Lady Jane: A Time For Us

Glenmalure

August 1580

"I am going with Baron Grey to put down the rebellion in the mountains of Glenmalure," Henry told Grace. "We must protect Dublin from the Catholic insurgents. Baron Grey believes that the most expedient route would be through Kildare, although it does concern me that the slopes are so steep and that we English, unlike the Irish, are unaccustomed to waging war on mountains. It is also a heavily wooded area with plenty of hiding places."

"Perhaps you should reconsider your plans, then," Grace told him. "Your family needs you."

"And let the Catholic rebels succeed? Never!" Henry was adamant. "It is my duty, as it is the others', to do my part to keep peace in our Irish territories. The other men all have families too. Why should I receive special consideration?"

"Are you going to war, Papa?" asked seven-year-old Henry.

"Yes, son, for just a little while. It'll all be over with very quickly and I'll come straight back home to you," his father told him.

"Don't go, Papa!" Three-year-old Guilford ran to his father and hugged his legs tightly. Henry picked the child up and hugged him.

"Some bad men in Ireland are causing a lot of trouble, and I have to go and help make them behave. Just like when you and your brother are quarreling and I have to make you stop."

"Are you going to thrash them, Papa?" Guilford's eyes now danced with excitement.

"Absolutely." Henry grinned at his son.

"Hurray!" Guilford cheered.

"Do be careful, darling." Grace gave Henry a final hug and kiss, trying to ignore the peculiar sinking feeling she felt in her stomach.

"Of course I will, my love."

Rather than sitting home with her children to await the results of the battle, Grace decided to pay a visit to her parents. Jane greeted her at the door, with eight-year-old Bessie not far behind. The little girl was very bright, but she hadn't walked until she had been past her third birthday, and she had always had a very pronounced limp. Her speech was quite badly slurred as well, and only those who knew her well could understand her without difficulty. The physician had said that the part of Bessie's brain that controlled her coordination had been damaged by the fact that she had been born so much too soon, but that Bessie was actually quite fortunate in that he had seen many children in her situation who had no control over their limbs at all and were totally mute.

Despite her problems, Bessie was the sweetest and most loving child Jane had ever known, and her sunny nature never failed to win over everyone who came into contact with her. Those who loved her most thought of her as one of God's special little angels, and she certainly seemed to live up to it. Her father doted on her and called her his 'ray of sunshine.'

"Henry!" Bessie's face lit up with joy upon seeing Grace's older son. Although Henry was a year younger than Bessie, he was taller and larger than she was. He was her best friend and fiercest protector, never failing to come to her defense when other children teased her about her limp or her slurred speech.

Henry rushed to Bessie's side and hugged her. "My father went to fight some bad men in Ireland," he told her. "They're Catholics." He paused for dramatic effect, and Bessie was duly impressed.

"Why don't you show Grace what you can do now," Jane suggested to her youngest daughter. Bessie grinned widely at Grace and painstakingly performed a curtsy.

"Hurray!" Grace clapped enthusiastically. "That was perfect, Bessie!"

"She practiced all day long yesterday," Jane said.

"I can't wait to show Uncle Robert and Aunt Lettice!" Bessie said.

"I'm sure you'll get the chance to do that very soon," Grace told her.

Grace's father strolled into the room, scooped up his namesake grandson, and swung the boy up onto his shoulders. Young Guilford grabbed two big fistfuls of his grandfather's hair and squealed with delight. Guilford gently unhooked the little boy's fists from his hair.

"He looks more like you every day," Grace told her father. "I certainly chose the right name for him."

"That you did." Guilford grinned. "Henry looks remarkably like his father as well."

"Yes he does." That familiar sinking feeling in Grace's stomach returned again, and she tried desperately to squash it.

Hours passed. Grace returned to her home, and still her husband did not appear. She knew that battles sometimes lasted longer than one day and hoped that this one would not prove to be one of them.

Very late that same day, Grace's brother-in-law, William Carey, arrived with a wild, panicky look on his face. Grace took one look at him and felt her heart sink.

"The Irish ambushed us in the mountains." William was gasping for breath. He had obviously arrived in a great rush. "More than three hundred are dead...perhaps many more...I'm so sorry, Grace...Henry is among the missing..."

Grace felt totally numb, as if she weren't really standing there with William but was standing and watching herself from a distance. She tried to open her mouth but found that words escaped her. She knew for sure that she would awaken in a moment and find that it had been but a dream.

"Papa?" Young Guilford appeared, followed closely by his older brother, both boys bewildered to see their uncle rather than their father standing there.

"My dear child." William lifted his young nephew and hugged him tightly as young Henry looked at his mother with fear in his eyes.

"But where's my father?"