elegant hands. Madge knew Elizabeth was frightened but fought not to show it. She would go and support her Lady, her friend. She would see the King for the first time since the night of Jane's wedding. Would he be angry with her? Would his fascination remain? All would be seen shortly.
They left Cecil's quarters and made their way to where the Magistrate had gathered in a hastily arranged hall of the Palace. Most of the court was about the Palace today, dressed in their finest as if they were attending a masque or a feast of some sort. As they neared the hall, they spotted Mary and all of her ladies heading towards their direction. As they met, Mary and Elizabeth stopped and Elizabeth took Mary's arm in her own kneeling to her sister with dramatic flourish. Mary joined in, leaning down to kiss her younger sister on the forehead. Cecil cringed. Obviously the women were putting on quite the show and it seemed to have worked. All around them audible gasps and whispers could be heard.
Then they entered, Mary at the forefront Elizabeth right behind her. Inside, the rest of the court was excluded. Only a handful were Present, including the King. He sat in the midst of his Magistrate, his council presiding as well. Margaret spotted him immediately. He was leaned forward, his posture stiff and his eyes cold. He still looked majestic, dressed sumptuously and with the aura of a powerful man. The most powerful man in England at that, and unscathed by the attack on his life. Strong and capable, and somehow different. His brows were knit, his visage aged. He looked haunted, but he also looked determined.
Mary stood before the gathering body her head held high. Margaret kept turning from her to the King. Edward was watching his sister intently, his bejeweled fingers steepled in front of his face. As she gazed at him, his eyes caught hers and his bearing changed. His face softened, his eyes widened. Then he masked this sudden change with a frown, and returned to watching Mary.
The Magistrate made her swear upon a bible to answer the questions truthfully. Margaret saw Mary hesitate before she placed her hand on the English translated book, but she did touch the elaborate cover and she recited the Oath. They asked her questions, questions about Mary of Guise about the King of France, the Holy Roman Emperor and the Pope. They asked her about her faith and her masses and her allegiance to her brother. She answered them all perfectly, her head held high and her bearing regal. When they were finished, Mary fixed her brother with a powerful look and spoke.
"My Lords, I know not why I have been brought before your council this morning. I know only that whatever treason you have found out, know that it has not been done by my hand. My Father, King Henry the eighth of blessed memory dictated the succession of his Heirs and my brother, the sovereign King of all of England and the heirs of his body will reign in this realm. Tudors, as I am a Tudor and as our King is a Tudor. I am no traitor to that name. Never have I been and God curse the man who deigns that I ever would dare to be."
The room was silent. Beside Margaret Elizabeth tensed. She turned to look at her and saw her jaw set. Mary nodded toward Edward and made a sweeping curtsy. The King, still and silent, nodded slightly and without a word Mary was dismissed from the Hall. She and her ladies were lead out and Margaret only hoped that before she was taken to Beaulieu that she would get a chance to say her farewells. She genuinely had come to care for Mary, in the time that she had spent with the woman. Elizabeth was called before the stern men next. Margaret squeezed her hand and like a great Lady she granted Madge with a serene smile.
As she stood before her brother and his magistrate she looked radiant. The sun shown down through the high windows and illuminated her red gold hair, hair so much like her Father that it was almost impossible to deny the resemblance. Elizabeth's youth was a sharp contrast to Mary's thirty nine years. She was not asked about the French, or the Spanish or the Holy Roman Emperor. She was not involved in Catholic conspiracy or threat. It was known throughout the land that she was a good Protestant, like her Mother, and that she and Edward tended to always agree on matters of religion and theology.
Instead, they asked strange questions about her Howard relatives and other Lords of the realm. Had they conspired to replace her on her brother's throne? Had they planned a secret marriage behind the King's back? It was absolutely ridiculous. Elizabeth, who had become the belle of her brother's court hadn't been right under his nose committing treason. The men she was questioned about being connected with were all known enemies and rivals of John Dudley. Margaret gripped the arm of her wooden chair. Yet another show of Northumberland's power. What ludicrous ideas had he planted in Edward's head about his sister's? God only knew.
Elizabeth made Margaret proud. She answered all the questions with confidence and poise. But unlike Mary she made no show or speech. She kept her eyes averted and her stance humble. When she did speak, it was in hushed tones, barely audible to her audience.
"I leave the judgment of my innocence to the conscience of my King and his councilors. I only do wish that His Majesty would know the love and honor I owe him as my own flesh, and above all as my Sovereign."
Edward's face softened a bit more then it had with Mary, but still Elizabeth was lead out of the hall, her fate still a mystery. As Margaret stood to follow, Cecil put a hand on her shoulder and sat her back down. Elizabeth did not look back, but left arm in arm with Kat, her head held high. Margaret felt that same fear she had while waiting in the Tower. Soon the Magistrate had convened and all the men had left the hall as well. Watching the sun shine through the high windows she realized the room was now empty but for her and William.
"Sir-"
He held a hand out and shook his head slightly.
"Hush child. A moment more."
Then there was the audible sound of a door opening behind them. Margaret turned and instantly froze as Edward made his way towards where she was seated. Bursting up, she hurriedly curtsied, looking at the floor for much longer than was necessary. When she was upright again, he stood before her with his feet planted slightly apart and his hands clasped behind his back. Tall and stately as always, she could only see the stiffness of his shoulder now that he'd neared. His face was still slightly pale, and he looked just as stern and aged as he had while presiding over his sister's testimonies.
