Just a Girl by Jane Caro Read Free Book Online

decision and see it put into effect, I will not deny it.’
    â€˜But it is not the natural business of women, surely, good madam.’
    â€˜Indeed not, but for some of us circumstances place us in such a position and it is as well that should we be asked to take on the role of men; we are equipped by character and education to fulfil our unnatural task with competence.’
    â€˜Such a circumstance is unlikely indeed for me,’ I said, and I could not hide my misery that what she called ‘the small business of life’ might be all that filled my future.
    â€˜So it seems now, dear Elizabeth – Madam Ysabeau.’ How I thrilled to hear her use my father’s rare endearment. ‘But think of my expectations at your age. I was a mere gentlewoman, with no reasonable hopes for the future but marriage to someone approved of by my guardians, followed by a lifetime of child-rearing and household managing. Yet, here I sit, not just Queen of England, but Queen Regent, trusted by the greatest king of our age with the management of our kingdom.’ At this, she smiled and winked at me, her delight in her current situation writ large upon her face.
    â€˜God works in mysterious ways, my Elizabeth. As yet,you are third in line for the throne. The king himself has placed you there, and it does you much credit that you so assiduously prepare for the great destiny that may yet await you.’
    â€˜But my brother will rule after my father.’
    â€˜Aye, and God preserve both of them for many, many years yet to come. But when you marry, you will not marry some minor nobleman as I did – at an age not much greater than yours is now – but some great prince of Christendom, and it will likely be through him or through the sons you bear, that you may one day find yourself placed in a position of great responsibility. And I know that should that day arrive, you will acquit yourself with great honour and ability.’
    â€˜As you are acquitting yourself, Your Majesty, my father will be well pleased with you when he returns home.’
    Alas, my prediction of my father’s pleasure was not to be fulfilled. He returned in September uneasy about the lack of a definitive victory following his expensive military adventure. His belief in himself as a great warrior king had taken a blow, so he did not respond with much pleasure to a court that was full of praise for the wisdom and calm good sense of the rule of his wife. Her success compounded his sense of failure. He became sullen and snappish with his queen, chafing under her lectures about theology and the importanceof a personal God and the right of all to read the Bible for themselves. Where previously he had been proud of his clever, bookish wife – who did not just read learned tomes, but authored some herself – suddenly he grew peevish and resentful, almost jealous. Having watched so many queens fall precipitously from grace and lose their influence, the queen’s enemies knew their business well. They began to gather rumours, filling my father’s ears with poison about heresy and witchcraft. With this most virtuous queen, there could be no credible claims of adultery, but her brains could be used against her and they were.
    The plotters, whose ranks included the Bishop of Winchester and the Lord Chancellor, searched my stepmother’s library and found some heretical texts. They closely questioned her great friend, the Duchess of Suffolk, and tried to draw a direct line between the outspoken challenge to the church’s authority (and, therefore, my father’s) from the prophetess they called the Fair Gospeler, Anne Askew, and the queen. I later heard they tortured the Fair Gospeler before they burnt her at the stake, but stalwart to the last, she said nothing that could incriminate my stepmother. Used as I was to sitting quietly in corners, hovering on the edge of things, but careful never to draw unwarranted attention