When the Heavens Fall (20 page)

When Philip entered the room, his eyes went at once to the woman who was standing in the center. She was not what he had expected. There had been some hints that Mary was attractive, but she was not. She was wearing a black velvet gown, a petticoat of frosted silver, and a headdress of black velvet lined with gold. She was short, and her youthful shapeliness had become a thick-set middle-aged appearance. Her complexion was sallow, and he could see that she was nervously twisting her lips

Quickly he went forward, took her hand, and kissed it. “Your Majesty, at last we meet. I cannot tell you of the happiness in my heart.” Philip could not speak English, so he spoke in French,
which he knew Mary understood. He saw her eyes light up and knew that this woman was hungry for love. She was eleven years older than he, but he had not come to find a woman who would please him in the bedroom. He could see that pleasing her would be easy

Philip kissed Mary on the mouth. She was taken aback. Philip laughed. “I understand it is the custom in your country for men to kiss women. It is a most happy custom.”

“I must learn some Spanish so that we need not always confer in French,” she said. “It is such a beautiful language. Come. You must sit down and have refreshments. Bring your companions with you. I want to hear about your trip.”

The rest of the evening passed slowly for Prince Philip. He was a man capable of playing a role, and he played his role well. He saw that Mary had a desire for love, and he could provide that—or at least the semblance of it

After the meal and some entertainment, when they were then left alone for the first time, Philip said, “I am delighted with you, Your Majesty. I hope you find me acceptable.”

“Oh, yes, Philip. Of course I do.” She looked almost attractive as her eyes lit up again. “Our dream will come true.”

“Our dream, Your Majesty?”

“That England will be returned to the true faith, the Catholic faith. Between us we will do that.”

“That is my desire and also the desire of my father. It will not be easy,” he warned

“It must be done.”

“It may even take some force.”

“I once wished for a peaceful transition, but I believe now that even if we must resort to force, God will be with us.”

Philip saw that Mary was thinking more of weddings and unions than the future of her country's faithful. He smiled and said, “We will talk of this a great deal, but later. I am so happy to be here. With you.”

“I'm glad you've come, Philip. Our marriage will be a happy one.”

“I know that is true. Now, I bid you good night.”

Brandon and Lupa were at an inn for the evening meal when a man approached their table and said, “I congratulate you on your companion, sir.”

Brandon casually observed that the speaker was a tall, thin man with a narrow face and a pair of eyes somewhat too close together. He was dressed in a lordly fashion with jewels sparkling at his fingers and around his neck. His clothes were of the finest, and Brandon, who had learned to read men rather well, saw that he was a fop. “You are impertinent.”

“My name is Sir Leo Summerville.” Summerville waited for recognition to come to Brandon, but it did not. His face reddened and he said, “As I say, you have an attractive companion.”

“And I say you may leave, sir.” Brandon did not even sit up straight. He was indolently leaning back, holding a goblet of wine in one hand. He glanced over at Lupa and saw that her face was tense. “I'm sorry, my dear, that you have to put up with such a lout. Perhaps I will speak to the owner about keeping the riffraff out of this place”

Summerville sneered at him. “I know you. Don't think you're getting away with anything.”

“You don't know me.”

“Yes. I remember you as a boy. You are a son of Sir Stuart Winslow and nephew of the preacher Quentin Winslow.”

“I prefer to not discuss my family.”

Summerville was infuriated. He was clearly used to getting his own way and having people bow before him. He sneered and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Your uncle is one of these new religion people.”

“Whatever he is, sir, is no concern of yours. I've asked you twice to leave. I will not ask a third time.”

Summerville laughed. “We have a Catholic queen now, and we'll have a Catholic king soon. Your uncle has been brave enough until now. That'll change his tune.”

“No, he won't.”

“Then he'll lose his head.”

Brandon swiftly came out of his chair. He grabbed Summerville by the nose, twisted it hard, and then pushed. Summerville went cartwheeling backward, fell into a table, and a pitcher of wine spilled across his chest

He scrambled to his feet and drew his sword. “I'll kill you for that!”

By the time Summerville had finished that statement and was plunging toward him, Brandon had drawn his own sword. With one quick blow he struck at the hilt of Summerville's weapon and drove it out of his grasp. With the next motion Brandon struck him on the forehead with the butt of his sword and drove him to the ground. Instantly the point of Brandon's sword was at the throat of his fallen foe

“Confess that you are a liar.”

