The Tudor Secret - C. W. Gortner [100]
“As it should be,” I replied. “It is, after all, her throne.”
“I know that. But what if…?” He glanced at the door, lowered his voice to a whisper. “What if we’re wrong? What if her devotion to Rome proves more compelling than her duty to England? Edward was terrified of this very thing. He sought to alter the succession because he believed she would bring us back into superstition and idolatry, overturn everything that their father and he had tried to achieve.”
I started. “Philip Sidney said something to that effect, the night we were in the king’s rooms. But he said Edward had been forced to sign something. And earlier today, Her Majesty told me the council had said she’d been disinherited because of doubts about her legitimacy.” I paused, looking at him. “What do you know that you haven’t told me?”
He did not hesitate. “The doubts about her legitimacy were the excuse. In truth, Edward didn’t think Mary was a bastard; he believed all his father’s marriages were legal. But he also never thought she should become queen. When he signed that addendum barring her from the throne, he did it willingly. But I thought you knew this already.”
“No.” My mind worked fast to absorb this unexpected development. “I thought the duke had forced Edward to sign it so he could name Jane Grey as heir. Are you saying Edward had plans of his own, before he fell ill?”
“Yes. He wanted Elizabeth to rule. He was going to tell her himself. That’s why Northumberland went to such lengths to refuse her leave to visit. He didn’t want Edward and her to meet and hatch a plot against him.”
It all made sense now. There was far more to this tangle of half-truths and lies.
“And how do you know this?” I asked quietly.
Barnaby frowned. “How else? Master Cecil told me. He approached me shortly after Edward suffered his first collapse. He said the king and I were like brothers, and therefore I would understand his concern.”
Again, I felt that sharp twist in my gut. “Concern about what?”
“That the duke aimed to safeguard his own power, regardless of Edward’s desires.” He went to the lone stool in the room and perched. Clasping his hands, he regarded me thoughtfully.
“Edward had been ill for three years; he was losing weight, suffering fevers.… He knew he might not live long enough to ever marry and sire an heir. By right of succession, Mary stood next in line to the throne. Edward was against any rapprochement with Rome, so he invited Mary to court to sound her out. Her refusal to accept the Reformed Faith convinced him of her unworthiness. According to Cecil, he decided to disinherit Mary in favor of Elizabeth. He told Cecil as much, asked him to help draft the necessary documents so he could present his decision to the council. But he developed a terrible rash and soon thereafter fell gravely ill. The duke took over his care. That was the last anyone of the council ever saw of him.”
“Wait a minute.” I held up a hand, the seemingly disjointed final pieces of the puzzle falling like knives into place. “Edward wanted to present his decision without the duke knowing of it beforehand? Why? Northumberland must have shared his concerns about Mary. Why hide it from him?”
Barnaby shrugged. “Edward could be tight-lipped when the occasion warranted. Once he decided against someone, he rarely changed his mind. I think he took a dislike to the duke when he realized how much control Northumberland had over him. In any event, after his collapse, he was denied access to anyone without the duke’s leave, including Cecil.”
“Which is when Cecil came to you.” Had I not been so outraged, I might have admired the sheer audacity. Our master secretary had been far busier than any of us had imagined.
“That’s right.” Barnaby looked confused. “He told me he feared the duke might hasten the king to his death and turn the ax on anyone who tried to expose him.”
“And you believed him.” As I spoke, I recalled that dapper figure with its modulated voice, which could