The Redheaded Princess: A Novel (6 page)

I noticed he was coughing. "How goes it with you, Edward?" I asked.

"I'm fair to middling.”

“Do you like being King?”

“No. I can't do anything I want. The Lord Protector won't let me see the people I want. They don't let me play at sports as much as I would like. I'm never alone for more than fifteen minutes, but I tell you, Elizabeth, there are things I will accomplish as King before I die."

I shivered. "Don't talk of dying.”

“No." And he laughed. "I hear they have two men in the pillory in London for saying I am sick to the point of dying. But, Elizabeth, I have been traveling through London, and you would not believe the situation of the poor! Why, some of them have no place to live." He leaned forward toward me. He took my hand. "It is my plan to give the Palace of Bridewell to the Corporation of London to use as a workhouse for the poor. I know our father closed all the monasteries and many were taken by the noblemen, but I would give Greyfriars Monastery to be a school for poor scholars. I would have St. Thomas's Hospital used for the poor who are sick.”

“God bless you, Edward," I told him.

He nodded. "I like the way you are dressed. You make fools of all the ladies of the court. Let them take example from you." I glowed under the praise. "Now, the matter about which you have come to see me," he said. And he picked up some folded parchment from his desk. "This is for Katharine. I write to her that she need fear no more recriminations because of her marriage. I will not tolerate them from anybody. After all," he told me, "she is my beloved stepmother and he my favorite uncle."

We visited a while longer. We spoke some Latin to each other. We recounted childhood memories. He asked me how I like Roger Ascham, my new tutor, and I told him I scarce knew the man yet.

"I give her my full support," he said of Katharine, "though there is nothing I can do to give her back her jewels." He sounded somewhat bitter and his face took on the angles of one far older, who knew things I did not. I fished a gold velvet purse out of one of the pockets of my gown.

"Sir Tom sends you this," I told him.

He scowled. "So then, people know that the Lord Protector won't allow me much money." He shook the purse and grinned. Then he opened it. Inside were more than enough crowns and shillings to make a nine-year-old boy happy. "But I don't want Uncle Tom to think he's bought me off," he said.

"He knows better," I told him.

"Will you play a game of chess with me, Elizabeth?"

"Of course."

"Then, if they come in and ask you to leave, I can tell them no. Not until we are finished."

Roger Ascham was a man not of great stature but of a great mind. His eagerness showed in his face, his smile. He looked like one of those men who had not been a handsome little boy but had grown into a handsome man. His ears were a little too large, but one could not help liking him immediately. At thirty-three he was already a foremost Greek scholar. But he was also a musician and sportsman. He had gentle brown eyes and praised my writing and my penmanship. He would teach me music and dancing, as well as Greek and Latin, mathematics and philosophy, and all the rest of the subjects a future Queen must have. He was educating me to be Queen then. But he was not beholden to me. I liked the fact that he did not scrape and bow. He taught me to shoot with the longbow, the same as my father had taught my mother. He told me about life at Cambridge, of dicing parties and cockfighting parties and how he had lost so much money in foolish bets.

We worked at Greek in the mornings and Latin in the afternoons. On alternate days we worked on music and dancing, philosophy, mythology, the sciences, religion. Sometimes I caught him gazing at me across the study table when he thought I wasn't paying mind. Sometimes I thought he was looking at me more as a man would than a teacher. But I kept my distance and he respected me. And his admiration lifted my spirits. I was just beginning to learn, after all, how to behave around men. Jane Grey moved in. She came with a carriage full of belongings, a pet cat, books enough to stock a library, and her own tutor, Mr. Alymer. She came with tapestries of the Bible for her room, foot carpets, a bear hide for her cat to sleep on, and a bedcover of crimson velvet. She came carrying her own pillow, like a child. And if all these possessions should seem not in the spirit of the plainness of her wardrobe and beliefs, then it was left to the onlooker to figure it out. Her parents, after all, were rich. She must have favorite possessions.

I did not help her get settled. I must think of my position. Katharine spent the whole day supervising Jane's welcoming into her suite of rooms. She had three bedchambers: one for herself, one for her tutor, and one for her ladies-in-waiting. Sir Thomas gave her a welcoming gift of a doll. Jane accepted it with grace, though I could tell by watching her that her days of playing with dolls were long past. Sir Tom came into my room again the day after Jane arrived. I was just lying there, enjoying the thin morning sunshine and listening to sounds from below the stairs, when the knob of my door turned and he walked in.

