The Heretic Wind: The Life of Mary Tudor, Queen of England Judith Arnopp (best books to read in your 20s .txt) 📖

was the heir and they’d best remember it, for she would not forgeta slight against her.”

“The reunion was successful?”

“Not really, no. She stayedbarely five days and then set off back to Hatfield in a peculiar state of mind.Philip wanted me to arrange a match between her and the Duke of Savoy, but shebaulked against it. It was something she clearly deemed beneath her.

“You’d have thought she’d beglad that we regarded her as my successor but … well, I have never determinedwhat really upset her, but something did. Perhaps it was the fear that withPhilip due back in England, I’d get with child again. That would have irkedher.

“Oh, I would have givenanything to fall pregnant and birth an heir right at the last minute. One smallchild would have thwarted her every hope.”

“You must have been happy tohave your husband back in the country, Your Majesty.”

I cock my head, alert forinnuendo, but I sense none, not in this child. I squeeze her fingers and smile.

“I was … for a while, but so muchof my time was taken up with war. I was reluctant for us to be drawn into itbut in the end the rebellion by Stafford forced my hand.

“France was behind it, ofcourse, damn them all. Their persistent interference and support of traitorsagainst me left me in little doubt that they were involved. The council wasagainst the war because of the costs involved and the limitations it wouldplace on trade, but Philip persuaded them. There are limits to what a monarchcan stand.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty.”

Susan clears her throat. “I’vebrought you a powder for your headache, Your Majesty. You really should try tosleep; it will serve you better than all this chatter.”

Anne shifts uncomfortably inher seat. I pat her hand.

“Don’t listen to her, Anne. Ilike our little conversations.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warnyou,” Susan sniffs.

I’d take such insolence fromnobody else, but Susan has been with me for far too long for formality to comebetween us. She is the keeper of my deepest darkest secrets, my night terrors,my innermost fears. I wonder what she will do when I am gone – what will any ofthem do?

“Of course, it was that warthat lost us Calais. The people loved me even less after that.”

I sigh and let my mind trickleback to the day I mark as the beginning of my end. Was it really only a fewshort months ago? Philip and my council were at loggerheads, rebellion wasalways around the corner. There was no peace. Sometimes, when I dwelttoo long on the things I’d lost, the mistakes I’d made, I thought I would gomad, and end my days a raging lunatic.

“After that, I grew so ill Icould think of little else but my own survival. The headaches, the recurrent boutsof nausea – it was awful. It still is. The doctors, in their wisdom, suggestedI might be pregnant, but I was loath to believe it. I didn’t want to bothertelling Philip but the council insisted.”

“Such a shame, Your Majesty.”Anne strokes my fingers, the touch softening my reserve, making my eyes prickwith tears.

“I took to my bed but I didn’torder a lying-in chamber to be prepared. I was afraid ... despite my women’sassurances that my swollen belly indicated a child … I was afraid. I knew I wassick … unto death. Perhaps it is God’s punishment for my failure to bring themback to the true church. A pregnancy would have been a mark of God’s favour. Iwould welcome some sign even now … of his favour.”

Silence rings in my ears.Nobody speaks until Susan hurries forward, snatching my hand from Anne’s.

“Your Majesty, we did not meanto mislead you! I was so happy at the prospect of an heir for you at last that wewere … I was carried away.”

“Even when Philip wrote totell me of his joy at the prospect of a prince, I did not believe it. I did notfeel pregnant, not like before – I felt leaden and full of pain. I am oldbefore my time. I blame the suffering I’ve endured; they say grief ages you. Fromthe beginning, I sensed something was not right but … the doctors are fools.”

“They will heal you yet, YourMajesty.”

“No. No, they won’t.”

I turn my blind eyes towardthem, and a shudder of dread washes over me. What is waiting for me in thedarkness? I grope with my other hand for her.

“I think they knew. I thinkeveryone knew really, and few were sorry, least of all Philip.”

“Your Majesty, that isunjust!”

“Is it? Is it really? Why thenhas he not returned, not even when I have written to him privately of myencroaching death? He doesn’t care. He has never had any love for me but he hasplenty of affection for my throne. No doubt he writes to Elizabeth instead;what could be better than a ready-made king to fall into her lap? She could notdo better if she tried; he is handsome, powerful, the perfect match. She wouldrelish being queen of England and Spain – how the Howards would welcomethat! You can be sure neither she nor Philip will mourn at my passing.”

“I will mourn, Your Majesty. Idon’t know how I shall ever bear it.”

“Nor I!”

Susan and Anne cling to me,our tears mingling, and some strange instinct urges me to comfort them. I amdying, yet I need to protect them from beyond the grave.

“Fetch my casket.” I pull awayand point across the shadowy room. Reluctantly, Susan rises and brings my jewelcoffer to the bedside. I feel inside and draw out a handful of trinkets, pressthem into Susan’s hand.

“When the time comes, you mustaccompany Jane Dormer and Feria to Spain. Do not linger for my interment. Leavethis place as quickly as you can. Things may quickly become difficult forCatholics.”

If it does, I am to blame.

I fumble again and know by thetouch when my fingers alight upon the rosary I carried as a girl. It is a pricelesspiece, crafted in gold, and adorned with pearls and rubies. I grope for Anne,let the thing trickle into her palm. I hear her gasp.

“Your Majesty, it is too…”

“Be silent. It