(Hope everyone enjoys this story. Big thank you to MrsPhantomSylvia and everyone to has read Song of Songs and All For Christ-promise there will be an update in the New Year. Happy Christmas x)

Christmas Eve 1535, Whitehall

It almost midnight. Soon it will be the day, on which we celebrate the birth of our Savour and I should be thinking of retiring to bed but I know sleep will not take me, so I just sit by the fire and continue to stare at the yellow flames. What differences does it make whether I go to my bed or continue to remain seated and sip at this tankard of ale? My mind will be plagued by the same haunting thoughts, regardless of where I sit or lie?

Bathsheba. My beautiful Bathsheba. Two weeks have almost past, since I last saw her and felt her warm body lying beside mine as we slept. It is Christmas, the snow is heavy outside as the rest of the court is in the great hall celebrating, as I lock myself in my rooms-once again I am alone. Gregory is with his friends from Cambridge and Bathsheba is back home, with the rest of my household, probably laughing and having fun with the rest of my servants as they celebrate. Her mind probably does not think of me- why should she? She deserves better than a life, sneaking in the background, wondering when we will be together next.

People think I'm cold but I am not. I do not chose to be sat alone in my chambers staring at the flames. There are many things I would rather be doing than sitting alone – and none include being fickle with the rest of the court.

'Thomas,'

I turn round, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up on end-I thought I was alone. I sigh and try to forget it, as it is probably my imagination playing tricks on me but as I go back to my thoughts, I hear it again, only this time the sound is more clear and I can make it out who the voice belonging to-someone, who I thought I had lost to me forever.

'Thomas,'

'Lizzie?' I cry, as the figure of a woman appears, through the flames and stands before me.

'Lizzie,' I crock, not believing my eyes as I stare back at the woman, who was once my wife. I would think that it is the drink, except one mug of ale is not enough to send a man into the world of dreams. She looks so really, her long, straight pale brown hair, her even lighter brown eyes and her fair complexion-she looks just as alive, as what she did on the day we married but it cannot be-I still remember the day we buried her and our girls; she is wearing the very dress in which we buried her.

'Thomas,' she smiles sweetly, as she holds out her hand to me, 'do not be frightened. It is me, Elizabeth, your Lizzie,'

'No,' I cry, jumping up from my seat and rushing to the door, 'no you cannot be. My Lizzie is dead and gone. She lies in the ground with our two daughters,'

'I know husband but I am here to please you,' she continues, as she stands there staring at me and it is then I notice the hint of gold light, which surrounds her, 'I have come to make all right,'

Lizzie's talent was as someone who always want to make everything right for everyone, to please all those around her. She spent every year of our marriage, trying to make me reunited with my father, no matter how many times he reduced her to tears, she always saw the best in him.

'You always did want, what's best for me, didn't you, Lizzie,'

'And sitting alone in this cold, dark chamber, is not what I want for you, Thomas,' she smoothes, 'please take my hand, the way you use to, when I was of this world and I will show you, what I want for my husband,'

The room suddenly goes dark and for a moment the two of us are encased in a thick black fog, that lifts almost as soon as it falls and to my surprise, as the lights go up, I find that I am staring back at myself, sitting emotionless before the fire.

'Where..'

'Hampton Court,' replies Lizzie, walking over to the vision of me and kissing me gently on the top of the head, 'it's Christmas Eve, Thomas, 1538,'

'1538!' I stutter, not believing the words my wife has just spoken to me, 'but that is...'

'Two years away, my darling,' she smiles briefly, before retreating to the window, 'now husband, just be quiet and watch,'

I do as I am told and watch the future me, sit there before the flames, sipping ale out of a tankard. It's very much like the scene we just left, but soon, both myself and the future self, become startled by the sound of heavy footsteps, frantically running down the corridor.

'Dada!'

'Kate?' I hear, my future self say as he runs over to the door and throws it open. A little girl, looking the perfect picture of my Grace, stands there bundled up in furs and covered in snow. My mouth falls open as I watch myself, pick this little girl up in my arms and hold her tight, 'my little Kate,'

'Dada,' chirps the little girl-Kate-my daughter!, 'the man with the horses said we wouldn't get here and I cried cause I wanted my dada!'

'My poor Kate,' I laugh, hugging her even tighter, as I watch on with amazement, that grows as another figure appears in the room.

'Don't be so pretentious, Kate,' calls Bathsheba, as she walks into the chamber covered too in furs and snows, 'well husband, I hope you realise how much your wife and daughter love you!'

The scene changes to Bathsheba and I alone in my bed chamber, me sat on the edge of the bed with Bathsheba kneeling in front of me, unlacing my boots. My mouth is still open, I cannot believe that my Bathsheba is my wife and the my mother of my daughter. I always thought that deep down, she would one day see that she was too good for me and leave with a man who is worthy...but its seems I was mistaken.

'I've missed you,' I hear myself say, as I stoke Bathsheba's mass of curls. She looks so different as I watch her take off my future self's boots, more confident in herself, in her movements and looks, 'Kate tells me you carried her on piggy back through the snow,'

'It was only a bit of snow,' she laughs, throwing her head back as she gets to her feet-I suddenly feel a hint of guilt as I think how beautiful she looks, 'I don't know what that coachman was complaining about-I've walked through many a worse snow storm. Beside my child wanted to see her father,'

I watch as she climbs on to mine...his lap and put her arms round his neck, kissing him deeply. They do look happy...we look so happy.

