The Lady Elizabeth Read Online Free PDF Page A

schoolroom, enjoying the breeze from the open windows.
    “Shall you like to go to court and see our father and our new stepmother?” Mary ventured, seeing that Elizabeth was very quiet, and hoping to divert her.
    “I want my mother,” Elizabeth said simply, her voice breaking. “They shouldn’t have killed her with a sword.” Her control had vanished: The tears were streaming down her face. But she was bearing her grief quietly. Mary drew her into her arms and cuddled her.
    “I am so sorry, sweeting,” she said. “So sorry…Believe me, I do understand. I too have lost my mother, so we are both in the same case. And we are both bastards now, as our father will have it.”
    Elizabeth ceased crying.
    “What’s a bastard?” she asked. She had heard that word before, had caught it on the tongue of Sir John Shelton when she surprised him talking confidentially to Lady Bryan recently; seeing her suddenly appear in the doorway, both of them had looked up from their talk in startled fashion, and stuttered their greetings. But of course, the word had meant nothing to her then.
    Mary looked as if she were about to weep herself.
    “A bastard is an unfortunate person who is not born in true wedlock,” she explained. “When a man and woman are married, any children they may have are trueborn. But if they are not lawfully married, then their children are bastards. I don’t expect you to understand that, Sister—you are far too young to be troubled with such matters—but suffice it to say that our father the King came to believe he was not lawfully married to either of our mothers, so he put them both away, one after the other, and declared you and me, in our turn, bastards. That means we cannot inherit the throne or rule England after him.”
    “You mean I really am not a princess anymore?” Elizabeth asked miserably.
    “No, Sister, you are not, and neither am I,” Mary answered, her tone bitter. “We are to be honored by all as the King’s daughters, but in law we are bastards. And because we are girls, no one bothers too much, for women are not meant to rule kingdoms. What our father needs now, so very urgently, is a son to be king after him. We must pray that Queen Jane is able to give him one. Will you do that, Elizabeth?”
    “Yes,” agreed Elizabeth doubtfully. “But I do wish I was still a princess.”
     
    “Good-bye, sweet Sister,” said the Lady Mary, stooping to kiss Elizabeth before mounting her horse. “I will tell our father that you are in good health and that your accomplishments are such that he will have cause to be proud of you in time to come. I shall next see you at court, when you are summoned to greet our new stepmother.”
    Elizabeth did not have long to wait for that summons, which arrived at Hatfield a week later in the saddlebag of a messenger wearing the green-and-white Tudor livery.
    “Elizabeth, the King’s Highness has commanded you to Hampton Court,” Lady Bryan told her, looking pleased. “We must start packing at once.” There followed a flurry of activity as a pile of small garments—chemises, gowns, kirtles, sleeves, hoods, and stockings—were dragged from the chest or from their pegs on the wall and packed away in a large trunk. On the top of the pile went Elizabeth’s lute, and the horn book from which she was learning her letters. Her doll was to travel in the chariot with her.
    It was a long journey down the bumpy Great North Road into London, and not a comfortable one, for despite the plump cushions lining the horse-drawn chariot in which Elizabeth traveled with Lady Bryan, the vehicle was unsprung. It swayed and jolted on the bumpy roads, making her feel a little sick, but she was happy to snuggle back into the cushions and ignore the discomforts because she was going to court, to meet her new stepmother! Near Whitehall Palace, however, their progress became easier, because there they could join the private royal road, recently built by the King, that led