Summary: When Colette Weston is thrown into the court of King Henry VIII and his wife Queen Anne Boleyn, will it be as luxurious as her brother Sir Francis made it seem or will court take away her innocence, pride and contentment? How will she change history?
Author's Note: When I watched The Tudors I noticed that there were only four men who were accused and executed for adultery with the Queen Anne Boleyn: George Boleyn, Sir Henry Norris, Sir William Brereton and Mark Smeaton. One man was left out…and that was Sir Francis Weston. I am going to go by the show of The Tudors, but just adding Francis and his twin (and fictional) sister Colette into the mix. So it will be based on the characters and events of the show rather than real life. But of course I had to make it my own Fanfic. Anyway, here is the story of Colette and Francis Weston and their time at court. Please Review
Chapter One
Summer-Fall 1525
I sit as neat as an obedient child, on a small stool in the corner of my gilded cage. I am Colette Weston and I am only a girl of fifteen years. Although my father, Richard Weston the Treasurer of Calais, is a man of high status, I have never been to a high status gathering. I have never been to the royal court like my father and twin brother, Francis. At my feet are the remains of my dinner on a golden plate. Most days I spend in my room. My mother is always in the city, father at court or Calais and dear Francis training to become a page. My maid Gabrielle gave me a slice of meat with a piece of bread and some ale. I barely ate any of it. My mother, Anne, had been telling me to keep my figure ever since I was five. I nibbled some of the meat, didn't have any bread and left the ale. It was like a yearlong fast. My long blonde-red hair flowed down my hunched over back as I knitted an image of a joker hanging upside down by his ankle. I whisper to myself what the image means, "His gallows is two hanging trees. It means spring and renewal and life, not death. There are two trees; the man is balanced between them. He is the very center of resurrection." My mother would've thought of it as a horrid sight, but I actually thought of it as comical as I made an upside down smile on the man. I didn't like the image that was so common now: men and women hanging from their necks. I make my joker hang from his ankle. If he wanted he could stretch up and untie himself, but instead I leave him hanging for he is willingly there.
The July sun is beating down onto me from my window, and the pasture lands around Sutton Place are shimmering in the haze of heat; even the bees are lazy, buzzing and then falling silent as if drunk on flowers. Oh how much do I want to go in the sunlight right now? My mother, when she's on these often trips, always wants me to stay inside. Although I could always bring Gabrielle along with me I have to keep hidden from outside until she returns. I knew next month father and Francis would be home. Then mother would be too concealed in the stories of court and taking care of the men I could go outside whenever I wanted. Francis was really the only one that ever paid any mind to me. He would be interested in how I was feeling and the short and most likely boring stories I had to share about home while he was away. When Francis was home I was in high spirits.
Slowly, the intense heat of summer starts to fade, and it grows cooler in September. The trees of the great forest that surround the lake start to turn color from tired green to sere yellow, and the swallows swirl around the turrets of the castle every evening. The rows on rows of vine grow heavy with fruit, and every day the peasant women go out with their sleeves rolled up over their big forearms and pick and pick the fruit into big wicker baskets, which the men swing onto carts and take back to the press.
Like every time my father and brother come back home, mother sends me out with some of my ladies-in-waiting to get the fresh wines they make here. As we ride out a peasant woman comes up to us with small cups and hands them to us, "'ust pressed me Lady." The woman cackled as our lips puckered up at the sour and fresh taste of wine. "A the Sirs comin' back? Frem cot?"
I gave a kind smile to the woman's accent and nodded, "Yes, they are. My mum has sent me to retrieve some of the best wines, like always."
She nodded and snapped her fingers, "Winifred!"
A girl not much older than me came out with a drooped head and a basket filled with wines. Her feet were stained purple and blue and she handed the basket up to me on my high horse. She bowed down and murmured, "Me Lady."
"Thank you," I said and handed the girl a pouch filled with coins, "For your kindness and loyalty to my family."
The girl, Winifred, took the pouch with shaky hands and nodded, "'Ank ya me Lady."
As we rode back to the castle I put my black cape on and threw the hood over my head lazily. It was starting to become cold as the winter winds blew our way.
Carrying the basket in my gloved hands I walked up to the entrance of my home. Before the guards could even put their hands on the handles the doors flew open and my mother rushed out and pulled me in, "Couldn't you have come home a bit faster Colette?!"
My eyes widened at her shrill voice and she parted from me as I took off my cape and gloves, handing the basket to one of the house women, mother has never talked to me like this. She has never seemed to be in a hurry. "What is it mother?"
