The Fallen Queen
“She sat, tears streaming down her battered face, cradling her stomach, crooning to her unborn child, and praying that everything would be all right, that no cramps would seize her or blood rush from her womb vacating it of life. She felt her child move and thanked God. When he came to help and gently raise her, she smiled up at Sir John Bridges, the kindly old lieutenant of the Tower, who still harboured in his heart fond memories of Jane.
She was housed in comfort, albeit of a shabby sort, wit...h cast-off furnishings left over from our sister’s nine-day reign. There were three old stools covered in faded green damask, some musty, moth-eaten tapestries, and a pair of mismatched chairs, one upholstered in plum purple velvet that our sister used to sit in, the other in tarnished gold brocade that had been Guildford’s favourite fireside chair. “It makes me feel like they are here with me,” Kate would write to me, from the desk that used to be Jane’s.
She was subjected to intense interrogation; day after relentless day they tried to break her, but they could not shake her.MoreLess
She was housed in comfort, albeit of a shabby sort, wit...h cast-off furnishings left over from our sister’s nine-day reign. There were three old stools covered in faded green damask, some musty, moth-eaten tapestries, and a pair of mismatched chairs, one upholstered in plum purple velvet that our sister used to sit in, the other in tarnished gold brocade that had been Guildford’s favourite fireside chair. “It makes me feel like they are here with me,” Kate would write to me, from the desk that used to be Jane’s.
She was subjected to intense interrogation; day after relentless day they tried to break her, but they could not shake her.MoreLess
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