Chapter 32

I came to on my own bed, staring up at my own velvet hangings. I lay there, gathering my thoughts as I waited for the world to stop spinning.

The last thing I remembered was Edward running from the room as I collapsed into Anne's arms, stomach turning over as my third child threatened to expel itself from my womb months before its time. Had we managed to save the child? I had to know.

And before that. Edward had promised to pardon my half-brother, Lord Nottingham, after I had signed his death warrant. He'd promised to ride for the Tower and see what he could do. Had he managed it? I wanted to know that too.

Stifling a groan, I struggled into a sitting position.

"Your Majesty! Elizabeth!"

The curtains of my four-poster bed flew open and I found myself staring into the worried eyes of my younger sister, Lady Eleanor Dudley, Baroness Sudeley.

"Nora," I croaked, "What are you doing here?"

"John and I were in London. When I heard you were sick, wild horses couldn't have kept me from you," Nora explained, pushing a couple of extra silken pillows behind my back to support me.

The door opened and I heard footsteps before Nora disappeared, "She's awake, Mama."

"Praise the Lord! Have you told her the good news yet?"

"No."

"Then I'll do it. I was actually here, after all."

Mary Stafford nudged Nora out of the way, sinking to her knees beside me, "God be praised, my Lady Queen! God be praised! We thought we'd lost you!"

"Mary, please. Call me Elizabeth," I waved her courtesy aside distractedly, "This isn't the time for protocol. The baby…"

"Lives strong and well inside you, Thank God. Dr Owen was able to save His Highness's life."

I closed my eyes in relief. If I hadn't been sitting down, I would have sunk to my knees in thanksgiving.

"This is the Lord's doing and it is marvellous in our eyes," I murmured, clasping my hands over my belly, trying to envision my little boy nestling inside, as he gained in size and strength. Mary Stafford nodded.

Yes. However, Dr Owen has forbidden you to exert yourself. It would not be good for the child. Or for you. You've been unconscious for almost three days, Elizabeth."

"Three days!" I exclaimed. Nora sprang to my side to reassure me as I fought to free myself of the bedcovers.

"It's all right, Beth. It's all right. Edward's been taking care of things. Anne's been helping him. he's been doing a good job. England hasn't been abandoned. I promise."

"Where is Edward, come to that?" I asked, glancing around in search of my husband.

"In a Privy Council meeting, but trust me, he'll be here as soon as it's over. He's spent every minute he can afford in here with you."

I smiled. I had never thought of myself as vain, but Edward's undying devotion to me would have been enough to turn any girl's head.

Looking past Nora towards Lady Susanna, I waved her over, "Help me change, would you, Susanna? You and Nora? I want to look my best for Edward."

"He won't care," Nora protested. "He'll be too happy to see you awake."

Nonetheless, when I fixed her with a death glare, she helped me, dressing me in cream velvet trimmed with red satin and looping strings of rubies and moonstones over my head, so that, when Edward's footstep sounded in the antechamber, I was able to turn towards the door, resplendent in the Tudor colours.

At the sight of me smiling up at him, Edward gasped audibly, "Elizabeth! Oh, Elizabeth! Oh, my darling!"

"Yes, Edward. It's all right. I'm all right."

I allowed him to smother me in affection for a while, then asked my sister, cousin and other ladies to leave the room before turning back to him and turning serious, "Edward, I need you to tell me. Did you manage to save my brother?"

Edward's face clouded over and he sighed, "I'm afraid not, Elizabeth. I rode for the Tower as hard as I could, but he was already on the scaffold when I got there. There was nothing I could do."

I winced, "Was it at least a clean job?"

Edward hesitated, then shook his head, "The first shot failed to sever his neck, though it went deep, deep enough to make him gasp in pain. In fact, blood squirted from his mouth and the wound on his neck until the axe came whooshing down again and sliced through his neck. Don't worry, he didn't suffer any more. The job was finished second time around."

