Chapter 30
March 1552
Edward and I were spending a few days with the children at Eltham to celebrate the start of spring and the return of easier travel, when I decided that the time had come to break some news to my husband and children. Some news that I knew Edward would adore.
We were sitting in the Nursery, Katherine cradled in Edward's lap, when I glanced across at her, "Katherine, come here a moment, darling. Madeline, why don't you go to Papa?"
I gently kissed my youngest daughter and then placed her on the floor, watching with pride as she toddled unsteadily towards her father, closing half the distance between them. She stumbled then, but already knowing that she was going to fall, Edward was at her side, sweeping her protectively into his arms.
"Well done, Maddie. Good girl. You're getting so big, aren't you? Who's Papa's big girl? You are, aren't you? Yes, you are."
Edward tickled Madeline's nose as he spoke and she giggled, snuggling back into his warm, strong embrace. Knowing Katherine hated it when Edward did anything that suggested she wasn't his big girl; his Reina, I scooped her quickly on to my lap, averting the possibility of a tantrum.
"Now then, Katherine. You know you're our Princess, don't you? Our Lady Princess?"
"Yes, Mama."
"Do you know what that means?"
"Yes Mama. It means that I'm to be Queen after you," Katherine informed me grandly. Chuckling at her vanity, I smoothed down her hair, "Yes. But you'll have to get married first, of course."
"Ugh!" Katherine's horror was typical of a girl of her age, "I don't want to get married! I hate boys! Why would I have to marry to be Queen?"
"Because the people expect it, Katherine. They wouldn't let Mama be Queen until she married Papa, you know."
"But that's just silly!" Katherine protested.
"It's tradition. A girl can't rule without a husband beside her," I murmured, hoping I was right in what she would say next. Luckily, I was.
"I hate tradition! I don't want to be Queen if I have to get married!"
Though I knew she didn't really mean it, I took her words literally, "You'd better pray that this baby in Mama's belly is a boy then. Then he can be Prince of Wales and be King instead of you having to be Queen and get married."
As I spoke, I raised my head to look Edward in the eye. I had the satisfaction of hearing him gasp before he called for Katherine's governesses to come and take the girls and pulled me out of the room.
"You're with child?"
There was no point in trying to deny it. I nodded.
"About a month along. The midwife confirmed it last week."
"You should have said! I could have taken better care of you! What if the travel -"
Sighing inwardly, I stopped Edward's exclamations with a gentle kiss.
"Hush, sweetheart. I appreciate your concern, I really do. But honestly, Edward, am I not a Tudor? Am I not a Howard? Do I not have strong blood coursing in my veins? I am England's first Queen Regnant, England's own Isabella of Castile. Like her, I feel I could ride a thousand miles before my child could come to any harm."
"You will not be doing that. I won't have you risking it," Edward snapped. I conceded the point.
"No, husband. Of course not. But I'll be able to get home to Richmond. I'm sure of it. It's early days yet, remember?"
Edward looked less sure, but knowing there was no other choice, he reluctantly yielded, though only once he had stipulated, "We'll take it slowly. And if you feel even the slightest bit out of sorts, you'll call a physician. Promise me."
"I promise," I assured him, before we kissed again and then parted to go our separate ways.
That evening, Edward and I were dining before the courtiers and the common people, as we made a point of doing every fortnight or so, even when we didn't have distinguished visitors paying court to us, when Edward suddenly leaped to his feet, raising his goblet.
"My Lords and Ladies, People of England, I'd like to propose a toast. A toast to my most beautiful wife and Queen, Elizabeth, who has recently told me that England has every chance of a lusty Prince in the autumn. God Save and God Bless the Queen and the future Prince!"
"The Queen and the Prince!"
The full-throated roar caught me slightly unawares. I hadn't expected Edward to announce my pregnancy so soon. But as he turned to me and held out his hand, inviting me to rise to stand beside him, I felt a surge of wild joy swell inside me.
Beaming down at the cheering crowds, I basked in the glorious glow of my own fertility.
Though I didn't know it at the time, that night was in fact the last joyful night I would have for quite some time.
We left Eltham the next day, so not only was I suffering the pain of parting with my two beloved daughters, the days and nights were also filled with the worry of whether or not the travels would do our growing child any damage.
And, the very night we returned to Richmond, there was an urgent message waiting for us, the contents of which sent us reeling and had far-reaching consequences for all the plans I had laid so carefully over the past three years.
I hadn't even changed my gown from the one I had worn to ride into Richmond, when Edward came rushing into my chamber.
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth! You'd better come quickly!"
