Characters:
-Mary I of England (1516-1556)
-Queen Elizabeth 'Lisbet' (1556-)
-Princess Elizabeth Tudor (1533-)
-Cardinal Reginald Pole (1500-)
-Lady Jane Grey (1536-)
-Edward Stanley, 3rd Earl of Derby (1509-)
-William Paulet, 1st Marquess of Winchester (1483-)
-Edward Courtenay, 1st Earl of Devon (1527-)
January, 1556
Cold wind slapped against the closed windows, covered with dark curtains, attempting to invade the royal palace. The clouds rumbled forebodingly.
It was the first day of the new year, but there were no celebrations.
Inside Richmond Palace, the thirty eight year old Queen Mary I of England laid on her bed, dosed with fever and pain.
She had spent months in confinement after her unpopular marriage with Philip II of Spain who remained in Spain, as his aging wife was in danger of childbirth fever after giving birth disappointingly to a tiny infant. A priest was hurriedly called for in case of both mother and child's deaths. English citizens crowded outside the iron gates, shifting and murmuring uneasily to one another. Did the Queen have a son? A daughter?
Mary was by no means liked, but a child...
Courtiers roamed through the halls like ghosts, whispering to each other.
Was it time to make overtures to the queen-in-waiting, the Lady Elizabeth Tudor, daughter of the late Henry VIII of England and his second wife, Anne Boleyn? Would their hated queen recover from the contagious murderer of childbed disease?
The twenty one year old, unmarried Lady Elizabeth, sat patiently beside her half-sister, aware of her precarious position. She took the pitiful baby from the sweaty, apprehensive midwife and smiled sympathetically at the poor child.
It was a girl.
Her own place is still insecure.
Without a son, Mary will never view her as a sister as she did before.
After a fitful sleep, Mary opened her eyes.
"Where is he?" she murmured, adjusting her deep blue eyes to the light brought in by the flickering candles lit around her confinement chambers. "Where is my son? How long have I been asleep for? Does Philip know he has a son yet?"
"You have a dear daughter," said Elizabeth, showing her the infant. "We thought to wait for you to wake before informing the King of Spain of the successful birth."
Mary closed her eyes, obviously disheartened.
"She is lovely," tried Elizabeth, glancing at her weak blue eyed half-niece with a few short strands of auburnish-blonde hair. "Come Mary. At least look at your darling daughter. You will have a son. You should not be upset that you have a daughter..."
"No point hiding the truth," said Mary bitterly, as the little princess began wailing pathetically like the bleating of a sick lamb. "I am old. I know what the people say about me, and I will never have another child. God sees it fit to punish me with a useless daughter due to me leniency with heretics. I should have eradicated all of them and He would reward me with a son."
"Perhaps if you are more merciful-"
"And allow heretics to prosper? England is tainted with enough of them."
"Sleep, Your Majesty. You must recover from the ordeal."
"For what? To watch more Protestants grow each day and for my child to die in an hour? If it was not for God's will for me to cleanse England of Protestant evil, I would be pleased to die. In fact, I am know certain I will die without completing my mission."
"Why is that, Your Majesty?"
"I can feel myself burn. I saw Queen Jane die giving birth to our departed brother. I watched my friends die in childbirth. I am next."
She was calmer by now, and looked at her daughter again, this time with fondness.
"She will grow," she decided, to Elizabeth's relief. "Henry V of England was said to have been born a weak child, and he became the warrior king in his adulthood. My daughter will grow and thrive under the best care, and will succeed in the mission I failed in. I suppose it is up to her to wipe out all the heretics from England. Elizabeth, fetch a piece of parchment and a quill. Quickly. I do not think I have the strength to write, and you must do so in my stead, but I must say what the councillors have warned me against throughout my short reign, and I trust you out of all the courtiers to write it. I believe you will write exactly what I say. Yes?"
Elizabeth nodded, a quill steadily in hand.
"I, Queen Mary of England and Ireland, the First of my name," dictated Mary, her vision slightly spotted with black. "And Queen consort of Spain, Naples and Jerusalem as the wife of my good husband, King Philip II of Spain, bestow upon the Lady Elizabeth Tudor, the title 'Princess', due to her position as the daughter of the late Henry VIII and the title and estates of the marquessate of Pembroke, as is her right due to it being previously owned by her mother, the late Queen Anne Boleyn. Upon my death, the Princess Elizabeth will be regent and rule on behalf of my daughter with a council of my chosen ministers until she attains her majority. Only if my daughter relinquishes her claim or dies without surviving issue, will the Princess Elizabeth succeed to the English crown. If the Princess Elizabeth wishes to marry, she must seek permission with Parliament, regardless of her position as Regent. If Philip II attempts to take my daughter away from England, the Princess Elizabeth is allowed to take up arms against him on the grounds of the safety of the realm."
