My Story: Lady Jane Grey (My Royal Story) (6 page)

I am home. But I wish I were not. I wish I were anywhere but here.

I thought they would show me sympathy. I thought they would share my grief. My mother was the Queen’s friend and as I curtsied to her I saw plainly the marks of sorrow on her face. I wanted to run to her and cry in her arms. But they did not even mention her.

“She has grown a little,” Mother said to my father – as if I wasn’t there.

“She is very accomplished,” my father said.

“Hmm. She has been treated too softly, it is easy to tell,” Mother replied. I felt angry. Can they not understand how I feel?

I had a warmer greeting from my sister Katherine. Little Mary – it hurts to say that name, it reminds me of the Admiral’s baby – hid behind her nurse when she saw me. It is nearly two years since she last saw me, and she did not recognize me. She was only an infant when I left. She is too ungainly to walk easily, but has the loveliest smile.

Katherine hugged me. “Are you very sad?” she asked. I nodded, feeling tears begin to trickle down my nose. She ran to fetch her pet monkey. She put him on her shoulder and made him do tricks to cheer me. I think we will be friends.

I was astonished to hear Sir John Harington’s voice in the hall today. I long to know why he came. Does the Admiral still wish me to return to his household? No one will say and Sir John has ridden away again now.

I wish I could have left with him! I am so lonely here. My sisters are too young to be my companions and anyway, Katherine does not share my love of learning, and skips off from lessons as soon as she can. She is much happier dancing or on horseback.

I wondered if my parents would say anything when I knelt to receive their blessing this evening, but they did not. When I dared, I raised my eyes to their faces, but they gave nothing away.

So I am wilful and lack humility, do I? If I were more gently taught, maybe I would learn these lessons more readily. I try to please, but they always find me wanting. But I will be as docile and humble as even they wish if they will only let me leave.

I had stopped to listen when I heard their voices raised outside the door. I knew I should not but I could not help it. I felt sure it was me they were talking about.

“She is wilful and needs a mother’s care,” I heard my mother say. There! Who else does she say such a thing of? “She has been allowed too long a rein and does not show the humility she should,” Mother carried on to my fury. How can she say such things!

“Lady Seymour will take good care of her,” I heard Father say. I held my breath, willing Mother to agree.

She snorted. “Lady Seymour is old. No, she will do better here.” I know what
that
means. I pray that Father can change Mother’s mind.

A letter arrived for me today. It was from Elizabeth Tilney and was put into my hands by the Admiral himself. Elizabeth writes that she misses me and hopes that I will rejoin their household. Is that why the Admiral has come? Will he persuade them to let me go? I am not hopeful, but merely to see him lifted my spirits. I did not know whether to laugh or cry when he told me I had grown into a fine young lady. It is only a few weeks since I last saw him, but it feels like years. He was accompanied by Sir William Sharington – a gentleman I had seen sometimes at Seymour Place. Sir William is a treasurer at the Mint. He spent most of the time talking to Mother. I do not know what he said to her, but he made her laugh.

I am almost too happy to write. I am leaving! I am returning to the Admiral’s household. Somehow Mother has been persuaded to let me go. I do not know how, nor do I care. I am leaving and soon I will be among my friends again, under the care of the kindest guardian a girl could wish for.

I am writing at an inn – the same inn I stayed at when I travelled to London last year. It is some days now since I bid my family farewell. I tried to hide my glee. I held little Mary close, feeling the hard hump in her little crooked back. She will never grow straight and strong.

“You have only just come home and now you are leaving us again,” Katherine said mournfully as I hugged her.

“I will see you when you come to London,” I said. I will miss them but as soon as the great door at Bradgate had shut behind me, I felt as if a burden had lifted from me. I remember the last time I left Bradgate for London. Then I wished the journey would never end. Now I wish my horse could fly. And how tediously slow our journey has been. At Leicester important officials came to greet me and I had to listen while the Mayor made me a long and boring speech. Then the Lady Mayoress presented me with a gift of a gallon of wine. They were kind, but how I wished them all at the ends of the earth. I will be thankful when we reach the city. And so now I will put away my journal and try to sleep, the sooner to hasten the morning.

