KINGS AND PAWNS Chapter XXV
February 22nd, 1556
BEAULIEU PALACE, ENGLAND
She had read the letter a million times over, she had inscribed every word to memory, and slowly a spark of hope began to grow, the small spark that had been born the moment she'd met Margaret Sidney.
That same girl, now Margaret of England, had secretly written Mary before her wedding to the King, to tell her of the nuptials and to assure her that she felt nothing but esteem and affection for her future sister in law, the Princess Mary. She spoke of interceding on her behalf, of bringing her back to court, of being her champion. That Margaret, still but a child herself, wrote such dangerous things to her spoke of her true devotion and friendship. Mary's heart swelled with it, and it seemed that in this God was on her side. She had known from the moment the girl arrived in her rooms, that the Lord had sent the Sidney girl to her. Hadn't he spoken as such? Hadn't he moved her to give away her mother's treasured rosary? There had been other Sidney children at court; all of Margaret's sisters had been Maids of Honor in turn, and Henry Sidney had been close to her brother's household since he was but a boy. But Margaret was the only one who had not grown up there. She had something untarnished and genuine. No matter how much she tried to blend in, you could see it in her face. Anne Sidney had been right in keeping her miracle child far from the same court that Mary, Elizabeth and Edward had grown up in. Her father's court. Ghosts of that horrid time still lurked in corners of Henry VIII's castles, haunting those who lived through those tumultuous years.
Her ladies had claimed she was Elizabeth's puppet, that she would carry the same stain of her heretical, bastard "sister". Mary had rebuffed them, not because she disagreed with their view on Anne Boleyn's cuckoo, but because Elizabeth's disgrace did not touch Margaret. She looked so much like her mother, like the sainted Lady Anne, who had served her mother so faithfully, and who Mary had known even as a young girl. Margaret represented her childhood, when her mother and father were young and in love and she was a Princess of Wales.
Now, the Lady Mary stood in the solar of her palace, far from the glimmering, dangerous court she had grown up in, disgraced and pushed aside. Edward was ushering a new age, brushing away the ghosts of their past as well as he could. His young life would begin now, as he could be considered a husband and a man in his own right. The glory of her brother's reign would begin with his wedding, that is what her contacts heard in the common taverns of London. People supported Margaret, they believed the love between Edward and his bride would usher in a new age for England, an age of prosperity and peace that they longed for.
Even Dudley stood behind her, but of course it helped her cause that she was already legally apart of his family.
Through Margaret, young Viscount Sidney would rise and so would Dudley's daughter Mary. The Sidney and Dudley families were tightly intertwined. Dudley and his fertile wife had done a good job of mixing their blood into the great houses of England and installing themselves as the second most powerful family in England. But now, Margaret spoke of "reuniting Edward's God given kin" and watching "the royal house of Tudor" thrive around her. As Mary read these phrases, she was glad the girl had taken such lengths to keep this letter secret, and hoped the youth she'd sent as her messenger really was trustworthy. She continued to read the missive, her eyebrows raising and falling as she muttered the words to herself.
The royal party would leave Richmond for Westminster by the first of March. There was no word on the set date for the new Queen's coronation, but Margaret claimed that Edward assured her it would be soon after the Lenten season had passed. She would be a consecrated, anointed Queen of England. She would be the first Queen to have a coronation since the whore Anne Boleyn had stolen her mother's crown. Mary mused on the importance of this as Anne Bassett snored lightly on a cushioned chair next to her, the older woman's needle work lying forgotten in her lap. Mary's most senior Lady had scoffed at the news of Edward's new Queen. She was nearly a commoner, and Anne thought it was shameful. She brought no substantial dowry, and all her hastily begotten titles were from her husband. In her eyes, it belittled Edward's throne.
"If she were prettier I'd have half a mind to brand her the next Elizabeth Woodville. A grasping creature, I knew it from the first." she had blurted out, when Mary whispered the news to her ladies.
At that Mary had spun around.
"You speak of the Queen." She had said stonily "My Sister, Queen Margaret. And when you speak of Queen Elizabeth, you speak of my Great-Grandmother, Mistress Bassett."