Elizabeth wrote quietly, not believing what she had just heard.
Her beloved brother, Edward VI, had not given either her or Mary the title of 'Princess', and now she was given that title back along with the power and responsibilities of being regent to Mary's infant daughter! What a privilege!
"Call in the priest," said Mary, suddenly feeling fatigued. "I...I feel..."
Elizabeth nodded at the midwife, who immediately summoned the waiting priest.
"Reginald?" said Mary softly, coughing a little. "Is that you, Reginald Pole?"
Cardinal Reginald Pole, Archbishop of Canterbury and one of the sons of Mary's old governess, Lady Margaret Pole, 8th Countess of Salisbury bowed respectively.
Needless to say, he was a devout Catholic.
He shot Elizabeth a scathing look.
"Name your child," urged Elizabeth, ignoring him. "Your Majesty, no I mean Mary. Name your child! Do not leave her nameless, I beg of you!"
"Perhaps 'Margaret'?" suggested Cardinal Pole. "My mother was a martyr for the Catholic cause and it may be wise to name your daughter after a true Catholic believer. Your aunt, the late Queen of Scots, had always supported your right and promised sanctuary for Catholics and yourself. It is thoughtful if you can name your daughter after such a supporter. If not, then perhaps, 'Mary'? After your good self and the Holy Virgin? You must decide quickly."
Elizabeth nodded, agreeing with him for the first-and probably last-time.
Mary took a deep breath.
"My first child died..." she murmured, tears running down her face. "I am not one for childbearing. My darling Catherine was taken by God. I should have known my leniency to Protestants caused the Almighty's displeasure. I only wanted the people happy...I guess I was wrong. More heretics must be burnt. England must be cleansed...cleansed of this..." She coughed out blood.
"A name," said Cardinal Pole and Elizabeth in unison. "Please."
"My Catherine..." said Mary, clearly not paying attention to them due to her depression over the loss of her first child in 1554. "She was not even a year old..."
"Your Majesty," interrupted Reginald, handing her the cross. "Please. A name for your child. You will be welcomed to Heaven with open arms by God himself for the work you have done on his behalf, but you must name your daughter."
Mary breathed deeply.
"Pull back the curtains," she ordered, her eyes remaining closed. "Open the windows. It is getting too stuffy in here. I must have fresh air!"
Reginald looked expectedly at Elizabeth, and with a silent sigh, Elizabeth rose and obeyed.
She returned to her seat and tentatively squeezed Mary's hand.
Instinctively, Mary pulled away, but calmed down quickly.
"I am dying," said Mary, sounding like a frightened woman, her cold demeanour melting like a patch of snow in the early spring. "Elizabeth...I did not expect to die like this. Having a child...I always wanted one, but did not know how painful it actually would be...even when I saw Jane give birth to Edward...promise me you will take care of this child, Elizabeth! As a sister, promise me! This child must live for the good of the realm! She carries the hope of all Catholics!"
"I promise," said Elizabeth, genuinely truthful.
"Release Lady Jane Grey from the Tower," said Mary, gasping a little for breath. "Her marriage to that traitor Dudley's son had been annulled two years ago. Find her a good husband. Tell her I am truly sorry for her time there. It is unfortunate I cannot tell her that myself."
Again, Elizabeth nodded.
"First of January..." said Mary, with a callous laugh, clenching her cross tightly. "How convenient, do you not think, Elizabeth? My reign is over, and my daughter's one will begin in minutes. A child queen. My poor infant, thrusted into a pit of wolves. Elizabeth, give her the childhood you never had. Protect her from those hungry men. You will be a good surrogate mother."
"A name!" Elizabeth almost cried with desperation. "Please Mary! Do not leave it for us to name her! I will protect your child as if she is mine! She will be raised a Tudor, and never a Habsburg! If Philip comes to take her, I will fight with my life for her!"
Mary smiled, almost serenely.
"Blessed by God," she said so softly that it was barely a whisper. "I need my child to be blessed. She must save England from ruin. Elizabeth, I trust you will protect her with her life. For that, I name my daughter after you. Princess Elizabeth Tudor. Ha. The last two Tudors left. Both Elizabeth Tudors. Is that not funny? I hope you will teach her to be a good Catholic. Reginald, ensure my Elizabeth is raised a devout Catholic. I want you and my sister to work together. Understand? Promise me."
Reginald and Elizabeth the Elder stared at each other unblinkingly. Reluctantly, they shook hands and swore a vow of peace and cooperation.
With an expression of calmness that she had not worn in quite a while, Mary I died with a peaceful smile, her hands clasped together with her eyes closed tranquilly.
June, 1556
Young Queen Elizabeth (affectionately nicknamed 'Lisbet') thrived under the care of an army of nursemaids and the love from her aunt Elizabeth.
