Free The Lady Elizabeth by Alison Weir Page A

made to kneel.”
    “That’s horrible,” said the child.
    “Ah, but I expect they didn’t feel a thing. It would have been very quick,” Kat reassured her.
    Elizabeth turned a tragic face upward to look at her governess. Kat stroked her hair and gazed into the girl’s dark eyes.
    “Is that—is that what they did to my mother?” Elizabeth asked.
    “It was, child,” Kat said, still stroking her hair. “Poor soul, she died very bravely. And she could have suffered no pain, for it was all over in a trice.”
    Elizabeth was silent again.
    “She did bad things,” she muttered in a low voice.
    “No, she did not!” Kat said firmly. “It was said that she had been unfaithful to the King, and that she had plotted to kill him. But I am sure those accusations were made up by her enemies in order to get rid of her, and that they made such a clever case against her that your father the King believed it.”
    “Who were they ?” Elizabeth asked.
    She’s wise as an owl, thought Kat. “Some that were about the King at the time.” Kat was not going to mention the name of Master Secretary Cromwell, for Cromwell was still the King’s chief adviser and already, she feared, she had said too much.
    “And were they telling the truth?” Elizabeth had already had drummed into her, mainly by Lady Bryan and the Lady Mary, the importance of telling the truth.
    Kat knew she had to be very careful: What she said next would be crucial to Elizabeth’s future well-being and peace of mind, but it must be said in such a way as to invite no criticism were the child ever to repeat it.
    “A grand jury thought they were,” she said, “and the peers of the realm found Queen Anne guilty. But there were many who said that it was all just an excuse to get rid of her.” That much was true, and no one could dispute it.
    Elizabeth, however, was unsatisfied.
    “So you don’t think my mother did those things?” she persisted.
    “So help me God, I do not,” Kat whispered. “But I would get into terrible trouble for saying that, so you must never repeat my words. My lady, your mother was innocent, of that I am convinced. Never forget it.”
    “I will never forget it,” Elizabeth declared solemnly. “But it was wrong to put her to death when she was innocent.”
    “Sometimes, child, innocent people have to die. And kings, who have the power of life and death, have to make harsh choices. I am sure that His Grace your father felt he was doing the right thing at the time. You must not blame him.”
    “I wish I could tell him he was wrong,” said Elizabeth with passion, but then, seeing the look of fear on Kat’s face, she hastened to reassure her. “I promise I will not, truly I do.”
    “Bless you, child,” Kat breathed. “Come now, let’s go and play ball. I’m sure we’ve allowed long enough for your prayers!”
     

     
    “Your Majesty,” declared Chapuys, the Imperial ambassador, suave and black-browed with a pointed beard, “the Lady Elizabeth, she is so very pretty. A credit to Your Majesty.”
    “Hmm,” grunted the King, distracted by the pain in his leg; the abscess was getting worse, and he knew he would soon need to have it lanced. It was so frustrating for a man such as he, who had shone in the lists and excelled at every sport, to be confined indoors through increasing infirmity, and it made his temper vicious. He was rapidly running to fat also, which was slowing him down; ever since that witch had cuckolded him, and impugned his manhood, he had overindulged at table—and would have done the same in the bedchamber, had he been capable of it. Then too, he was still smarting at being rejected as a suitor by the young Duchess of Milan, whose seductive portrait had spurred him to cast off his mourning garments and ask for her hand.
    “Tell His Majesty,” the impudent young minx had said, “that if I had two heads, one would be at his disposal.” How dare she! Was he not the greatest match to be had in all