The Tudor Secret - C. W. Gortner [96]
Rochester sniffed. “Her Majesty will decide his fate once she takes her throne. It shan’t be enviable, I would think. At best, a cell in the Tower for the rest of his days; at worst, the ax, along with the rest of his traitorous kind. I vote for the ax, myself. Ah, but Her Majesty will be pleased to see you. She’s asked about you several times.”
The last of my brief exultation faded. Like Rochester, I should have been rejoicing in this blow to the Dudley cause. Without Robert, the task of apprehending Mary became all that more difficult. Yet all I felt was fatigue falling over me like a mantle. I wanted only a hot bath, solitude, a cot, and to shut out the world for a time.
I did not want to think of how I would tell Elizabeth.
We entered the manor, climbed a staircase to a rustic upper hall. Mary waited there, dressed in a plain black gown and gable headdress that looked too heavy for her thin shoulders. She paced back and forth as if its weight were of no account, dictating in a stern voice to a harried secretary whose quill couldn’t possibly scratch fast enough to record the torrent of words issuing from her lips.
“Wherefore, my lords, we require and charge you, as your rightful sovereign, that for your honor and the surety of your persons, you employ yourselves forthwith upon receipt of this letter to proclaim us queen in our capital city of London. For we have not fled our realm nor do we intend to do so, but will die fighting for that which God has called upon us to defend.”
Rochester cleared his throat. I bowed low. “Your Majesty.”
She swirled about in her abrupt manner, peering at me. She was, apparently, severely nearsighted, for she blinked several times, her brow furrowed in perplexity before she exclaimed, “Ah, it is my mysterious friend,” and motioned with her hands. “Rise, rise! You’re just in time. We’re about to declare war on Northumberland.”
“Your Majesty, that is indeed good news.” As I righted myself, I took note that despite her vigor, which must in no small measure be instilled by the spontaneous demonstration of loyalty she’d received, Mary looked strained about the eyes and mouth, and too gaunt. She had the look of someone who has not eaten well or rested in weeks.
“Good? It is more than good!” Her laughter was curt, derisive. “Our proud duke is not so proud now. Tell him, Waldegrave.”
She swerved to her secretary, her ringed hands clasped, beaming like a school teacher as the man recited: “Six cities garrisoned by the duke have vowed allegiance to Her Majesty, offering artillery, food, and men. Her Majesty has also sent a proclamation to the council, demanding—”
Mary couldn’t stop herself from interrupting. “… Demanding to know why they have yet to acknowledge me as their lawful sovereign in London. I also demanded an explanation as to why they dared to bestow my crown on my cousin. Do you know what they replied?” She grabbed a paper from the table. “They say my brother authorized a change to the succession before his death, denying my claim to the throne because of serious doubts concerning my legitimacy.”
She flung the paper aside. “Serious doubts!” This time, her laughter was tinged with a darkness that stirred the hair on my nape. “They’ll soon see how well I take to such. Heretics and traitors are what they are, to a man, and thus shall I deal with them when the time comes.”
Silence followed her outburst. Her eyes shifted from face to face before fixating on mine. “Well? You are the council’s courier, yes? Have you no opinion to impart?”
It was a similar inquiry to the one I’d faced in Huddleston’s manor, only this time I felt sure Barnaby would not be dragged in. As though in confirmation, Rochester took a prudent step back. A pit opened in my belly. It seemed impossible that after everything that had occurred, I might still have to prove my loyalty. But then, how could she know where my ultimate allegiance might lie? How could she begin to trust a stranger, after what she had been through?
“Your Majesty,” I said, “may I have your leave to examine this letter?”
At her