Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: COMPLETELY AU. Anne's first miscarriage has lead to a strain in her marriage. In an attempt to keep the Seymours from the throne, the Duke of Norfolk has placed his wanton niece, Katherine Howard, at court. Unfortunately for Anne, King Henry VIII has developed an obsession with her naïve cousin, and imagines her the perfect vision of a woman, a chaste, beautiful rose. A rose without a thorn. With this latest threat, can Anne remain The Most Happy?
A/N: Me and my friends were extremely stoned and watching the fourth season of the Tudors. While high we noticed the similarities between Anne and Katherine, or at least what we thought were similarities since Anne was witty and intelligent, and Katherine was a ditzy airhead. Anyways, I came up with this idea one night after our experience with weed and the Tudors, and tada! It's utter shit, but tell me what you think. I will change the rating later on if I feel it gets too graphic, but for now just READ AND REVIEW!
"Thomas Culpepper."
"Thomas Culpepper?"
Joan Bulmer gives a sort of half smile as she juts her chin to the man in the far corner. "The man who has been eying you all night, of course." she explains with a hint of mischief in her voice. Joan can be terribly naughty when she wishes, and is always looking for some reason to put a pretty blush on my cheeks. Of course, the handsome gentleman across the room would put a blush on any woman's cheeks. His dark hair, ice blue eyes and strong jaw are all captivating features that mesh perfectly together.
"Nonsense Joan," I retort, but my smile betrays my words. It has not escaped me that his attentions have been caught, but it is never wise to be too open. However, I'm far from the womanly graces of an experienced seductress, so I can not help the wide grin that has spread across my freckled face. "Do you really think, he's staring at me?" there is no need to ask. The answer is too obvious.
"Of course!" Joan giggles back. "Oh my God Kitty, he's making his way," her voice rises an octave as she clutches my hand in friendly affection. Indeed, Thomas and his gorgeous blue eyes are nearing. I roll back my shoulders and shoot him a sly look, one I have seen my cousin the Queen Anne Boleyn use on her husband several times. Even now my cousin is putting her infamous eyes to work, seducing the court with her brilliant smile and extravagant hand gestures. Seven days at court has taught me that Anne does everything in extreme. Joan says it is to distract from the fact that she has failed to give England an heir. I simply believe Anne is too lively a woman to settle for conventions.
Joan walks away just as Culpepper nears, shooting me a glance that is part envy and admiration. Joan herself has never experienced the joy of courtly flirtation, her husband William is strict in his ways. I smile at Culpepper, who takes my hand and drops to his knees. His lips lightly touch my skin, but my shoulders shake with excitement. I admit, I'm not much of a gossip therefore I never pay much attention to names and faces. However, I chastise myself for failing to notice the handsome creature before me.
"Hello," he says with a gentle smirk. "I couldn't help but notice that you are without a partner."
"My partner seems to have occupied himself with some other woman," I explain, motioning towards Sir Francis Bryan who guides Madge Shelton across the dance floor.
"Then what do you say we show him what he is missing?" he offers his arm and I am helpless to resist. I wrap my fingers around his hand and let him lead me through the steps. He is a good dancer, and every time his hips brush against mine, my body tingles with lust. It is his eyes that draw me in so quickly. The magnificent blue hue has me lost in a sea of desire. I have never wanted a man so much. Francis Dereham and Henry Manox mean nothing to me now that I have set eyes on the dashing Thomas Culpepper.
The tempo picks up and my breath catches. Can he feel my unspoken wishes? My question unanswered as the song reaches its climax and Culpepper drops my hand. We separate, but the space between us is too much for me. I step a bit closer to him, and we share another dance. This time, he whispers that I am the most beautiful woman in the room. I blush at his compliments as he continues to comment on my excellent dancing skills.
In truth, I am not a very wise girl. My caretakers neglected my education at Lambeth. However, dancing was frequent in the home of the Dowager Duchess, and so my skills flourished under her tutelage. As the song comes to an end, I allow us to part. I do not wish to occupy all his time. I can hear the disappointment in his sigh as I walk away, but the room has become too hot for me to bear. I can feel the lingering sweat of trapped desire, and I decide it is wise to escape the great hall for a moment.
I exit through the side into a hallway dimly lit by a flickering fire on the side of the stone wall. I lean against the cool rock, hoping to quell the lust buried deep inside my body. "Thomas Culpepper," I whisper, putting a finger to my plush bottom lip. I enjoy the sound of his name inside my mouth, rolling over my tongue.
"Who's there?" a voice calls from a few feet over. The shadow is long and thick, and without a moment's hesitation I flee further down the corridor. I do not know why I am running away, surely I have done nothing wrong, but for some reason I feel like a maid caught stealing her mistresses ribbons. I press myself against the wall, but the shadow draws closer. "I said show yourself!" the shadow calls. For a moment, I wonder if it is the devil come to collect my soul for my wanton behavior.
"I am sorry," I mumble as the shadow merges into a tall, broad shouldered man dressed extravagantly. "I was frightened by the tone of your voice," I defend myself, till my eyes glance upward. I realize that before me is the King of England himself, Henry VIII. Immediately my body responds and I dip in a low curtsy before rising once more. I can not meet his face for I am filled with shame at my idiocy. I dance with a man for ten minutes and I have already gone and made an ass out of myself in front of the King.
"It is I who should apologize," he whispers, shocking me to silence. He takes my hand quickly and kisses it. I can feel the hairs of his budding beard rub against the spot where Thomas' lips had been. I want to stop him from erasing the feeling, but I would seem even more idiotic. "I never meant to frighten you."
"No really it is my fault," I argue. "I will leave you alone now, Your Majesty." I dip lower than before and turn on my heel to escape his powerful presence. His hand catches my arm and prevents me from doing so.
"Where are you going in such a hurry, I haven't even learned your name yet," he explains. I meet his eyes and can distinguish in them the lust of a greedy man. He traces over every curve of my body, and I feel naked before him, as if every part of my womanly body is revealed to him.
"Katherine Howard Your Majesty. I am a newly appointed Lady-in-Waiting to the Queen," I explain. I can feel goose bumps rising underneath my gown. I am a coward exposed underneath his gaze. The lust is undeniable, and his thumb rubs against my arm. Suddenly I am frightened by his actions. He is after all the King of England, surely he can not be interested in a girl abandoned by her own father.
"Ah, Katherine Howard," he repeats my name, and his blue eyes light up with a burning intensity. "I wondered why I had not seen you before, surely I would not have missed such beautiful girl in my court."
"I am flattered Your Majesty," I whisper sincerely. The King of England has just complimented me, normally I would have fainted, but the image of Culpepper's sharp jaw draws me back to reality. While the King's attentions are nice, it is Culpepper who makes my heart dance. "I really should get back though, her majesty will be wondering where I have wondered off to," I drop once more, before looking to him for approval.
He simply nods, but as I turn I can feel his gaze tearing into me with ferocity.