The Girl in the Glass Tower Read Free Page A

would not apply to a queen and so left it sitting limply in hers. She smiled openly and warmly. Grandmother never really smiled, though she often told me she loved me; she said a smile made a person seem meek. I wondered about that, for the scriptures said meekness was a virtue, that the meek would inherit the earth, but Grandmother was not to be questioned.
    She was strict and inflexible and capable of turning awhole room to her attention just by clearing her throat. By contrast, the Scottish Queen’s smile made me feel safe and, in some peculiar way, though that royal aunt of mine was a complete stranger and an enemy of sorts, profoundly loved.
    ‘I am to be moved to Tutbury and it occurred to me that we might never be under the same roof again.’ She sighed, sinking into her seat, like an ancient house settling. ‘Tutbury is hell itself.’ She crossed herself once more.
    Leaning in close enough for me to smell the aniseed on her breath, she continued, ‘You see, I have always thought of you as something like a daughter. My son’ – her voice cracked as she said it and I was aware of all the women craning in to listen – ‘I fear my son is lost to me.’
    ‘I am sorry for that.’ I meant it from the bottom of my heart, thinking of my own mother and how even death could not break our bond.
    ‘My little James, your cousin, the King of Scotland’ – her tone was momentarily hard and then softened – ‘what a bonny infant he was.’ She gripped my hand very hard. ‘His mind has been poisoned against me.’
    I didn’t know how to reply, just repeated, ‘I am very sorry for that.’
    ‘Now, I
know
you have been raised in the new faith, my dear, but you are yet young. What age are you? Nine, I think. Am I right?’
    I nodded.
    ‘Fresh as a new shoot.’ There was that tender smile once more. ‘I want you to remember this. Whatever you have been taught to believe, the Catholic faith is the true faith; it is the only path that leads to the Kingdom of Heaven.’ She placed her palms together as if in prayer. ‘Despite what has befallen me, I know it is God’s plan and I have faith in His wisdom. If He had meant for me to have the throne of England, then it would have been mine – I suspect He has other plans for me.’
    I had never heard anyone talk of God in such a way; it was as if the Queen knew Him intimately, as if He was her own father. God for me was something intangible and frightening.
    ‘It is my hope that one day, my dearest child, you will see what a comfort the true faith is. Ask your Aunt Mary, Mary Talbot, she will tell you.’
    ‘Aunt Mary?’ My head had begun to churn with all that new information.
    ‘If the English throne was not my destiny then it is surely yours and when you have achieved it, I will be up there watching over you and your Catholic England.’ She had a beatific look on her face as if she had been visited by a host of angels. ‘You are my hope, Arbella.’ With that she released my hand again and took something out from beneath her gown, a small wooden box, which she opened, removing a flat elliptical object from it. ‘I want you to have this, as a reminder of our meeting.’
    I took it. It was like a ring without its shank; one side was a smooth disc of red stone, on its other, set into a bed of gold, was an oval of translucent milky substance bearing the impression of a lamb. I didn’t know what to say; it seemed so very precious.
    ‘It is an Agnus Dei,’ she told me.
    ‘The Lamb of God.’
    ‘You know your Latin. Good girl.’ There was that smile again, deep and inviting. ‘It has been blessed by His Holiness the Pope,’ she whispered, ‘and will protect you. But do
not
let anyone see it. I’m afraid these days an Agnus Dei can visit trouble on its owner.’ She sighed and the smile disappeared. ‘But earthly trouble is sometimes the price we must pay for heavenly grace.’
    I wanted to ask what she meant, how could it at once protect and visit trouble;