She crossed her hands over her chest and sighed as she looked me up and down, "You are a mess, I'll explain to you as I make you look presentable," she started walking down the long corridors to mine and Francis's wing on the west side. I stood there for just a second, but it was long enough for her to turn around and say, "Please hurry Colette."
I hurried down the hall to meet her, my skirts flying as I did. When I got to her side I murmured, "Father and Francis are coming tomorrow mother, what's the hurry?"
"I just got a letter an hour ago, Colette. An hour ago! They are coming home today, but with some company…" she didn't look at me as she said this and kept on walking as quickly and as gracefully as the important woman she was.
I started to think of who could possibly be with father that would cause mother to act this way. The King? No. Why would the King come all the way here? I know he was fighting battles in the South near Calais, which my father has been protecting, but they signed the Treaty of the More just a month ago. If the King were coming, then it would be to congratulate my father and perhaps promote him. But after France was defeated, the King announced Father as the Treasurer of Calais. He has already been promoted. "Who else is coming mother?"
"Men from the Kings Court, specifically the Duke of Suffolk," she said, still talking as quickly as she was walking.
"What for?" I asked, but she didn't answer me. I couldn't imagine why the Duke would want to come here. From letters I know that Francis has become friends with people in the Kings circle and the King himself. I am guessing the Duke was one of those friends.
When we got to my rooms mother threw open my bureau and started searching for a dress, "Those are my riding dresses mother…" I said to her.
She shut the bureau and shouted for some of mine and her ladies to come in. I didn't realize it before, but when I poked my head out my door and into the hallway there were housekeepers running about everywhere. Mother finally got me a dress, one of the nicest ones I had. Barely used. It had a corset top, a sweeping skirt, adorned with floral patterns in bronze and champagne tones, accented with burgundy sleeve trims and had pearl detailing. I remember wearing it once for Christmas, nothing else. As I put it on behind the dividers in my dress room I heard the other women frolic about. When I came out they quickly seated me and arranged my hair so it fell down my back in perfect curls. My mother placed a new French hood on top of my head that had embellished fabric with pearls.
My mother took me by the chin and turned me so I was facing her, "You're fair enough, no need for powder. You see? This is why I keep you inside and away from the sun." She pinched my cheeks and lips. And before we left she placed a gold plated necklace on my neck, it is decorated with seventeen Black Onyx flat cabochons and sixty eight pearls. From the necklace is suspended the Weston pendant. I stroke it with my fingers in awe and looked up at my mother, "Your favorite necklace?"
As always my mother didn't look me directly in the eye and nodded, "My most eye catching one. You want the pendant to be noticeable; you want the men to be drawn to it."
Understanding what my mother was saying, my hand flew to my chest, "Doesn't the Duke have a wife? The King's sister?"
"Yes," she said bluntly, "But I doubt that it will last long."
"Why do you say so mother?"
"The marriage was scandalous. It happened without the Kings permission. And besides, the Duke is always interested in many women; he can't stay on one for long. Even the King doesn't love his own wife," my eyes widened at my mother's audacity, but she ignored me and went on, "You'll soon see that love does not exist in the English Court, my naïve Nicolette."
I stood up and stepped towards my mother, "You still haven't explained why the Duke and his men are coming, mother." I said sternly.
Her jaw locked, "They're going to celebrate their defeat of the French…they're going to stay until you turn fifteen Nicolette and then you'll leave with them."
For a moment that seemed like forever, the world was still. My breathe had been taken away from me as I looked about my room. It would soon be empty. I would no longer live in it. Where I used to sew and read my favorite books by the fire. Or look out the windows on a nice summer day. But then I started to remember all of the stories Francis has told me about the luxurious court and its splendor; never ending flow of wine, the food given to the King and Queen given to all, the best musicians, dancing all night, jousting, cards and the most wonderful men and women. "Why am I going?"
"There are rumors that there is a new Queen on the rise…" she murmured, looking at the ground in disdain.
"Whom could it possibly be? Tell me mother."
"Lady Anne Boleyn, daughter of Viscount Rochford."
"This Anne Boleyn…am I to serve her?" I asked with a raised brow.
My mother looked at me with a quivering lip and nodded, "Yes. Become acquainted with her at the least. The King doesn't want any of Katherine's ladies to serve Anne, they were all from Spain."
I nodded, "Do you not approve of Lady Boleyn?"