During the last six months, Elizabeth noticed some changes.
Throughout Mary's rule, torrents of rain dominated England, crops refused to grow and the stench of burning flesh drifted through towns and remote villages. Every astrologer and seer predicted that with little Lisbet as queen, England will prosper.
In the long council meetings, one of the most heated and popular topics of debate was a possible husband for the infant queen.
Elizabeth wanted to wait, but the majority of councillors disagreed.
"It is of utmost importance to find a spouse for the Queen, Your Royal Highness," said Edward Stanley, 3rd Earl of Derby patiently. "I understand your concern for Her Majesty to grow and be educated, but the security of England lies entwined with her life. I suggest an English nobleman or a younger son of a ruling king or duke, that way the Queen can be raised alongside her future husband. I am sure you had potential spouses when you were in the cradle?"
"The Queen is not even a year old, my lord Derby!" protested Elizabeth in vain. "Indeed a husband must be found for her, but we must secure the right one! We should discuss it after we solve the issue of the King of Spain returning to England to claim his daughter and declare himself regent!"
"He is her father," William Paulet, 1st Marquess of Winchester said dryly.
"Do you want a Habsburg ruling England?!" demanded Elizabeth.
"Of course not!" said Edward Courtenay, 1st Earl of Devon adamantly. "That Spaniard will never rule England! Our Queen will not be his puppet!"
"Here is a list of potential spouses," said another, handing her a roll of parchment.
"They are most likely related to you," said Elizabeth sarcastically.
"We thought it would be wise..." said Derby uncertainly. "The Queen is a woman. Her mother married a foreigner, and look what happened! England failed to flourish, but there are already signs of success in the growth of crops and trade now that her daughter is queen. We thought it would be safer if the Queen marries a high-ranking nobleman."
"Oh? Who is the lucky noble?"
"We were um...thinking of Philip Howard, Earl of Surrey."
"You want my half-niece to marry one of my Howard cousins? I can assure you that if Mary was alive, she would have you executed for even thinking of that. I may be half-Howard by blood, but I am loyal to the Queen. I will not have another greedy Howard close to the throne. I even prefer William Courtenay as future husband to the Queen rather than a Howard."
"Of course, Your Highness. It was just a thought, nothing more. We will forget all about this. It was a mistake and we would never mention it again."
"Good. The meeting is over."
"What-"
"My lords, this meeting is over. We will talk again tomorrow at the same time as today, and hopefully we will agree on something."
Tired of foolish men, Elizabeth headed over to the royal nursery.
Her cousin, Lady Jane Grey, smiled as Elizabeth entered the chambers. They had not been on the best of terms during their childhood, but after both of them being treated with a journey to the Tower (Elizabeth was sent there for a few days under suspicion of participating in the Wyatt's Rebellion in 1554), they grew close to each other, and equally loved little Lisbet.
"How is our dear Queen progressing?" greeted Elizabeth.
"As beautiful as ever," answered Jane, leading her to the royal cradle. "She is more healthy than she was when she was born. She will need playmates when she grows older. A lonely childhood is what every child hates. Without siblings or cousins, Lisbet will need friends."
"I know," said Elizabeth, staring lovingly at the sleeping infant. "I have looked through lists of newborn children, or nobles around the same age as Lisbet. At the moment, my choices rest on Mistress Anne Knollys (born 1555), Mistress Susan Bertie (born 1554) and Mistress Mary Cavendish (born 1556). I understand that they are all Protestants, but there are no other children from well bred families to be her companions. Perhaps there may be this year or the next."
Jane nodded.
"What is it?" said Elizabeth, noticing her silence.
"My sister wishes to marry," Jane sighed, caressing Lisbet's tiny curled fingers as she slept like a sweet cherub. "Lady Catherine, that is. She pines to be married and to have children of her own. She was about to marry Sir Henry Herbert, the heir of William Herbert, 1st Earl of Pembroke, before Mary was crowned the Queen of England. Lord Pembroke did not pursue the union. Catherine fell in love with Sir Henry and he with her when they first met, and he had not married, even though his father is keen for him to marry Lady Catherine Talbot, the daughter of the 6th Earl of Shrewsbury."
"True love is rare," said Elizabeth, wishing she had experienced the elixir of love. "Especially for those of royal blood. Does your mother not approve?"
Last year, the formidable Frances Grey (nee' Brandon), Duchess of Suffolk, had made a shocking-but considerably safe-match with her Master of the Horse, Adrian Stokes. It was a surprising love match, and the Duchess had mellowed slightly, and was less demanding and terrifying to her daughters. With him, she had a daughter, Mistress Elizabeth Stokes .
"What about my little sister?" said Jane suddenly.
"Hmm?" said Elizabeth, with a blink. "Which sister?"