The older woman's face had gone nearly white with the realization. She hadn't spoken of the subject since. Mary knew that many such opinions would be uttered about the new Queen in the coming days, but she also knew that Margaret was already popular with the people. Margaret might have found herself in a similar situation, the same as Mary's own Great-Grandmother, but she had one advantage that Elizabeth Woodville did not. She had been lucky enough to garner the image of a pure, Protestant maiden and this time the English nobility had romanticized the story of the King's true love for her. And her would-be Kingmaker was her protector instead of sworn against her. John Dudley (ironically enough, the former Earl of Warwick) had seen to it that Margaret was smoothly transitioned from a lowly Knight's daughter to the first woman in England. If Richard Neville had worked so ardently in Elizabeth Woodville's favor, England may have never even endured the Cousin's War at all.
Yes, God had sent her, and with Margaret on the throne there might be hope for Edward's immortal soul, and the souls of all the English who were lost to true salvation and cut off so cruelly from the true church. She was already showing her desire to thwart Dudley's commands. The Duke of Northumberland had been the one to cut Mary and Elizabeth effectively from the court and keep them in seclusion. They were allowed no visitors and their correspondence was all monitored. Margaret's messenger had somehow gotten into the garden himself, and in the shadows of the early evening he had delivered her the letter without being seen. He had come and gone so quickly she had wondered if he were a figment of her imagination. Margaret had told her it was unsafe to write. Dudley was watching her, without a doubt, and she must take her own precautions. Mary knew this to be the truth. She would only have to have faith, and pray, and wait until the day she heard the King's messenger arrive at her gates. Margaret would bring her back to London, and with her help, God could heal her beloved England. With Margaret's help, Mary had begun to hope and that was something she hadn't been able to do for a very, very long time.
February 26th , 1556
HATFIELD HOUSE, ENGLAND
"Oh Kat, it is all so infuriating!"
Elizabeth nearly flung the embroidery she had been working on all morning into the fire. It was bitterly cold out. Most of the heavy snow had melted, but the landscape was still dead and the air was so sharp it cut into one's skin. She stood as her oldest friend calmly continued the last of Elizabeth's mending that week. She began pacing, pulling her fingers through her hair. It hung loose in a long, crimson veil around her. There was no need to plait it or ornament it, in her home there was no one but her household to admire her. She huffed at the thought. The boredom she had endured since before Christmas surged stronger than ever. There was only so many books she could read, and dances she could learn and Greek she could translate. It all wore thin in her gilded cage after she had tasted the happiness the last few years had brought.
It seemed that only yesterday they had been celebrating Edward's eighteenth birthday and the world had stretched out before her like a brilliant jewel. She had been the favored sister, she had been loved by the people. Mary had endured the scorn and derision. Elizabeth had finally felt like she'd shed the shame of the past. The shame of her dalliance with the Baron of Sudeley, the shame of her mother's disgrace, the shame of her father's cruelty and dishonor. Now, she stood alone and abandoned far from her brother's blossoming court. Edward, when he wasn't being priggish and unreasonably fervent, thirsted after the same things she did. Adventure, fun, freedom. All his life he had been shut up by their father, sheltered and protected as the precious Heir. Elizabeth had been shut up herself, but mostly because she was capable in raising her father's ire more often than not. How fitting. To be banished by the father and then again by his son. If Mary were Queen she'd surely exile Elizabeth to the same lonely fate. In her letter Margaret spoke of family and unity, but the three Tudor children had known little of these things. Small, fragmented pieces could be found in their memories, but the happy times were always fleeting.
The young Princess settled in at her windowsill, her crackling irritability fading to a quiet melancholy. She had been rather happy this year. Edward and she had grown close, as they had been as little children. She could still remember holding him and weeping as the news of their father's death had come to them. Edward had begged Elizabeth to stay with him and to never, ever leave. He was an orphan now, just like his sisters, and he had been terrified. But then he had become King. He had first been guided by his Uncle, Somerset, and then by his successor, Northumberland. The former had poisoned Edward against Elizabeth, using her illicit affair with his upstart brother to alienate them. Edward had seen it as a betrayal of both himself and their former step-mother Katherine Parr. The latter had watched as their relationship had mended and then had torn it apart again with his grasping hands.
The thought of John Dudley made Elizabeth bristle. She knew full well he sentence was imposed by the power hungry leech. Edward had been put up to exiling his sister's. even after they had been cleared of any charges concerning Edward's attempted assassination. Dudley's intelligence, though usually swift and efficient, had been unable to uncover the real truths as to what happened. They had been unable to find evidence against either Mary or Elizabeth and had been unable to sniff out real connections between the Prayer Book Rebellion and England's enemies abroad. Elizabeth had wondered, momentarily, why that was. She had theorized that Dudley's people had found nothing because he wanted them to find nothing. Did he have a hand in nearly murdering the King of England? Of course he had two living Heirs, but if he were able to persuade the King to disinherit his sisters...