'And I couldn't face another night without my husband,' she whispers, as she pulls away and starts to unbutton his doublet, 'and as I've missed you so much... I've hidden your Christmas present somewhere,'

I laugh as I watch me fumble with the ribbons of Bathsheba dress, then pulling it down around her shoulders, only to find that my present it not hidden there. Slowly, I pull her skirts back and find a piece of paper, tucked in the ribbon of her left stocking.

'Come Thomas,' Lizzie says, placing a hand on my shoulder, 'I can take no more,'

'Lizzie,'

I turn round and see that despite her pale figure, tears are rolling down her cheeks. She looks so sad, that my heart which was only moments a go full of happiness, now almost breaks. She was the first woman I ever loved and I thought she would be the last...until now.

'Lizzie,' I continued as the room starts to spin and we are once again back in present, the fire starting to burn low, 'sweetheart what is the matter,'

'I promised I would not do this,' she sobs, walking away and standing by the window, looking out over the city of London, 'but I cannot help myself...Thomas, my husband, you love another,'

'But Lizzie, I though you showed me these things to easy my mind,'

'Yes, but she is all wrong for you Thomas. She may give you a good life. She may love you with all her heart. She may give you a long life, with plenty of children, but she is not good enough for you, Thomas. She wanton, she'll argue with you and with others-people who she has no place to argue with. She's common! Thomas, she has a child-a child without being married to the man!'

'Lizzie,' I sigh, putting my arms around my wife-something I never thought I would do in this world again, 'didn't your father once say that about me...well except about the illegitimate child-at least I don't think I have one,'

'Thomas,' she laughs through her tears the way she always did when she was alive, 'I suppose you are right. I want you to be happy, I truly do. I guess I did not expect it to hurt as much as it does,'

If I am honest, if I was in Lizzie's situation, the thought of another man touching my wife would drive me so mad, God would send me from Heaven to Hell. But my Lizzie is better than that.

'Lizzie, do you know how much I love you? Do you know how much I miss you?,' I smile, holding her even tighter, 'and do you know why I love Bathsheba? It's because she is not you and you are not her. I could never replace you, half of my heart will always belong to you,'

She returns my smile then and kisses me lightly on the lips, but as she does, I feel her already starting to fade from me.

'Thank you, Thomas,' she whispers, 'I miss you and Gregory so much. The girls miss you both too,'

'And we miss them,' I reply, choking back tears.

'Do not cry Thomas. The girls are happy and they are happy that one day, they will have a lot more brothers and sisters to watch over. Now go, my love, there is someone you need to see,'

And with that, she is gone, leaving me alone in my chamber, but this time, I do not mourn. I grab my cap and hat and rush to door.

Hampton Court, Christmas morning 1538

'Morning,' I sleepily mumble, as I lean over and kiss my beautiful wife, 'Happy Christmas,'

'Happy Christmas,' she sighs, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling closer to her, kissing me again, only this time more deeply, 'do you want another present?'

'Bathsheba,' I laugh, suddenly feeling more awake, 'you'll send me to an early grave!'

'I haven't seen my husband in almost a month,' Bathsheba whispers, as she wraps her legs around my waist and I run my hands down her naked body, 'besides I don't recall hearing any complaints the first, second or the third time,'

God I miss her so much when I'm away and when we are together, it's as if nothing is wrong in the world. That it's just the two of us...just me and my beautiful Bathsheba...

'Dada! Mummy!' shouts Kate, breaking the moment as she starts pounding on chamber door, 'morning cuddle,'

Both Bathsheba and I laugh as we hear our little girl, bang on the door with all her young strength. Since she could walk, she always comes into our bed first thing in the morning and while it is sweet-it makes certain marital activities very difficult sometimes. I get out of bed and pull on my nightshirt, watching my wife slip her nightshift over her body, before I unlock the door.

'Kate has started taking a nap about two,' says Bathsheba, as she ties the neck ribbon of her shift as I watch her, 'maybe we can have a nap then too-or not,'

I laugh as I unlock the door and Kate strolls in, her black curls a shabby mess. My little Kate is only two, yet she walks as if she owns the world.

'About time, Dada!' she chirps, as she jumps on the bed and climbs under sheets, hugging her mother, 'I was cold!'

'Dada sorry, sweetheart,' I smile, closing the door and going back over to the bed, kissing my daughter on the head, 'Dada's sorry,'

'Presents,' she asks with a mischievous grin that growing on her face, 'when I get presents?'

'When its time to get up,' replies Bathsheba, kissing her on the head also, as she pulls the blanket around her, 'now close your eyes and go back to sleep,'

Kate nods her head and throws herself down on the pillow, closing her eyes. Soon she is asleep. I climb back into bed and join the both of them, putting an arm round two of them. Bathsheba too, soon falls asleep and I'm the only one still awake but I do not mind. There was a time when my life was cold and lonely but now I have a reason to want to come home in the evening. Soon my son will be moving home to London and now I have a wife and our beautiful daughter. God may have taken my Elizabeth and our Anne and Grace but now with their blessing, I have a life once more.