Free The Queen of Last Hopes by Susan Higginbotham Page B

All of the business with France—the other lords were privy to your dealings, were they not? Parliament even praised the seizure of Fougères, did it not? And everyone knew of Maine well before it was ceded. No one protested.”
    “True, and I have reminded them of this in the reply I am writing. But men have short memories when it is convenient for them to do so. I suspect when I give my answer, there will not be a man in Parliament who remembers having been anything but a fervent and outspoken opponent of peace with France. The lords like their heads as much as the next man does, and I’ve no doubt they will be more than happy to save theirs by sacrificing mine.”
    My eyes filled with tears. “Henry would surely not let that happen.”
    “No. He has told me that if pressed, he will send me into exile. Exile, when I have served my country since I was seventeen and when my father and my brothers all died for the English cause! But it is better than the alternative, I suppose.” Suffolk crossed to his window and looked out. “Your grace, I am grateful that you are here, for there are two things I want you to promise me in case I am condemned to exile or worse.”
    “Anything.”
    “I say this first because I trust you, as you have trusted me. I have known our king since he was a boy, and I dearly love him, but he is not the man his father was. There has always been something in me that wanted to protect him, and perhaps that is part of the reason that I am where I am today. I should have let him make his own mistakes in his own name, to have encouraged him to lead. Perhaps with me gone, he will.”
    “Suffolk, I don’t want you gone! I cannot bear it.”
    “That is where your grace is wrong. You can bear it, and you will. If I were to choose between you and Henry, I would say that you are the stronger. That is why I want you to promise me that you will stand by him always.”
    “My lord, that is almost an insult. I have never been anything but a loyal wife to him.”
    “I know, your grace. But there may come a time when you wish he were a different man, a time when you might be tempted to side with a stronger man simply because his strength attracts you. For your sake and for his, do not give way.”
    “Very well, my lord,” I said irritably. “But if I were not so concerned about you, I would not allow you to be presumptuous.”
    Suffolk smiled. “I will be more presumptuous yet and tell you that I have come to think of you not as my queen, but as a daughter. It has given me untold pleasure to watch the girl I first saw at age fourteen grow into beauty and grace.”
    I put my arms around Suffolk, who gently disengaged himself. “That brings me to the other promise I wish you to make, and that is that you will be careful of yourself. You are vulnerable as a Frenchwoman—and, if I may speak plainly, as a woman who has not got with child. You are a natural scapegoat. When I have served my purpose, they will come looking for more, because they will soon find that my being gone has not produced the miracle they expected.”
    “I will. Oh, I do hope that they will listen to your answer and heed it.”
    “I do too, for it is not death I fear. It is the disgrace—that I shall die with all of these falsehoods ringing in my ears.” He turned to me, his face working. “They are not part of the charges against me, but have you heard what else they are saying? That I abandoned my post and caused my brothers’ deaths at Jargeau? That my Jane was conceived when I defiled a nun the night before my capture? Good Lord, I have done wrong in my life, but never have I forced myself upon a woman. Jane’s mother was put into a convent by her parents because they could not afford a dowry. She hated it there. We caught each other’s eye when my forces were occupying Jargeau. I should have left her alone, God knows, but I was lonely and she was unhappy, and we cheered each other for a short time. When she got with child I