“You'll hang for this!”

Lupa took his arm quickly. She was pale, which was unusual, for she was a courageous woman. “Let him go, Brandon.”

“Why should I? He threatened my family and insulted you and me.”

But Lupa pulled at his arm. “Come. Let's leave here.”

Brandon kept the tip of his weapon on Summerville's throat. “If I were you,” he said pleasantly, “I would not pursue further discourse. Otherwise you will be a dead fop.” He walked away with Lupa, and Summerville scrambled to his feet and shouted curses and threats at their backs

Lupa said nervously, “He's a powerful man. I've heard of him.”

“He'll be a dead powerful man if he tries to touch my uncle.”

“That won't happen.”

“It could. There're rumors that Philip and Mary are going to make it a capital offense to preach anything except Catholic doctrine.”

“They should know the English will never put up with that.”

“I think, from what my father's told me of Mary, that she doesn't take kindly to any advice. She was raised by a woman who was a devout Catholic and poured this doctrine into her.”

“But she wouldn't dare touch your uncle. He's the brother of a nobleman.”

“She'd better not,” he said. “I wouldn't put up with it.”

Lupa pulled him to a stop and faced him, her face lined with anger. “You don't know yet what it means, do you? To be forced to flee? How to discern real danger? This is real danger, Brandon. Life-threatening.” She put her hands on his arms and looked up into his eyes. “You must not get involved in this.”

“If the queen touches my uncle, I'll get involved. You can believe that, Lupa!”

The marriage of Mary, Queen of England, to Philip of Spain took place on July 25, 1554

A sullenness fell over the people afterward. Once upon a time, Mary had been cheered by the populace when she was carried through the streets. “God bless Queen Mary,” the cries rang out. But now that she was Philip's wife, that was seldom heard. The months rolled by, and not until the second month of 1555 did the true intention of Mary and Philip show itself. They had the heresy laws revived, and almost at once people were arrested for heresy. A shock ran through the entire country, and none felt the grim shadow that had fallen over England more than Brandon Winslow

“I must go to my uncle, Lupa.”

“Why? Is he sick?”

“No, but he's in danger. I had a letter from my father. The queen has arrested three members of his parish on the charge of heresy. They'll be executed.”

“Well, how does that involve your uncle?”

“It means that he could be accused as well. I must go to him.”

“Are you so close to him?”

“He gave me comfort when I needed it,” Brandon said. “I was only a boy, but I had got into trouble. I couldn't face my parents, I was so ashamed. But my uncle came to me and made me feel that I wasn't a complete loss. I've never forgotten that, Lupa. I must go to him.”

“I'll go with you.”

“No. You wait here with Rez. You have plenty of money.”

“But how long will you be gone?” Lupa demanded

“I don't know, but I must go to be sure that my uncle is safe.”

“But if he's arrested by the queen—”

“I'll get him away somehow. There are other places to live besides England.”

Lupa pleaded, but Brandon was adamant. He left early the next morning before she was awake

Brandon made a fast trip back to Quentin's church in Winchester and fortunately found his uncle at once

Quentin was surprised. “Why, it's you, Brandon! At long last!”

Brandon saw lines in Quentin's face, lines of tension, and said, “I wanted to see what was going on for myself. These people from your parish that were arrested—are they traitors?”

“Of course not! They're simple people. None of them is a danger to anyone. They are fervent Christians. They speak out for the Lord Jesus, and evidently that has become unpopular with the Crown.”

“What can be done?”

“To get them free? Nothing. Everything has been tried. Your father even went and received an audience with the queen. He begged her to talk to these people at least. He told her that she would see that they were no danger. But she's so enamored of Philip that she wouldn't listen.”

“Do you think Philip has brought this on?”

“Not really. Mary's always been a strong Catholic. The difference is that once she didn't have any power but now she does.”

“What are you going to do, Uncle?”

“Right now I'm going to visit the poor souls that are in the Tower. Try to give them some comfort.”

“You can't go alone.”

Quentin smiled. “Well, then, you come with me. Come along. I'll send word to your parents that we will be along to Stoneybrook as soon as our task in London is completed.”