She shrugged, "I've only been in court once. I had to leave early for I was having you and Francis. It was the same day Queen Catherine had their son Henry. Poor thing only lived for seven days. From what I know the Queen was one of the kindest people I have ever met. I cannot approve yet I cannot disapprove of Anne Boleyn. There are many rumors of her to be a seductress, yet there are rumors of her being a virgin and the King is seducing her. One can never be sure which."
I nodded in understanding, "What will be my position when I get there?" I asked the questions frantically. I was so nervous, I was shaking.
My mother walked towards me and rested her hands on my arms, "You're shaking like a leaf, Nicolette. It will be alright, besides you have three months to worry about it. It's not like they're taking you away today."
I tried to catch my breath, "Please answer my question mother…"
Her shoulders slumped and again she looked away from me, "I don't know. I am guessing the men will tell you when they get here. Just please do not worry about it now. For they are coming soon." When she looked up at me she stroked my face with her hand, "My dear and sweet Nicolette. I want you to stay my little girl."
Before I could reply she took her hand away and walked out of the room. I follow her like a shadow as she walks around the castle doing about her business. Making sure everything is at its best. She looks at me and nods, "I'm trying to make a good impression. You know that whatever the Duke sees of you he'll tell the King. He'll write to him when staying here and the King will write back."
"To see if I am suitable…?" I said it as if it was a question, but it was merely a statement.
She nodded, "Now please stop following me, Colette. Make yourself useful and practice your meeting with the Duke. Stand tall and curtsy low."
"Yes mother," I said. She walked away and with my ladies behind me I walked to the entrance of the household near the courtyard. And from the inside I could hear the guard shout, "They're here!"
I run to the window and I see the carriages pull up and the many men on horseback accompany them. I see father and Francis get off of their horses and I cannot contain myself. Then I see another man walk up to them, dressed lavishly in nice furs and coats. It must be the Duke. They start to walk towards our home and I get a better look at him; broad shouldered, tall, handsome. Francis and the Duke are laughing about something and I cannot help, but to smile myself. It is odd to see my young brother share a joke with a man older than himself. The Duke looks as if he could be an older brother when standing next to Francis.
A hand rests on my arm and I turn around to see it is mother. Her eyes are like daggers and she shoots a glare at me, "Nicolette, what in God's name are you doing?" She looks outside the window like I am and sees the men and then turns her head back to me, "Do you really think the Duke wants to see a young girl such as yourself gawking at him? Now please, go into the corner and bow down when he comes in."
I nod, "Yes mother," and do as I am told. She stands close to the door while I stand submissively in the corner near the stairwell.
The guard boys open the doors and shout, "Charles Brandon, The Duke of Suffolk!"
I sink down into a curtsey, and I imagine they can barely see me in the shadows of the tall stairwell. Mother welcomes the Duke and happily hugs Francis and father. The room seems to fill with happiness. But then I hear the Dukes low voice ask, "Now where is your daughter, Nicolette? Is she away?"
"No, no Your Grace," mother said frantically, "She is right over there."
I hear the Dukes heavy footsteps come to me and soon he has paused right in front of me, "Nicolette? Nicolette Weston?"
I sink even lower, "Yes, Your Grace."
He puts a hand under my elbow and raises me up. His other hand grabs my face and turns it to the light of the open doorway, his hand under my chin makes me feel as a child, and he is looking to see if my mouth is clean. My family is waiting for him; there must be a dozen people around us, but he acts as if we were quite alone. He stares at me intently, as if he could read me. I look back at him blankly, my mother will be angry if I say the wrong thing to this most important man. I give my lip a little nip, and I hear his sudden intake of breath.
"My God, how old are you?"
"I'll be turning fifteen on New Years, Your Grace."
"Of course, of course, how could I forget?"
There seems nothing else to say, but still he is staring at me, still he holds me, one hand on my elbow, the other on my chin.
"Your Grace?" I whisper, hoping he will come to his senses and let me go.
"Nicolette?" He whispers my name as if he is speaking to himself.
"May I serve you in some way?" I mean to say "Please let me go," but a girl of my age cannot say such a thing to one of the greatest men in England.
He gives a little choke. "Indeed, I think you may. Nicolette, you are going to be a beautiful woman, a beautiful young woman."
I glance around. My family and his entourage are waiting for him, hardly moving, pretending not to see, not to listen. Nobody here is going to tell him to let me go.