She shook the thought from her head. He would not dare! He would not attempt regicide, no matter how broad his ambitions. He was the power behind the throne and that was what he wanted. Dudley had what he wanted. So why in God's name did he insist on trapping her behind the red brick walls of Hatfield? Elizabeth stood again, anger coursing through her hot. Kat simply continued her work. Elizabeth's mood swings were nothing new to her. The girl had always been volatile, unpredictable, like her father. Then, other moments she could be cold and calculating. It was a wonder to behold, this formidable young woman's mind was both brilliant and chaotic, it was one of the things Kat loved about her Mistress.
"She claims she will persuade Edward to bring Mary and I back to court." she spat "She is Queen now Kat! Do you remember when she came to us? She was as unpolished as a scullery maid! Everything she knows of the court, I taught her. The daughter of Henry VIII will walk behind Margaret Sidney's train? She was my Lady, my companion and this is how she repays me!"
Elizabeth was making no sense, she knew. Her anger stemmed from frustration, and a sudden burst of envy. She did not want to be wasting away in her country house, her court costumes hanging lifelessly in her wardrobe, while Margaret celebrated at wedding feasts and was cheered by the people as she entered London, a Queen.
"Your Highness," little Madge had written, acknowledging Elizabeth's royal status as she so often did; "I seek your counsel every day. The struggles of Queenship addle my mind. I am untested in the Royal waters and I am cast off my course by many who would capsize me. I wish to reunite the ladies of your chamber and have them around me as ever. I would have my Princess Elizabeth at my side in all things. Know that I pray daily for you, sister, and that I will take it upon me to reunite you with your brother, the King."
Truly, Elizabeth wanted nothing more. Catherine, Jane, Eleanor, Mary and Margaret had been her little brood. They had followed her everywhere, entertaining her, devoted to her, loyal to her. They had said Elizabeth had created a court within a court, bringing youth and life to Edward and his noble subjects. It had all been rather romantic, rather intoxicating, but Dudley had effectively broken that tight-knit alliance. Catherine, Eleanor, Jane and Margaret had all been married and Elizabeth had been sent away to rot. Away from everything, including her friends. Margaret had been the only one to write her. Catherine and Mary had both written her, but both letters were short and impersonal and she knew Dudley would have been looking over their shoulders even as they penned them.
Edward had written her, talking of marriage and admonishing Elizabeth for finding herself caught up in such scandalous plots. She had guffawed, and written him a response repeating her claims of innocence. She repeated many of the things she had said at her hearing, and reminded Edward that those men had been unable to find her guilty. She also told him she loved him and congratulated him on his coming nuptials. He had not responded.
Of course, Robin had written. He had gone about it the same way that Margaret had, with a secret courier. He had been furious with his father, claiming her banishment was unjust. He wanted her at court, he wanted her near him. She had read and reread the letter so many times and then had burned it as well. She had not written him back, but she had ached for him. If Margaret were able to facilitate her return to court, Robin would be one of the people she was most excited to see. She loved him, she knew that now, but what good did that do her? He was married, and thusly lost to her. She knew that the only weight she held was as a possible marriage negotiation if Edward were to need new alliances. She was no old spinster like Mary, at twenty two she was ripe for wedding and bedding. The thought, though abhorrent, was true. If she were to thwart her brother's authority and enter into another unlawful, adulterous affair she might well be executed. Edward had watched as his favorite uncle died by Dudley's machinations and had done nothing to stop it. She was not safe enough to make a choice like that, no matter how much she loved Dudley's son.
But to see him; oh to see him! She wanted that more than anything. No matter how angry she was now, if Margaret could do as she said, Elizabeth had to admit she would be ecstatic. There was also the upside of having the Queen of England so loyal to her; she would always have a powerful protector to keep her safe and an ally against Northumberland's schemes. Already she was defying him, and as far as Elizabeth knew he was none-the-wiser. She would have to be careful, but with Elizabeth at her side Margaret could neutralize Dudley's poisonous influence for good, and all would be right in England.
First, she just had to get back to court.