"I wanted to thank you for interceding with Edward for us," he said, seating himself on the foot of my bed. "It means much to both of us.”

“He's my brother." I said it rather tartly. I did not like his just barging in and sitting himself down on my bed like that. After all, I was the future Queen of England, wasn't I? I was relieved when he left. It occurred to me too that he could have thanked me at breakfast. Or at any time during the day. I did not know what to do about it, but fortunately, Cat Ashley did. We decided to lock my door at night, though Katharine didn't like it. Suppose I needed someone during the night, she said. I pointed out that Cat Ashley slept in an anteroom and could protect me. So for a while there were no early-morning confrontations with Sir Tom. I still secretly admired him, of course, but had not yet forgiven him for marrying Katharine just like that. As if my refusal had meant nothing to him. And I still did not quite trust him for not telling Katharine about his proposal to me. What kind of a man is he? I asked myself. I was soon to find out.

In early March of the New Year, 1548, Katharine announced to everyone that she was to have a child. Finally. After three previous husbands and twenty years of marriage. She was so happy that the rest of us were happy too. Especially Sir Tom, who promptly announced that it was going to be a boy. But just in case, he went to see an astrologer, who promised him that it would be a boy. And Sir Tom went about all puffed up, like a rooster. And like a rooster, the first awake in the household, he started coming into my room again mornings. He'd had, I soon discovered, his own key made for my locked door.

"It is my house," he told me when I questioned him. "There is nowhere in it I should not be allowed to go." On one morning visit he told me he wanted me to share my tutor and my study time with Lady Jane. "Her tutor is going to Germany for a while. He will be back by summer. But we can't leave her without one. That way you will get to know her better," he said.

"It seems so silly, two girls of near the same age living in separate households.”

“Must I?" I said. "I have no love for her. She's a pious little parrot with her nose in a prayer book all the time.”

“That's not like you, Elizabeth. That isn't the way you've been raised. You would welcome Edward studying with you." How do you know how I've been raised? When I was a child nobody shared anything with me. I didn't even have proper clothing. Cat Ashley had to beg my father for fabric and he never sent it. “You're not a child any longer." His eyes went over my pink nightdress and of a sudden I wanted to pull the neckline up closer.

"Well, then, I'll decide if I want to share my tutor with Lady Jane.”

“Let me know." He got up from the bed. "But you should know that you will disappoint Katharine if you appear selfish in this. And now is not the time to displease Katharine. Do you agree?" I did not answer. He left the room. We were seated in Katharine's apartment taking a repast at nine that night. I looked across the fire-lit room at Jane. She looked younger than twelve. Her hair, a mousy brown, was tucked under a head kerchief. A small nosegay of jasmine was tucked into her bodice. She wore gray, as she always did, long sleeves trimmed with ermine. It wasn't as if she didn't have brighter clothing. My sister had sent her a dress of cloth of gold and a pearl necklace.

"When I have the baby and we celebrate, you should wear the dress Mary sent you," Katharine suggested.

Jane shook her head. "No, my lady. I suppose I shall have to wear it someday when I am Queen, but not now." We were doing embroidery and talking. I pricked my finger with the needle. "When you are Queen?" I could scarce get the words out. I saw her and Katharine exchange glances. Then Katharine smiled but looked down at her embroidery. "We should have told you, Elizabeth. Sir Thomas has adopted Lady Jane, with the promise to her father that he will wed her to King Edward someday soon." My head spun. Marry this little ... oh, I could not think of the word ... this little mouse to my brother? She would indeed then be Queen.

"It is not my idea," Lady Jane said modestly. "And I certainly don't want to be Queen. But if Sir Tom and His Majesty so desire, well, then, I shall do their bidding, of course." She didn't want to be Queen, but she would do their bidding? How did things like this happen? All the while I'd been supposing and pretending and planning to be Queen, and then this little child suddenly finds herself wanted for the position? Didn't she know that fierce battles had been fought, that thousands of men had died, that men schemed for years to take the throne? And she would take it at someone's bidding? I wanted to force back the tears that came into my eyes. This was why I really disliked her, I thought. There was more behind those shy brown eyes than one could imagine. She made me so angry that I wanted to slap her.