"Do you have a sweetheart? Eh? Someone taken your fancy? Some cheeky little page boy given you a kiss?"
"No, my lord. No, of course not…" I am stammering as if I am in the wrong, as if I have done something as stupid and as vulgar as he suggests. He is chuckling as though to indulge me. I lean back from his grip, from his avid gaze. "My father is very strict," I say feebly. "The honor of my family…They would never allow—."
"You don't wish for a husband?" he asks me disbelievingly. "Don't you think of the man who will marry you, when you are in your bed at night? Do you dream of a young husband who will come for you like a troubadour and speak of love?"
I am trembling now; this is a nightmare. His beautiful face comes closer and closer, and now he is whispering in my ear. I begin to think he has gone mad. He looks at me as if he would eat me. Monsters could be so beautiful. I feel as if a world has opened up to me that I do not want to know of.
"No, no," I whisper. But then, as he does not release me but presses me closer, I have a sudden spurt of anger. I remember in a rush who I am, what I am, "May it please Your Grace, I am a virgin," I say, the words tumbling. "No man has laid a hand on me; no man would dare. I am in the keeping of my mother, a very strict woman, and I should not be so questioned…."
I look over to my family and my mother twitches at my words, father is passive, and Francis is looking angrily at the Duke, but none of them say a word. He loosens his grip on me, but before backing away he looks in my blue eyes as I look into his pale grey ones. Charles dips his head down low as if we were sharing a secret and gives me a small kind smile, "Oh…I fear of what the court would do to you..."
But then he pulls away and gives a big smile to my family, "She is perfect for court! Everyone will love her."
My mother gives a sigh of relief and father gives me a smile. Francis steps closer to me and puts a hand on my shoulder, "Can my sister and I be dismissed? I haven't seen her in so long we need to talk about our endeavors we experienced in each other's absence."
Father nodded, "Of course. But please be back soon to dine."
Francis and I then left and went to the library in our wing and he sat me down in front of the fire. He plopped down without grace in the chair next to me with that toothy grin of his, "Did he scare you?"
I squirmed in my seat, "Yes."
"Well you mustn't worry. It was just one of the Dukes tests and you passed. Well done sister, you should be glad. You handled the situation…well. I believe the Duke was taken aback by the vigor in your words."
My lips pressed together in annoyance and I stared at the fire, "It was quite an odd test."
He smiles and nods, "Yes, but he'll write the King, telling him you are splendid. Not because you did something correct, but you are splendid inside and out. But I must warn you, there are men at court that are not as nice as the Duke. They will try to steal your honor. Our honor. I'll point them out to you when we get to court."
I take a worried breath and nod, "Do you fancy any women at court?"
Francis shrugged and shrunk a bit deeper into his chair. He put his hand on the whiskers of his chin as if in deep thought, "There are some beautiful women at court. They might be jealous of you."
"Please answer my question, Francis! For heaven's sake you are just like mother! Always trying to go around the questions asked," I pouted.
He chuckled, "Dear Collie! You are in a mood today aren't you," I glared at him; "Alright, alright…" his happy face soon became solemn as he looked into the fire. His big brown eyes darkened as he said, "I fancy the Lady Anne Boleyn."
My eyes widened and I shook my head, "No, you cannot fancy a woman who is of status such as her. You are walking into deep waters if you get acquainted with the Kings Mistress…and perhaps his future Queen!"
Francis's face became hard and he looked at me coldly, "She is as pure as you, Collie!"
I stand up quickly in agitation, "How could you possibly say so? Do you know that she is a virgin? Did you question her as the Duke just questioned me?"
He shook his head, "No, of course not."
I started to calm down from my sudden outburst, "I want to meet this Anne Boleyn. She seems quite the character."
Francis stood up next to me, "And you soon will. Now come, dinner may be ready."
Fall-Winter 1525
Your Majesty,
Although I have only spent one night here, I see that the Lady Weston is a perfect choice for the Mistress Anne. She has the splendor of La Bella Simonetta and I believe that nature never formed anything more beautiful. Lady Colette passes excellent skills as a dancer, card player and writer. She's so presentable and so pleasant and is quite a pious little creature, considering her youthful age, that I am beholden to you for sending me to her. I pray that my wife is happy at Court and Your Majesty is doing well. Your most Faithful and Humble Servant,
Charles Brandon
XXXXX
I whimper softly as I open my eyes. I'm on the floor and blood is coming down into my eyes. "Lady Colette! Are you alright?" Gabrielle asked rushing towards me as I have fallen from my prayer stool in the corner in front of my tiny altar and Bible. I look around and I realize that my curtains are closed and it is probably about midnight. Gabrielle places a hand on my shoulder and although she is only a year or two older than me she acts as if she's my mother, cooing softly, "Please, my Lady. Your mum will be quite upset if I tell her that I let you stay up praying to our Lord at such late an hour. You need rest, dear, especially when you will be on your toes for the next month or so."