He didn't speak. Madge felt her cheeks flush with heat. As she went to speak he turned his head sharply towards William.
"Cecil, leave us, Mistress Sidney will be dismissed shortly. I've assured Henry you will have her escorted to Lord Fitzwilliam's manor in an expedient fashion."
His voice was cold, regal, untouchable. So unlike the Edward she'd spent those private meals with, or who she'd danced so close to, or who had professed his passion for her not so many moons ago. She felt her stomach knot as dread filled her. She had displeased this man, God's anointed and her rightful King.
"Your Majesty." what more could she say. Her eyes remained downcast and he took a step closer. The vastness of the hall of inconsequential. In this moment they were alone, in a very small space.
"We're you frightened?"
She let a slow breath out and nodded her head in assent. She wanted to tell him that she was even more so now. Gone was the carefree feeling the wine had produced the last time she'd been this close to him. That night the idea of being chosen by a King had seemed like the sweetest thrill. Now she felt as she did when he had first begun to show her notice. She was a small animal in the face of the hunter. He had all the power in the world and who was she in the scheme of things?
"Well speak up. They say it was brave, the way you followed her into the Tower on the day of your arrest. That your head was high and your countenance unperturbed."
Suddenly she was upset. Her fists tightened and fear began to face behind indignation. He was angry at her, but why? What had she done to deserve his scorn?
"Only to instill strength in my Lady Elizabeth sire."
"Do you believe her, that she had nothing to do with the attempt on my life?"
"I need not believe her when I know truly that she played no hand in it."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Faith Your Majesty, and the knowledge that she is your sister and a loyal subject."
He was silent again and began pacing, right in front of her, looking slightly less angry than before. A flicker of worry crossed his features and she felt herself soften. He was still a youth of eighteen, and only a few days before he had been facing his own mortality. It couldn't have helped that Dudley was doing everything he could to twist the King's fear to his advantage.
"There is no loyalty when it comes to a King's throne. Even if she had naught to do with it, she could someday be involved in any number of plots against me. She and Mary both."
"You truly fear them? Think that they wish you dead? You have ruled for eight goodly years without so much as a revolt or an uprising. Now that you face a threat you cannot let those who would wish to weaken you with fear cloud your judgment. Christ himself told us to have no fear."
Edward paused, looking at her for a slight moment, and then continued his repeated trek across the small bit of floor he was pacing on. She continued.
"My Father used to say that silver tongues will stir up troubles and truthful ones will soothe them."
He smiled. He could remember Sir Sidney telling him the same thing. But even louder was Dudley's voice of caution. Wolves in sheep's clothing, all looking to take what was rightfully his, to turn the country over to vice or sell them off to Rome. To overturn all of his Father's work and his wishes. Then again, had his fear truly clouded his judgment? He had recently decided he no longer needed to heed Dudley's guidance so closely. But who could he trust? Dudley had saved him from his voracious Uncle, from the threat to his rule the Seymours had represented.
"Do you speak the truth Margaret? Can I trust you truly? For I will trust you with my life if only you tell me that I may do so without fear."
"There is always fear when trusting oneself to another. What you must do, My Lord, is have faith. As I have in you."
Edward suddenly stopped and stepped forward. He wrapped his arms about her, locking her in a surprisingly tight embrace. Her face fit into the crook of his neck and she smelled his scent deeply. Clean and strong, she closed her eyes and for the first time she didn't think of anyone else. Not Paul or her Brother or Elizabeth or Mary. All she could feel was the arms of a man who had begun to lay his soul bare to her. He was vulnerable, in a time where being vulnerable could mean his death. She placed a hand on his cheek and felt a small bit of stubble. He closed his eyes and nuzzled closer to her. He sighed.
"I have made a grave mistake Mistress Margaret. I must pray and repent."
He stepped back and nodded his head briskly.
"Would it be impudent of me to assume you will join me for the Archbishop's sermon on the Sabbath?"
"Not at all Your Majesty, it would me an honor."
She curtsied and he gave her one last nod of approval before making his own way from the hall. She was left alone as the door slammed and suddenly she felt as if the huge place was too small. She couldn't breathe. Suddenly she launched forward into a run, needing to leave, needing to find Henry and to find peace. As she burst through the doors she nearly toppled, running smack dab into Sir Cecil who stumbled backward to the ground.
"Decorum Margaret! A lady would never be seen running in public, much less in the presence of a King."
"Edward is gone, he would not have seen-"
"His Majesty." he said in a warning tone "Never address his by his Christian name, girl. You're not his Bride yet, despite all the gossip. Come, we've got to get you dressed, we will be attending dinner at your sister's home if you haven't forgotten. They are all quite excited to see you. Even Mildred tore herself away from her books to see you. Let us depart."
As they left she mused on his words. Bride. To a King. That thought had occupied her thoughts so much recently. And Paul had sent her no word, or he'd been unable to. She had no idea if he would still feel the same, or if he ever really felt the same. What she did know is that second to her family, the stable hand Paul Bingham was the person she wanted to see most, after all that had happened.
What she didn't know, is if it was wise to feel that way. But her mind was already made out as she entered Sir Cecil's carriage. She'd see him as soon as she could. What else could she do? Even through all this, he still burned in her mind and she could not deny him.
Would not.