I feel as if I have come home, and yet I do not. It is not the same. I am glad we cannot go to Chelsea (the house was returned to the Crown when the Queen died). It is too full of happy memories.

Everyone seemed pleased to see me, and I had scarcely put one foot through the door when a little dog scampered up, barking joyfully. “Rig!” I cried, gathering him into my arms. “So – you remember me!”

As I held him close, feeling his warm fur against my cheek, I heard the swish of a gown behind me. “Lady Jane!” I looked up to see Elizabeth Tilney beaming at me. We flew into each other’s arms.

“You see, all your friends are here to greet you,” said the Admiral coming forward, a big smile on his face. Not all my friends. Not quite. I felt a sudden lump in my throat. The smile fell off the Admiral’s face as if the same thought was in his mind, but he recovered himself quickly and ordered that my bags be taken to my apartment. Lady Seymour greeted me kindly. But there is one other person I will not see. Baby Mary is now living with Lady Suffolk. I will miss her, but Lady Suffolk’s sons will pet and spoil her.

The Admiral was very merry at dinner. We had visitors from the Court and he said things that were not very wise judging from the way they looked at each other. Elizabeth whispered that his moods change as swiftly as the weather. Sometimes he is merry as now, and then he falls into a black humour growling that the Protector’s pride will come before a fall. (Somerset House is
still
not finished!) My nurse says he is grieving, but I can tell that she is worried. “He lacks a steadying hand,” she says. I miss the Queen sorely. For all that, I am glad to be here, away from home and anyway I have my books, my friends, and little Rig to console me.

I have just returned from Court, and I am mightily ashamed of myself. I cried. Actually cried. In front of my cousin – the King! I cannot think what came over me, but as I raised my eyes to Edward’s I saw how bleak his were. He has lost the only mother he ever knew, I told myself, and I felt so sorry for him, and for me and to my horror I felt two fat tears roll down my cheeks. I do not think Edward noticed and I gulped down the rest of my tears. But Mother did. As I backed away from the King’s presence, I saw her face. She looked appalled. Later, she took me aside. She was furious. “Why must you make a display of yourself?” she said. She sounded very bitter, as if I have in one stroke spoilt all their plans for me.

I wish Master Parry would not come here so often! He has a loose tongue. I am sure he is the source of the evil gossip being spread abroad. Surely it is not true? That the Admiral hopes to marry the Lady Elizabeth? That is what idle tongues say. And worse – that he is in love with her. Was in love with her even when she was living with us at Chelsea. How can anyone think that! He loved the Queen. Of that I am sure. Did no one but me witness his grief when the Queen died? Besides he would need the permission of the King and Council to marry the Princess. His brother would never grant it!

Time passes slowly. Soon it will be Christmas. I will see my sisters but I cannot think it will be a merry time. Master Parry returned today – but that is hardly news. He is here so often. Elizabeth said she saw him walking up and down the gallery with the Admiral for a good hour. What business brings him here so often? I wish he would stay away. But I refuse to listen to the gossip. I refuse to think ill of the Admiral.

Elizabeth has confided that she feels afraid. So do I though I do not know why. The house feels alive with rumour. In the shadows I fancy I see people move and whisper. I jump like a startled kitten every time there is a knock on the door. But the Admiral seems unafraid. He was whistling when he left for Parliament today, as if he has not a care in the world.

I was searching for Lady Seymour’s spectacles this afternoon – she can
never
remember where she has put them! – when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped with fright.

“It is only me,” I heard Elizabeth whisper. “Come. I have something to tell you.” I followed her into a quiet corner, where the servants would not hear us. Elizabeth’s face looked very serious, and I felt nervous suddenly. “It is said that the Admiral plans to force Parliament to grant him governorship of the King’s person,” she whispered.

I was bewildered. “Why would he want to do that?”

