Okay people, this is my first fanfic ever. I am a big Charles Brandon fan, and in this fic I made him the "villain" of the story. I chose my female lead to be the sister of Anne Buckingham from the "The Tudors", though it is not certain she has one. But I will do it this way. The Duke of Buckingham is dead, but his wife is alive and both his daughters are alive. I should also mention that I am from Norway, so if my language has any mistakes, please forgive.

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Her movements are rapid, her breath uneven. Her small fingers are fumbling with her cloak, she is shaking. The bags and chests are packed, the carriage is ready and everything is set for her escape. But does she have the courage to do so? What if he finds her? Or, more, when he finds her, will he be angry? Of course he will be. He will be outrageous, like a wild beast. Another shudder creeps up her spine at thought of him in that mood. She has seen him like that only ones; the first time she tried to escape him:

She had been trapped in one of the many labyrinths in the gardens of Whitehall, and he had followed her in. She knew he was angry, she could tell by his voice when he called for jealousy was sickening, they weren't even married! And if she got her way, they would never be. She had danced one or three dances with the visiting Spanish Marquise Delgado y Allende at the feast of May. Every time the Marquise turned her around, she could feel his piercing stare. It burned a whole right trough her, trough her wary soul. When the Marquise had finally let her go, she stalked past him with daggers in her back. And then she ran.

She could hear his footsteps, his calls; she felt his breath when he finally caught her. She fought the best she could, tried to run, to scream, but he silenced her with his mouth. His kiss was hard, passionate, dominant. It made her cringe. He bit her bottom lip, tried to enter her mouth. It was hard enough to draw blood, but she refused and instead, she kneed his groin. He threw his head back in pain, and she almost managed to get away. Almost. He jumped after her, grabbed her hair and trapped her between the wall of wigs. She tried to kick him again, but he trapped her legs between his and caught her wrists above her head in his strong hand. He used the other one to grab her chin and forcing her to look at him.

"What the hell was that, Isabella? Huh?" She gave him her most defying look. "I was dancing, you bastard, what do you think?! Let me go this instant!" He narrowed his eyes. "You call that dancing? That fucking prick almost fucked you right there! You are mine, have you forgotten that?" His eyes where on fire, his handsome face struck with anger and madness. He looked like an angel of revenge, with a dash of Satan himself. At that moment, she was afraid him. She had never been so stricken with fear ever. He was so tall and large, and she was so small, he could easily break her down to little pieces! As the King's best friend, he could basically do whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted. And she was no exception. She was noble, but so was he, at least now, now that the King had granted him an estate and a title. " I am not your woman! I am no ones woman!" Her voice was tired, small, but she raised it as much as she could. " I hate you to the wary depths of my soul! I will never marry you! Never!"

She tore her face away from him, but he grabbed her again, and this time, he pulled her hair back at the same time. "You are mine, lady. I don't care what you want; I don't care what you think. I don't know what you have imagined yourself about this, but you are ought to be the Duchess of Suffolk in two short months, and I will not have my wife strolling around other men! You are mine, Isabella! MINE!" With that, he released his hold of her, and she fell to the ground. He cocked his head while looking at her defying face. "Still not quite given up, are we, sweetheart? Well, well, we have plenty of time taming you during the following weeks. You know I love a challenge!" His anger was now entirely gone, leaving only a teasing, cruel tone and triumphing steps as he walked away from her, leaving her to her sobs of frustration.

"Milady Stafford?" Her old nurse and the young guard that has been paid of to help them bring her out of her memories. "Milady, are you ready? This is the only chance we have!" She nods, throws her hood on, and they leave the room quickly. On their way down the stairs, she thinks about him again. Him, the reason she is fleeing her home, her family, her King and Queen. Rage and fear coil in her stomach when she pictured his face. His handsome, angelic face with the strong, masculine features. Any lady at the court would kill to be in her shoes. They can have him, she doesn't care. All she wants is to be as far away from him as possible. She really, really hates him. Now more than ever, now that the wedding is only three weeks ahead. If she gets caught now, he will never let her out of his sight again.

They make it past the guards, thanks to her disguise. Her long, golden hair is stuck up her maiden cape, and her simple dress and dark wool cloak hides her noble features. Out in the yard, a wagon awaits, fully packed. She and her old nurse climbs in, while the young guard takes the reins. She turns one more time to look at Whitehall, before she feels the carriage moving and she closes her eyes. Praying he will not find out before dawn. She keeps on praying until the castle is out of site.

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What did you think? I am not quite sure if I am going to continue with this, so please review and tell me what you think. Also, I am not quite happy with the title, so if you have a suggestion, tell me!

hugs and kisses