Jean Plaidy - The Lady in the Tower

ALSO BY JEAN PLAIDY

Forthcoming from Three Rivers Press:

The Rose Without a Thorn

Queen of This Realm

The Thistle and the Rose

Victoria Victorious

In the Shadow of the Crown

Mary, Queen of France

The Royal Road to Fotheringhay

A Health unto His Majesty

Here Lies Our Sovereign Lord

THE NORMAN TRILOGY

The Bastard King

The Lion of Justice

The Passionate Enemies

THE PLANTAGENET SAGA

Plantagenet Prelude

The Heart of the Lion

The Battle of the Queens

Edward Longshanks

The Vow on the Heron

The Star of Lancaster

Red Rose of Anjou

The Revolt of the Eaglets

The Prince of Darkness

The Queen from Provence

The Follies of the King

Passage to Pontefract

Epitaph for Three Women

The Sun in Splendor

THE TUDOR NOVELS

Uneasy Lies the Head

The Shadow of the Pomegranate

Murder Most Royal

The Sixth Wife

Katharine, the Virgin Widow

The King's Secret Matter

St. Thomas Eve

The Spanish Bridegroom

Gay Lord Robert

THE STUART SAGA

The Captive Queen of Scots

The Wandering Prince

The Haunted Sisters

The Murder in the Tower

The Three Crowns

The Queen's Favorites

THE GEORGIAN SAGA

The Princess of Celle

Caroline the Queen

The Third George

Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill

The Regent's Daughter

Victoria in the Wings

Queen in Waiting

The Prince and the Quakeress

Perdita's Prince

Indiscretions of the Queen

Goddess of the Green Room

THE QUEEN VICTORIA SERIES

The Captive of Kensington Palace

The Queen's Husband

The Queen and Lord M

The Widow of Windsor

THE FERDINAND AND ISABELLA TRILOGY

Castille for Isabella

Spain for the Sovereigns

Daughter of Spain

THE LUCREZIA BORGIA SERIES

Madonna of the Seven Hills

Light on Lucrezia

THE MEDICI TRILOGY

Madame Serpent

The Italian Woman

Queen Jezebel

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION SERIES

Louis the Well-BelovedThe Road to CompiengeFlaunting, Extravagant Queen

Evergreen Gallant

Beyond the Blue Mountains

The Scarlet Cloak

Myself, My Enemy

The Goldsmith's Wife

Defenders of the Faith

Daughter of Satan

HERE I LIE IN MY DARK PRISON. I hear voices in the nightthose who were here before me, those who had suffered as I am suffering now, numbed by fear, without hope, the prisoners of the King.

They came for me yesterday, and we glided along the river to the great gray Tower. Many times had I seen it before but never with such fearful clarity. Once I came here in great pomp and gloryand that only three years agoand never for one moment then would it have seemed possible that one day I should be brought herea prisoner.

It was May then as now and the people crowded the river banks to see me pass. I was proud, so confident, so sure of my power. At the prow of my state barge was the stem of gold with branches of red and white rosessymbolic of York and Lancaster, which the King displayed on every occasion to remind people that the Tudors had united the warring factions; and among those roses was my very own symbol, the White Falcon, with the motto Me and Mine.

How had I come to pass from such adulation to bitter rejection in three short years? Was it my fault? I must be in some measure to blame. When did I cease to be the adored one and become the outcast?

The people had not cheered me even in my day of triumph. They did not like me. All their affection was for Queen Katharine. They did not accept me. We will have none of her, they cried. Queen Katharine is our true Queen. They would have abused me if they had dared. The people were my enemies, but I had greater and more powerful enemies than they were. Now they would be openly gathering against me; even during the days of my triumph they had sought to destroy me; how much more assiduously would they work against me now! And they had succeeded, for I was the King's prisoner.

As I passed through the gate the clock was striking five, and each stroke was like a funeral knell.

Sir William Kingston, the Lieutenant of the Tower, was waiting for me. I murmured to myself: Oh, Lord help me, as I am guiltless of that wherefore I am accused.

I turned to William Kingston and said: Mr. Kingston, do I go into a dungeon?

And he replied: No, Madam, to your lodging where you lay at your coronation.

They took me there and I laughed. I could not stop laughing, for I, who had come in such pomp and glory just three years ago, now was here in the same apartmenta prisoner.

Had they brought me here purposely to remind me? Was it a touch of that exquisite torture which so many of my enemies knew so well how to administer?

My women tried to soothe me. They knew the nature of that wild laughter; and in time I was quiet.

I thought: I will write to him, I will move him with my words. I will remind him of how it once was between us.

I wrote and I destroyed what I wrote. Again and again I took up my pen and tried to appeal to him.

Your Grace's displeasure and my imprisonment are things so strange unto me that what to write or what to excuse, I am altogether ignorant

That was not true. I did know and I would not make it easy for him. I knew him wellhis reasoning, his sanctimonious excuses, his mean, hypocritical nature, his passionate desires all cloaked in piety. No, I would not make it easy for him.

My angry pen flew on. My lack of discretion had often turned people against me, but I was reckless. I was fighting for my life. I would let him know that I was aware of the real reason why he wanted to be rid of me.

that Your Grace may be at liberty, both before God and man, not only to execute worthy punishment on me as an unfaithful wife, but to follow your affections already settled on that party for whose sake I am now as I am

Angrily I wrotemore vehement perhaps because I was now in the position of the discarded wife.

He would be angry. He would try to pretend that it was not because he desired another woman that he wished to be rid of me. He was a past masternot of deceiving others, for those about him saw through his utterings and posturings as clearly as I didbut of deceiving himself.

He was superstitious, fearful of ill luck; he committed his sins with one eye on Heaven, hoping to pull the wool over the eyes of God and His angels as he thought he did over those of his ministers and courtiers.

But if you have already determined of me that not only my death but an infamous slander must bring you the joying of your desired happiness, then I desire of God that He will pardon your great sin herein and likewise my enemies, the instruments thereof and that He will not call you to a straight account of your unprincely and cruel usage of me

I was again on the verge of hysterical laughter. I must calm myself. Others had suffered like this before me. This place was full of the ghosts of martyrs. What was so important about one more?

I sealed the letter. I would send it to the King. I wrote on it From the Lady in the Tower.

It must give him twinges of conscience. His conscience was important to him. He referred to it constantly; and knowing him well, I believed that it did exist.