The Heretic Wind: The Life of Mary Tudor, Queen of England by Judith Arnopp (best ereader for students TXT) 📕

her enemies were thwartedby the king, even though she was guilty of … heresy and deserved to be punished?She didn’t die?”

“Well, she is dead now, ofcourse, but no, she didn’t die then. Father died instead.”

January - May 1547

The world is very differentwithout Father. Although I was never in the habit of seeing him every day, thefact of his existence was what held us all together. I am shaken by his death –we all are. It is as if we are a pack of dogs whose tether has been severed; weare no longer sure where to run, or who to bite. The court is edgy, and thequeen is now so vulnerable to her enemies that her hands tremble. Everyonespeaks in whispers, there is nobody living who can clearly recall life inEngland before Father took the helm. He may have been erratic, he may have beenterrifying, but he was there, like an immoveable mountain beneath which we allsheltered. Now, with just my small brother to take his place, we are faltering,and the future is uncertain.

“It won’t beEdward leading us at all, will it?” the queen whispers. “It will be the council,led by Hertford, at least until the king reaches his majority.” Sheplucks at her skirt, her face drawn and pinched with concern.

My brother isjust nine years old. I remember my school lessons where I was taught of other boy-kings,other protectors. It never turned out well but Hertford’s wife is my friend …or she was. I can’t imagine her or Hertford resorting to infanticide.

But the oldways are swiftly overturned and there are new men at the helm. Norfolk, afterfalling victim to Father’s displeasure, languishes still in the Tower, andGardiner no longer holds a position of power. In fact, most men who support theold church have been ousted from prominence by those who support the new. The reformersare in control and I sense division such as the country has never yet seenunder Tudor rule.

For all hisbilge and bluster, my brother is a small worm, ready to be gobbled up by theflock of reformers who surround him. They will take his infantile mind andmould it to their will.

“We must praythey take as much care over the health of his body as that of his soul.”

 I am withKatherine and her sister, Anne, in her private chamber, her women are seated ashort distance away. Like us, despite their leaning, they are uncertain of whatwill happen next and full of horrified speculation. Katherine has never been afriend of Hertford.

“My LordHertford has bought himself the support he needs, offering titles and propertyin return for the backing of the council. John Dudley has been made the Earl ofWarwick, and Wriothesley is Earl of Southampton. In all but name, Hertford isnow king. He has made himself Duke of Somerset while only allowing his brotherThomas a barony.”

Her voicesoftens, and she caresses the name of Thomas, who was her sweetheartlong before she caught the eye of the late king.

“He has beengiven Sudeley Castle,” I remind her. “That is not something to be sniffed at.”

“No.” Shesmiles vaguely, and doesn’t meet my eye.

“Somersetshould be careful. He raises himself too high, too fast, as other LordProtectors did before him … they who climb too high, often fall…”

“Hush, Mary…” Thequeen, whom I must now learn to call ‘dowager’, leans forward, glancing toward herwomen. “You must promise me not to speak so. We lack the protection of the lateking now … we are more vulnerable than ever before. Remember that.”

I frown at herserious face.

“But … mybrother…”

“… is nineyears old. He is powerless. A figurehead and nothing more. It is Hertford –Somerset – and his ilk whom we must answer to now.”

Belatedly, Irecall that Lady Hertford is one of Katherine’s women, but I do not see hergathered with the others. No doubt she has abandoned her post and is enjoyingher husband’s new-found status, swanning about court and waving her title ofDuchess as if it is a swansdown fan. I have often wondered if her friendshipwith me has more to do with status than liking. I frown at my own thoughts.

Katherine sitsback and fumbles with her embroidery before tossing it aside again with a gustysigh.

“It is bestthat we trust no one other than our closest kin. Mary, despite our differencesin matters of religion, you and Elizabeth are my family. I would neverwish harm to come to either of you. Therefore, heed me, keep a close tongue, andyour own counsel and your opinions to yourself – especially when it comes toreligion. You can sometimes be quite outspoken.”

We clasphands. I am thirty-one years old and although I have never enjoyed the fullextent of a father’s affection, without him, I am like the most wretched orphan.Katherine is the closest thing I have to a mother.

“It has beenagreed that Elizabeth will join my household,” she continues. “What do youpropose to do, Mary? You are now in possession of a vast fortune, with manyhouses in which you could make a home.”

I frown, alittle piqued at not being invited to remain with her but … I would haverefused anyway. I want the freedom to follow my own heart when it comes toreligion and pray in the manner I see fit. I’d never be free if I shared ahouse with Katherine.

“I will retireto my estates, Hunsdon perhaps or Kenninghall,” I say. “I must confess, it isvery satisfying to have inherited so many of the great Howard properties. It islittle in the way of compensation but … well, perhaps I am petty.”

Katherine smiles.I smile in return. She knows well my abhorrence for the Howards, the kin ofAnne Boleyn. Then her smile fades and she bites her lip. “Mary,” she says, andpulls a face.

“What is it,Katherine? Is there something…”

“I do havesomething I must tell you. I am loath to take such a step behind your back but… I am more afraid of losing him again.”

I sit tall, myback straight.

“Him? You meanThomas Seymour?”

She nods, dabsat a tear and looks down at her kerchief.

“I have lovedThomas for … oh, for so long I cannot quite remember. While I was wed to