"Oh, God." My hand clamped itself over my mouth as I struggled against a wave of nausea. Edward caught my other hand, rubbing it tenderly in a vain attempt to soothe me, "It had to be done, Elizabeth. You were right, it had to be done. He died declaring himself the rightful King of England. He called you a bastard, even as he stood on the scaffold."

I nodded, inhaling shakily, "What did he say? Tell me exactly what he said."

Edward demurred at first, but I kept on at him until he told me.

"He said, "My Lords, I, the rightful King of England, stand here before you and proclaim my innocence. For I, the rightful King of England, have been sentenced to death by a Bastard Queen because of the elopement of a Bastard Princess. But know this, with my death, I do die a true and faithful King of England, and, when Your Queen falls, you will all see that! I, Edward VI, King of England, Ireland and France, do hereby willingly die for my beliefs. I do not atone for my actions, for I am King, and was right, true and proper in my actions." That's when he knelt, darling, after he'd said that. The axe came down, but not before he'd cried out, ""God damn The Bastard Elizabeth!""

I clenched my jaw in anger. How dare he? How dare he cast a slur on my legitimacy? My brother had been the bastard, not me. Father had undergone a rite of marriage with my mother, not his. Even through my rush of anger, however, I noticed that Edward had gone eerily quiet. I reached for his hand, "Edward? What's wrong?"

"That wasn't the worst of it," my husband said hollowly, blanching at some other, even more horrifying memory "He'd gone bald, Elizabeth. After all these years, he'd gone bald. When the executioner held his head up, the wig fell off. It – the head – rolled off the scaffold. It – it landed – landed at my feet. It was like – I've been in battle, Elizabeth, but this was something else – it was as if – as if – He was staring right up at me – as if – as if – as if he was cursing me."

The dreadful words finally spoken, Edward buried his head in my bedclothes, visibly trembling. I stroked his dark hair, murmuring comforting platitudes, as though Edward was just a child.

"Edward. Edward, listen to me. He can't. He can't curse you. He's not a sorcerer. He's not. He's just a normal young man. And our child is safe. Our Prince. He's safe. He's safe and he's strong. He's growing strong and healthy. Just like his father. He'll be the finest Prince of Wales England has ever seen. There's nothing Lord Nottingham or any of our other detractors can do about it. Nothing. Just hold on, my love, and the final triumph will be ours. I promise."

At last, Edward raised his head. His eyes locked with mine and, to my horror, his eyes were burning fiercely. In that instant, I knew the last vestiges of his boyhood gaiety were gone. Gone forever.

His voice rang hollow with exhaustion as he said, "We have to get the family together. We have to show the common people that we're still strong, despite what's happened."

I nodded in approval as he echoed my very thoughts. After five years in the role, Edward was at last learning to think like a King. "You're right. Maria's in the country, isn't she?"

"Yes. Ruy isn't, but she is."

"Then bring her to Court. Bring her and our daughters to Court. They are our future, Edward. Your Reina is a future Queen. We have to show the people that. As you said, we have to show the people that. You, me, Maria, Anne, Katherine and Madeline. We have to show them they can rely on us."

Gripping my hands as though they were a lifeline, Edward nodded yet again. After that, the two of us just sat together for a while, each lost in our own thoughts, drawing solace from the companionable silence that stretched between us.

Anne came to see me the next day, dropping a brief half-curtsy before rising to kiss me on the forehead tenderly, as befitted an older cousin.

"Elizabeth. It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"A great deal better than I was, thank you, Anne."

"Well enough to deal with matters of State?"

"Of course. I have to be. I am a Queen," I forced a smile, gesturing her to seat herself beside me. She looked uncharacteristically tense, twisting her hands together and pleating the skirts of her gown with her fingers.

"Anne?" I leaned forward, trying to catch her eye, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I've been thinking. The French alliance. We need it, really."

"What? You mean the one my sister's just left in ruins? I know we do. But when the news of her elopement reaches France, we're done for. King Henri still needs a bride and he won't be looking on English shores again. We've messed him around too much already, what with Blanche pleading to have an extra year here. Now we haven't got a bride to offer him at all."