"Elizabeth Stokes. She is only older than Lisbet by a few months. I know she is more common than the other girls on the list, but she has more royal and noble blood through her mother than the other ladies. I do not wish to advance the position of my family, but I want my baby sister to have the childhood I never had. I want her to be loved, not shouted at for the tiniest matters."
"Of course. I will put her name down."
"What will happen to my mother?"
"What do you mean?"
"Will she be allowed to return to Court after another month of banishment? If she is, what will she be
addressed as? I do not think she will be happy to be only 'Lady Frances, Mistress Stokes.'"
"She will remain as the Dowager Duchess of Suffolk I suppose."
"What about my sister? You are regent, and matches must be approved by you. Will you allow my sister to marry Sir Henry as planned?"
"Of course, with your mother's permission, and Lord Pembroke's agreement. What about you? Will you marry and have children of your own? You are still in the Line of Succession and most likely viewed as a desirable bride by others."
"No. After my brief marriage with Lord Guildford Dudley..."
"I am sorry for that."
"There's nothing you could have done to prevent it."
"You were forced to marry that arrogant bastard."
She clenched her fists as she thought of her cousin married to the pig-faced Guildford Dudley. He did not deserve such a pious lady like Jane.
"I will have a portrait commissioned," declared Elizabeth. "Of you and your sisters. The palace has enough portraits of our ancestors and not enough for current family members."
"You do not have to," said Jane, who had brashly decided to be a nun. "I know you wish to make up for all the horrors I endured, but you do not need to. I will never marry. I will never allow myself to be dominated by a husband, or a man who will push me around for his own purposes, or marry me only because of my royal blood. I am thinking of entering a convent."
"Oh Jane! Do not do so on an impulse!"
"The longer I stay here, the longer I remain a possible bride. The only way to escape is to pledge myself to be the bride of Christ. Elizabeth, I do not want to be a wife and mother."
"I will try and help you with all my power."
"Thank you."
Lisbet opened her eyes and smiled at them.
Imperiously, she lifted her arms and Elizabeth carried her away from the security of the bundle of finest blankets sewed in England.
Nothing can be imperfect for the little queen.
"Good afternoon sweetheart," cooed Elizabeth, as Lisbet began making baby noises. "How is Your Majesty feeling, after a nice, long nap? No council meetings for you, eh? How do you feel having young Philip Howard, Earl of Surrey as your husband?"
Lisbet frowned, but smiled again as Elizabeth's plain pearl necklace caught her eye. Lisbet reached for it and yanked it a little, the troop of nursemaids covering their laughter with their hands. Jane almost snorted when Lisbet seemed to examine the necklace more closely.
"She never cries," she said proudly.
"Lisbet inherited Mary's seriousness," agreed Elizabeth. "It is a good trait for a queen. I suppose Philip II of Spain is a solemn man too. The people should see their Queen, even if she is six months old. Lisbet must get used to the constant eyes of the people."
Jane nodded.
"She should be raised simply," she added.
"Really?" said Elizabeth, a little taken back. "Lisbet is Queen of England!"
"Indeed, but if Lisbet is taught the ways of the common folk, she will learn to serve as well as to be served. She will understand matters such as the importance of money, supply of food, and most likely develop a close relationship with the people. Of course Lisbet must appease the aristocracy too, but I think if she knows the ways of the common people, it may benefit her rule later."
"That is an excellent idea, Jane! What do we do? Pack her off to the country and ask a trusted knight and his family to take care of her?"
"That is not such a bad thought."
"The councillors will object most vehemently. They will want their little queen to be reaped in gold, deepening our debts and weakening the exchequer."
"Perhaps a compromise can be made? Lisbet will be given an excellent education and remain in the royal household, but what if we take her for walks throughout the towns and villages in disguise? She will see firsthand what the common folk live like and it can change her perspectives from the comfort zone behind the palace walls. Mary most likely would have wanted her daughter to be a compassionate queen who rules justly."
"Yes. We will do that. Thank heavens the burnings have ceased!"
"Indeed. It would be horrible if they continued. It was wise that you ordered all the unlawfully committed prisoners to be freed and for the burnings to stop."
Elizabeth smiled a little, shuddering at the vision of Protestants eaten by the burning flames, with the smell of burnt human flesh spread throughout England. Their screams had haunted her for months, and she had many sleepless nights in fear of the royal guards marching into her chambers and arresting her for her religious beliefs.
Now, she could sleep peacefully.
Until Lisbet is of age, Elizabeth was determined to rule England well, with a tolerance for both Catholics and Protestants. Peace must be held at all costs.
"You are holding the key to salvation in your arms," said Jane quietly, referring to baby Lisbet. "She is born to a Catholic, but will be raised a Protestant. Lisbet will open the doors to a prosperous England with no more religious tensions. I know she will."
First Tudor fanfic! Reviews greatly appreciated!