“Your Highness…my dear Princess…forgive me, but…”
“I must not say such things! I must pray, I suppose, that the Concubine may be fruitful! I must pray that there is peace in this land, even though to bring this about I must declare my mother lived in sin with the King and I am therefore a bastard!”
“My dear…my dear…”
Mary walked away to the window. “Reginald was brave,” she cried, clenching her hands. “He was strong. He did not care if he offended my father. He would not have cared if they had cut off his head.”
“He would have died a martyr’s death and we should have been left to suffer,” answered Margaret soberly. “Let us thank God that he is out of the country at this time.”
“There is a party riding into the courtyard,” said Mary.
Margaret rose swiftly and came to her side.
“They come from the Court,” she said. “I recognize those women as of her suite.”
“We want none of the Concubine’s household here,” Mary cried.
“You must receive them, Your Highness, and hear their business.”
“I will not,” Mary said firmly and went out of the room.
It was not Mary however whom they had come to see, but the Countess. Two women were brought to her and they stated their business briefly.
The Lady Mary was no longer heir to the throne, for her mother was the Princess Dowager and had never been the King’s true wife. Certain jewels were in her possession which were the property of the crown. It was necessary now that these jewels be handed to them, for they were messengers from the King and Queen and had papers to prove this. The Lady Mary’s jewels now belonged to the Princess Elizabeth, and it was Margaret Pole’s duty to give them up.
Margaret stood very still; she had grown pale.
“I know the jewels to which you refer,” she said. “They are the property of the Princess Mary and I should be failing in my duty if I gave them up.”
“They are no longer the property of the Lady Mary. Here is an order from the Queen.”
Margaret studied the order. But I do not consider Anne to be the Queen, she said to herself. I shall certainly not give up the Princess Mary’s jewels.
So she remained stubborn, and the next day when the party rode away from Beauleigh, Mary’s jewels remained behind.
When Mary heard what had happened she praised her governess. “Let them do what they will to us,” she said. “We will stand out against them.”
“They will be back,” said Margaret apprehensively.
Mary held her head high as she declared: “They know I am the true heir to the throne. They must. I shall never stand aside for this young Elizabeth.”
But how could they hold out against the King and Queen? They could show defiance for a while, but not for long.
Queen Anne, in her new power, would not allow Margaret Pole and Mary to flout her wishes. Shortly afterwards a command came from the King: The Countess of Salisbury was discharged from her duty as governess to the Lady Mary and the pension paid to her in that capacity would immediately cease.
When Mary heard the news she was stricken with grief.
“Not you too!” she cried. “I have lost my mother and Reginald…you are all that is left to me.”
“I will stay with you,” answered Margaret. “I shall have no pension but I have money of my own. We shall not allow a matter of my pension to part us.”
Then Mary threw herself into her governess’s arms. “You must never…never leave me,” she said solemnly.
But it was not to be expected that the Queen would allow Margaret to remain with Mary after she had dared refuse to obey a command. She would make the King see what a danger Mary could be. It was clear that she was truculent by her refusal to return what did not really belong to her. Queen Anne had a child to fight for now, and she vas determined that her Elizabeth, not Katharine’s Mary, should be regarded as heir to the throne.
Margaret saw that she had acted foolishly. What were a few jewels compared with real friendship, devotion and love? What would happen to Mary when she had no one to protect her? How would the news that Mary’s governess had been dismissed affect Katharine, who had admitted often that she could feel some comfort knowing that Mary was with her very dear friend?
The edict came. Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, was to leave the household of the Lady Mary, who herself was to be sent from Beauleigh to Hunsdon, where she would live under the same roof as her half-sister, the Princess Elizabeth. And to remind her that she was not the King’s legitimate daughter, and therefore not entitled to be called Princess, she should live in humble state near the magnificence of Anne’s baby daughter.
Bitterly they wept. They could not visualize parting, so long had they been together.
“One by one those whom I love are taken from me,” sobbed Mary. “Now there is no one left. What new punishment will they inflict upon me?”
EUSTACHE CHAPUYS had asked for a private interview with the King.
“Your Majesty,” said the Spanish ambassador, “I come to you because I can speak with greater freedom than can any of your subjects. The measures you have taken against the Queen and her daughter, the Princess Mary, are very harsh.”
Henry glowered at him, but Chapuys smiled ingratiatingly.
“I speak thus, Your Majesty, because it is my great desire to see harmony between you and my master.”
“There would be harmony between us but for the fact that you are continually writing to him of his aunt’s misfortunes. If his aunt and her daughter were no more…that would be an end of our troubles.”
Alarm shot into the ambassador’s mind. Henry was not subtle. The idea had doubtless entered his head that life would be more comfortable if Mary and Katharine were out of his way. The Queen must be warned to watch what she ate; the Princess Mary must also take precautions. Chapuys’s mind had been busy with plans for some time. He dreamed of smuggling the Princess Mary out of the country, getting her married to Reginald Pole, calling to all those who frowned on the break with Rome and the new marriage with Anne Boleyn to rise against the King. He visualized a dethroned Henry, Mary reigning with Reginald Pole as her consort, and the bonds with Rome tied firmly once more. Perhaps the King had been made aware of such a possibility. He was surrounded by astute ministers.
He must go carefully; but in the meantime he must try to make matters easier for the Queen and Princess.
“If they died suddenly Your Majesty’s subjects would not be pleased.”
“What mean you?” Henry demanded through half closed eyes.
“That there might well be rebellion in England,” said the ambassador bluntly.
“You think my subjects would rebel against me!”
Eustache Chapuys lifted his shoulders. “Oh, the people love Your Majesty, but they love Queen Katharine too. They may love their King, but not his new marriage.”
“You go too far.”
“Perhaps I am overzealous in my desires to create harmony between you and my master.”
Henry was thinking: The man’s a spy! I would to God we still had Mendoza here. This Chapuys is too sharp. We must be watchful of him.
He was uneasy. He did know that the people were grumbling against his marriage. They never shouted for Anne in the streets; and he was aware that when Katharine appeared they let her know that she had their sympathy.
“I come to ask Your Majesty,” went on Chapuys, “to show a little kindness to Queen Katharine, if not for her sake for the sake of the people. There is one thing she yearns for above all others: To see her daughter. Would Your Grace now allow them to meet?”