"Not necessarily," Anne said smoothly.

About to launch into another rant about my sister's disobedience, I stared at her, "What do you mean? Blanche has just thrown herself away on your brother. Unless we can find a way of annulling that marriage before Henri finds out, we're done for."

"Not necessarily," Anne repeated, "I could marry him."

I gaped at her, "What? No! We need you here! England needs you!"

"England needs me to do my duty, nothing more. Think, Elizabeth. I'll be the one to break the news to Henri anyway, at least officially. I'm still only twenty-five. I'm young, strong and healthy. All right, I'm not a virgin, but no one would expect that, not after my having been married to your father for two and half years. No widow is expected to be pure, especially not a Queen Dowager. If the dowry was right, Henri would be a fool not to accept me. I could marry him in Blanche's stead. I could marry him in Blanche's stead and we could still salvage the alliance."

"And you'd do it? After everything my sister's done, you'd do it? For her sake?"

"No. Not for her," Anne admitted, "But I would do it for yours. Yours and England's. We need this alliance, Elizabeth, and I would gladly do it for the sake of that."

Anne fell silent for a few moments, letting me process what she had just said, before gently urging, "So do I have your permission, Elizabeth? Shall I write to Henri, officially informing him that Blanche is now unable to fulfil her betrothal to him and proposing a union between the two of us instead?"

I waved a hand. I was still too stunned to speak.

A week later, my sister Maria and my daughters by Edward were safely ensconced at Court and we were preparing for our public appearance.

I gave orders for our daughters, three year old Katherine and fifteen month old Madeline, to be gowned in white satin, a colour which served both to emphasise their purity and innocence and to ensure that, when Edward and I stood with them, clothed in ruby velvet, we made up the colours of the Tudor Rose.

Edward refused to let me carry either of the girls, given my condition, so, much though I hated it, I had had to yield Madeline to Maria.

In the end, Edward and I compromised; rather than Katherine being in his arms, as she usually was, if she wasn't in mine, neither of us held our daughters this time. Instead, Anne and Maria, both dressed in pale green taffeta, balanced them on their hips as they stood at our shoulders.

With everything prepared, I went to rise out of bed to dress for the public appearance.

However, because I had barely left my bed since my near-miscarriage, my legs were still weak and I stumbled as I made my way to my dressing table, where Lady Lucy and Lady Susanna stood ready. Edward, who was in the room, eyed me worriedly, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"It's not a case of what I want to do. It's a case of what the people need me to do," I retorted, though I did make a concession and ask Lady Lucy not to lace me as tightly as she usually did.

Once I was dressed, I reached out for Edward and took his arm, leaning on him. He caressed my cheek.

"You look beautiful, my darling."

"Will they like me? The people?"

"Like you? They'll love you! You're their Queen Elizabeth. They'll love you," Edward assured me, briefly pressing my hand where it lay on his sleeve. Then, glancing over his shoulders, he blew our daughters a kiss and glanced at Anne and Maria, wordlessly telling them to fall into step behind us, which, scooping the girls into their arms, they did.

A second later, the guards flung open the doors of our balcony.

We stepped out and the crowds beneath erupted, shouting, stamping, clapping and cheering.

My heart swelled with pride and delight. They adored us. They adored us; their love for us made me feel proud to be their Queen.

"God Bless Your Majesty!" The shout was loud, heartfelt and spontaneous. As it was followed by another of, "God Be with His Grace!" I linked my hand with Edward's and we raised them, acknowledging the crowd, before signing for our daughters to be brought forward.

"In return for your loyalty, good people, we present to you England's future!" Edward shouted, "We present to you England's Thornless Roses: the Princess Katherine and the Princess Madeline!"

"God Save and God Bless Their Highnesses!"

It was roared back at us, so that we were very nearly deafened. Edward and I exchanged delighted glances. This public appearance could not have gone better!