"Edward, I was hoping to -"
"Whatever it is, there's no time for it. This is an emergency!"
Edward's voice was fiercer than I had ever heard it. It was enough. Picking up my skirts, I gave him my hand and let him pull me through the secret passages to our Privy Council Chamber at a run.
It was only as we neared the doors that I insisted on slowing down and that was only because I wanted to enter the room with at least some slight semblance of dignity.
To my surprise, however, the room was almost empty. Only my father in law and our Secretary of State, William Cecil, stood near the dais.
Seeing a space this large so empty, when it was usually so busy and vital, sent eerie shivers down my spine. Instinctively, I tightened my hold on Edward's arm.
"What's going on?" I whispered.
"I don't know, Elizabeth, darling," he admitted, but that was all we had time to exchange before we were spotted by his father, our Chancellor.
"Ah, Your Majesty. Your Highness. Forgive the intrusion, but a messenger has just arrived from the North and he bears news that I felt you ought to know immediately. "
Edward and I exchanged glances. Blanche had left Court after New Year, intending to go North and progress through my lands in Yorkshire and the rest of the North before sailing for Ireland once more. If something had happened to her…
Jaw set, Edward nodded at his father, "Show him in."
Cecil opened the side door and a young man, who couldn't have been much older than Blanche, half-fell into the room. Flushing beetroot red, he slid into a bow, clearly not realising that we were both too wound up to care much about the formalities.
"Queen Elizabeth. Your Highness."
"Well?" I snapped. "Who are you? What news do you bring from the North? What of my sisters, Queen Blanche and Lady Northumberland?"
He snapped to attention. "I am James FitzMarsh, My Lady Queen. I have ridden from the North without stopping; I have let no one else handle this missive; I -"
Sensing I was gritting my teeth on a wave of impatience, Charles Brandon intervened, "Cut to the chase, FitzMarsh. Tell Their Graces what you told us."
"Then…I regret to have to tell you this, Your Majesty, but the Princess Blanche has married."
"What? Impossible! She's betrothed! She isn't Princess Blanche anymore; she's Blanche, Queen of France!"
My first reaction was a swift, harsh denial of James's words. Holding up a hand, Edward spoke next. As always, he played the role of reason to my passion.
"Is this true? Whom has she wed herself to? And how did we not hear of it?"
James looked relieved that one of us, at least, was being fairly reasonable and addressed himself to my husband as he continued, "Her Highness has married Lord Ormonde. They eloped to Gretna Green at the end of Her Highness's tour of the North and were married there. As Your Grace knows, even though Gretna Green is in Scotland, it is not actually under either English or Scottish jurisdiction, so no one thought to inform us of their union. The first we heard of it was when the Princess Blanche refused to sail under the Royal Standard, choosing instead to fly the Ormonde colours, as befitted her rank as a Countess."
"She sailed from Whitby?" My husband's response was half statement, half question. James nodded.
"Aye, Your Grace. The Princess did indeed sail from Whitby. Lord Ormonde accompanied her. He encouraged her to leave a message behind at the barracks for Her Majesty. Upon receiving it, my commander ordered me to ride for London immediately.
"But this must be at least a week hence," Edward deduced. "Whitby's a fair ride from London."
"Aye. I set off six days ago, My Lord."
"They'll be across the Irish Sea by now. And Ireland is loyal to the both of them. Pursuit is fruitless," Edward murmured, before raising his voice, "Very well, James. Have you the Princess Blanche's letter there. Give it to Her Majesty."
"No. I'll not accept it. Not until you bring me news that she has accepted that she is Queen of France and therefore cannot be lawfully married to George Boleyn, Earl of Ormonde."
My voice was hollow; like the rest of me, it was hollow with anger. Edward laid his hand over mine.
"Elizabeth. We have to at least look at it. We have to check for ourselves whether the letter is genuine. Whether she really has married him."
"Then you do it."
"The letter's for you, love."
"And I give you full permission to examine it."
So saying, I jerked my head at James and he moved forward, placing the letter in Edward's outstretched hand.
As he did so, I averted my eyes, though that did nothing to block out the crisp rustle of parchment as Edward turned the missive over, carefully studying its every inch. At last, I couldn't help myself any longer. I had to know.
"Well? Does he speak true? Is it from Blanche?"
"It has her seal on it and it appears to be unbroken."
It was enough. Withdrawing my hand from under his, I rose to my feet.
"You let her stay. I would have sent her to France eight months ago, but you pleaded with me to let her stay. You let her stay and now look what we have to deal with."
I turned on my heel and stalked out of the room, leaving Edward staring after my retreating back, Blanche's letter resting in his lap.