“To get the King’s ear. He who has that has all the power,” she told me. I shivered. That is true enough. Until Edward is of age he is at the mercy of powerful men. “It is said that he seeks to marry the Princess Elizabeth,” she went on.

I shook my head vigorously. “I have heard that,” I said. “But I do not believe it.” Later I asked Nurse what she thought.

She snorted: “He needs a good woman, not a chit of a girl.” She is no help.

Sir William Sharington’s house has been searched. It is said that he has been helping himself to funds from the Bristol Mint. But
I
do not think that is the only reason he has been taken away for questioning.

I feel sure I am right because this morning, even before the servants were up, we had a secret visitor, a servant from the Earl of Rutland’s house. Well, it may have been secret then, but it is no secret now. All the servants are talking about it. Men from the Privy Council went to the Earl’s house in the middle of the night, and woke him up to question him. The Earl is only twenty-one. He must have been terrified because he blurted out anything he could think of to save his neck. He even said that the Admiral planned to kidnap the King by force. I refuse to believe it. People will say anything when they are terrified. Anyway, one of the Earl’s servants has a brother here so he made haste to come and warn him. The Admiral’s servants love him as much as I do.

Father and my uncle Lord Thomas Grey were rowed to Seymour Place today. As they stood talking in the hall I caught a few of their words.

“No. The Admiral will not obey the Council summons,” said Father.

“Then he is a fool,” put in my uncle. But they both still stand by him, and I am glad. I feel as if am holding my breath. Waiting. Waiting for something to happen. Nurse is no comfort. She is forever quoting proverbs at me. “Pride comes before a fall,” she said to me today. She means the Admiral. I told her to hold her tongue.

I am sitting up in bed, writing by the light of one candle. I asked Nurse to leave it lit when I got into bed. I cannot sleep. How could I, on such a dreadful night? The Admiral has been arrested and taken away for questioning. I pray that he has not been taken to the Tower. Poor Lady Seymour fainted when the news was brought to her, and had to be revived by her ladies. She was led away, weeping, to her apartments.

I could not even bid my guardian farewell. My father held me back growling: “Little fool, do you wish to destroy us all?” I felt ashamed. Is this how he defends his friend? But I am told that he sprang out of his chair his hand on his sword when he heard that men had come to arrest the Admiral. The Admiral himself I am told was calm, calling for a goblet of wine to be brought him, and draining it before quietly leaving the chamber. My uncle says he should have answered the Council’s summons. “He should have trusted to the Protector’s mercy.” Ha! Do they think
that
would help him?

As soon as the Admiral had left, I ran upstairs to my chamber and pressed my face up close to the pane. Down below in the torchlight I saw him walk to the landing stairs. I willed him to look up and see me, but he did not even turn round. May God keep you safe, I whispered softly as he climbed into the barge. A servant bent to untie it, and the rowers pushed it away from the bank with their oars. I kept my eyes on it as it slipped away, though by then I could hardly see at all for tears. The servants returned slowly to the house. Their hearts must surely be as heavy as mine. He was a good master. As for me, I will never forget his kindness. I fell to my knees where I stood and prayed for his safety. The tide is with them. They will have reached the city by now.

I am back at Dorset Place. We returned by an early tide. It was barely dawn when I woke to find Nurse pulling the curtains round my bed aside. She bid me hurry and dress. My belongings were being thrust hurriedly into chests and bundles. I was halfway downstairs before I realized that I had forgotten my journal. In a panic I ran back to my chamber. My hand trembled as I slipped it under my pillow. What if it wasn’t there? What if someone had found it? What relief it was to feel its soft leather under my fingers.

The barge rocked up and down, as we clambered hastily aboard. I took my place next to Father under the canopy. Neither of us said a word. I looked back longingly at the house as the barge slid away from the bank. How happy I had been there. How could my life have changed so suddenly and horribly? I had not even been able to bid either Lady Seymour or Elizabeth farewell. When would I see them again? Would I ever see the Admiral again? The water was choppy out in the river, but I was too miserable to feel sick.