"You don't know your place," I told her. "I'm third in line for the succession. You shouldn't go around talking so casually about being Queen. It's ... Why, it's dangerous.”

“Elizabeth!" Katharine gasped. Jane started to cry. And we were like that when Sir Tom came into the room. When Katharine told him what had transpired, he looked at me sternly.

"Apologize to Jane," he said.

"No. I won't. I'm the one who's going to be Queen someday. Not her. I won't apologize to anybody." I wouldn't, either. Sir Tom sat down and took the weeping Jane onto his lap and dried her tears. Yes, I wanted to slap her, the way she leaned against him and played the helpless waif. The next morning he came into my bedroom again.

***CHAPTER SEVEN

He came in and stood there, tall and striking in his leather doublet, ruffled shirt, fancy hose, and boots." Still sleeping, you lazy girl?" he asked. "Come on, get up, we have things to talk about."

"Go away." I turned from him. Then he did something that shocked me. He put his hands on me, on my shoulders, on my chemise and turned me back to him.

"I want to know if you're going to study with Lady Jane.”

“Take your hands off me." But he laughed, like my old Lord Tom did when I was a child and he dispensed sweetmeats to the children in court. And then he drew the coverlet back to tickle my ribs. "Oh, oh stop," I begged.

"Will you apologize to Lady Jane? And let her study with you?" He wouldn't stop. And I couldn't get away. Finally I said I'd let her study with me, but I wouldn't apologize. I don't know what would have happened then if Cat Ashley hadn't come running into the room, along with two of my maids.

"What is this? What's going on here?" Cat stood, horrified, as I squirmed under Lord Tom's hands.

"Get out of here, you old witch," he told her. "I'm having a discussion with my stepdaughter. She's been disobedient and disrespectful and I must attend to it.”

“Oh, Sir Tom, please. I'm responsible for the Princess. What will people say?”

“What people?" He continued to tickle me. Then he slapped me on the rump and I screamed. "What people?" he asked again. She pointed to the maids.

"Out, out!" he ordered them, and when they just stood there staring, he shook them both and slapped them. They left, shrieking.

"They'll tell," Cat Ashley said. "It will be all over that you were in here like this.”

“Not unless you tell them to, you old bag of bones." But he stopped then and looked at me. "I'll be back tomorrow morning. And every morning until you apologize to Lady Jane," he said to me. And then he left.

***

But I wouldn't apologize. And I don't know why. Except that I had to admit to myself that I liked it when he came in every morning and we romped in my chamber, with the maids screaming and Cat Ashley scolding. It was exciting, and the attention he paid me was gratifying. Someone must have told Katharine. Because she started coming in with him mornings and all three of us made a game of it. I don't know why Katharine came with him, but I had the feeling it was because she wanted to make it a respectable game and not so scandalous. Because it was scandalous. It aroused in me feelings I never knew I had for him, and I began to look forward to his coming every morning. Sometimes, when only Cat Ashley was there in the room with us, she would scold him as he came at me in my bed, as his hands reached out and fumbled for me, as I lay there breathless and dazed.

"Sir, I cannot allow such goings-on with the Princess. You will soil her honor!”

“What?" And he'd lash out at her. "Fie upon you, you dirty-minded old lady. I simply call upon her because she is almost my daughter now. Fie upon your bold tongue!"

Lady Jane caught wind of it and took it upon herself to deride me. "It's a dangerous game," she told me. "

But it's only a game," I reminded her, and then: "You're simply jealous because he doesn't come into your chamber. Anyway I can't keep him out."

"You have knights. Station them outside your door," she advised.

"It's Sir Tom's house," I reminded her. "You're asking for trouble, Elizabeth. People talk. This could be construed as treason on his part. You're in line for the throne. You can't have a married man taking over in your chamber. Please listen to me." But I wouldn't, and so it went on, as did the summer, with Katharine's pregnant belly getting bigger and bigger and Sir Tom sometimes going into London and bringing home presents to me and to Lady Jane, who behaved as decorously as ever. Mr. Grindal returned, and with him came the summer. There is some malady that comes to us in the summer, like a serpent. It has always been called the sweating sickness. It came to London, it came to our house, and many of the servants caught it. I did not; nor did Katharine or Sir Tom or Lady Jane, but Mr. Grindal did.