Legacy: The Acclaimed Novel of Elizabeth, England's Most Passionate Queen -- and the Three Men Who Loved Her Read Online Free PDF

sake, what ails you?” snapped Henry, and Jane turned
    her face away into the pillow.
    “My lord—bring Elizabeth back to court and let me show kindness to
    her. I am afraid.”
    Afraid for his unborn son, he knew it. And with Richmond’s death
    still heavy on his heart he too was afraid, afraid of a shadow, a shadow in
    the sun.
    He brought Elizabeth back to court, but he could not bear to touch
    her. He stalked his palace like a hunted fugitive, fleeing the dreadful
    trusting smile of a little girl, but Jane at least was at peace; and her son was
    born safely. They called him Edward.
    The bells rang, the crowds surged around the palace, singing and
    stamping, roaring their delight. Henry roared too, but with rather less
    conviction, for he had been through this before. The bells, the crowds,
    the gorgeous christening—and two months later a tiny coffin laid to rest.
    He woke at every sound, fearful to find them plucking at his arm with
    the dreadful news. “ My lord—the little prince— ”
    That beautiful May day when the Tower cannon fired, he had believed
    that he rode along the river bank to total freedom. Now he knew that
    Susan Kay
    his haunted sleep would never be free of a jealous presence unless he
    accorded it some token of satisfaction. He could not, of course, legitimise
    Elizabeth without making himself a public laughing-stock in Europe, but
    he could grant her a certain measure of status.
    He thought of the christening, traditionally a midnight ceremony and
    no place for small children. He would make his public gesture there.
    And perhaps then he could close his eyes without seeing a bloody
    sword above the neck of his new-born son.
    t t t
    The Lady Elizabeth was to bear the Prince’s chirstening robe to the front
    and be carried there, in the formal procession, by no less a person than the
    Queen’s eldest brother, Edward Seymour, Lord Hertford. The announce-
    ment produced tittering specualtion about the court and stunned silence
    in the nursery.
    Lady Bryan sat heavily down by a smoking fire and wondered
    why this must happen now, when only another week or so would
    have seen her safely installed in the Prince’s nursery. Young Kat
    Champernowne, who had been so eager to take her place, should
    have borne this awful responsibility.
    On the other side of the hearth a fat Welsh nursemaid caught her eye
    and smiled knowingly.
    “Of course, madam, she might be ill.”
    “She’s never ill,” said Bryan glumly. “Never.”
    “She could be, if I doctored her milk. Oh, just a pinch, not enough
    to do her any real harm, but sufficient for the purpose if you follow my
    meaning, madam.”
    Bryan looked up startled, scandalised—tempted. If the woman oppo-
    site had sprouted horns and a forked tail, she would not have been unduly
    surprised to see them.
    A moment more she hesitated then stood up and marched to the door.
    “Blanche Parry!” she announced primly. “You’re not fit to rock a
    peasant’s cradle!”
    “Suit yourself, madam,” muttered Blanche, when the door had closed.
    “It’s your funeral.”
    t t t
    22
    Legacy
    Midnight on a cold October night and the corridors of the palace were
    red with torchlight.
    Elizabeth, released at length from the attentions of her tirewomen,
    climbed on Lady Bryan’s lap for inspection and the final adjustment of
    her coif.
    “Am I beautiful?”
    “Yes.”
    Technically speaking Bryan supposed that was a lie, but doubted that
    anyone would ever notice. Certainly no man. If one as prejudiced as the
    Spanish Ambassador could call her “very pretty” there was little hope for
    the rest.
    “How beautiful?”
    “Don’t be vain!” said Bryan sharply.
    Elizabeth was silent, fingering the folds of her new gown.
    “Don’t you love me anymore?” she asked solemnly.
    “What a question,” said Bryan, shocked and guilty with affection. “Of
    course I love you. I love you very much.”
    “Better than my new brother?”
    Beneath the child’s