The Manner of Amy's Death by Carol Mackrodt Read Free Book Online Page A

the southern bank; we swing away from it as the oarsmen pull towards the northern bank where there is a landing stage for Syon House.  They hold the wherry steady as we disembark.
          Like Somerset House, Syon is imposing and new; although the ruins of the abbey can be clearly seen alongside it.
          “It makes me shudder,” says Amy breaking the silence.
          We walk from the landing stage up the path to the imposing entrance where Jane Grey (now Jane Dudley) and Mary Sidney, Amy’s sister in law, are waiting to greet us on the steps.
          “You knew we were coming?” says Amy.
          “No, we saw you walking up the path,” says Mary.  “Jane has been so anxious; we were in the Long Gallery watching from all the windows for any sign of someone approaching.”
          Amy then remembers the servant s and dismisses them.  We wait until they’ve gone round to the kitchen entrance before continuing.
          “When we arrived here there was no one to greet us,” says Jane.  “We are the only occupants of the house apart from the servants.  I thought we had been lured into a trap, empty house and everything.  I feared that Mary Tudor had sent us here.  I …. I thought she planned to murder me.”
          So does Jane have any idea of the real reason she’s here, I’m wondering.  Surely she must suspect something, and yet ….
          “Do you have any news of the King,” asks Amy.
          “Edward died last night.  He complained about feeling faint and just died in Henry’s arms as they said a prayer together,” says Mary.
         “God rest his soul,” Amy and I murmur in unison.
          “Amen,” says Jane.
          So Jane does know of the King’s death.
          “And now?” says Amy.
          “We wait for the Duke,” says Mary simply.
           We go into the palace and enter a chamber where the servants have laid out platters of cold meats and bread.  Amy’s face brightens considerably.
          “I think we should all go to the chapel before supper,” says Jane, “And offe r some prayers for God’s guidance in this.  We need not pray for Edward.  He died in faith and will receive his reward in heaven.”  Amy’s face is a picture but she can hardly refuse.  Jane is soon to be her Queen!
          We walk along to the little chapel.  The walls are bare and free of pictures and the altar is a simple wooden table by the wall.  There are no candles or silverware in the new evangelical style of worship.  Jane has the new prayer book, written in English on Edward’s instructions.  She leads the prayers and we pray on our knees for a long time, Amy shuffling uncomfortably.  I wonder if her thoughts are straying back to the supper table!
          Finally Jane says Archbishop Cranmer’s beautiful evening prayer, “Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee, O Lord, and, by Thy great mercy, defend us from all perils and danger of this night.  For the love of thy only Son, our Saviour, Jesus Christ our Lord.”  For a while we remain frozen in time, motionless and silent as we reflect on the meaning.  It’s a prayer that we all appreciate for we are in great peril at this uncertain time.
          When we get back to th e chamber where our supper was laid out, it’s disappeared!  Amy is very annoyed but Jane remarks that she wasn’t hungry anyway so we have to go along with that.  And it’s no use complaining to the servants.  They will have assumed, as is the custom, that we have finished with the dishes and that what remains is theirs.  Our supper will have been consumed some time ago but not by us!
          No one feels like playing cards and we have no needle work to keep us employed.  We walk up and down the Long Gallery a few times talking quietly and then retire to bed.  Mary is sleeping in the chamber next to Jane and Amy and I are sharing a bed in the next chamber.  A woman