"What are you talking about, Gabrielle?" I ask tiredly, rubbing my eyes.
"Oh…" she murmured worriedly, "I hope you didn't hit your head too hard. The Duke of Suffolk is here."
Then everything flooded back to me and I frowned. Tonight was absolutely horrid. The Duke had the decency to keep his eyes away from me during sup, but when it was all over my parents were showing me off like cattle to the Duke, showing him all of the 'lovely' things I could do. Like recite a poem I wrote, read the nights prayer in Latin, play a tune on the harp and eventually dance.
The Duke watched me with eyes kind. Kinder than they were when he was giving the 'test'. He would compliment me and I would always curtsey and thank him for his kindness. It was mostly my mother who showed me off as Francis rolled his eyes in the corner and father just nodded and smiled in the nice way of his that made the corner of his eyes wrinkle in a handsome way.
The horrid thing about it was the feeling in my heart. I felt as if I was being vain, but I was only obeying mother's orders. I know it is selfish of me, but I wish that the Duke didn't even come and bring this worry upon me.
I looked at Gabrielle and shook my head, "No I haven't forgotten." And with that I went to bed.
Next morning, at breakfast, I learn why I was Gabrielle was so flustered when I passed out during prayer. My mother tells me to prepare for a long journey to court and I am quite shaken as I ask, "But why must we go mother? Of course I will obey your wish to go, but I thought that I was to be leaving for court after my birthday." I am worried that when we leave I will not come back to my home in Sutton Place for quite some time. I cannot help but to wonder if I will be meeting the King and his new and great Lady, Anne Boleyn. So many thoughts zoomed through my mind like whether or not the King will like me or if I should stay in court with the new Lady already. My hands circle my wrists as I wait for my mother's answer.
"I am sorry to say that your betrothal to Edward Seymour was ended. It was a good match when it was made, but unfortunately, things have changed. You will the Privy Council, as well as select judges, and you will say 'yes', that you wish your betrothal shall be ended. Do you understand?"
"Why?"
She sighs as if I am tiresome, "Because they found a better match for him." She hissed under her breath, "Damn those ambitious Seymours!" I wanted to remind her that we may be considered ambitious, but I dare kept my mouth shut.
I want to ask who, but I don't dare ask, for it might make mother angry or sad. "After I consent to the end of my betrothal…then what will happen?"
"His Grace, the king, will give you in marriage to the man of his choice." She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, "He better give you to a man of standards, that's the least he could do." My mother only spoke this way about the King in front of me, her lone daughter, who always tries to please her.
I bit my bottom lip, "Another betrothal…?" I don't want another betrothal, but of course nothing in a man's world can go a woman's way.
"Yes." My mother looks at me and I can tell she sees my disappointment and she goes on, "Your duty is to bear a son and heir, a boy for us, the Weston's, as well as the man you are to marry." she says briskly, "That was an ambition great enough for me, so now it's an ambition great enough for you as well. Now go and get ready to leave. Your women will have packed your clothes; you just have to fetch your other things for the journey."
I did as I was told. I fetched my book of prayers and my stationary. It will take us two days to get to Hampton Court Palace. My mother, father, brother and the Duke all ride in the front while I am to ride in the back behind one of the grooms. He is called Wat, and he thinks himself a great charmer in the stables and kitchen. He winks at me and all I can do is blush and look away. He tightens up the stir-up and says to me, "Right and tight? Righty tighty?" I nod coldly, so as to warn him I will not flirt with him all the way up to court.
He sings instead which as just as bad, about love and haymaking and I wish my mother will tell him to be quiet, but instead all of them ahead of me are smiling in the autumn sun. Soon enough my brother backs up to ride alongside me and says, "We're not too far from Abbots inn. You're not too tired now are you?"
We stay at an inn, not even at court and all I can think about is how Our Lady staid in an inn at Bethlehem, when surely Herod must have had spare rooms in the palace. I try to be resigned, like Her. My Lady Mother summons the tailors and the seamstresses to our inn, and I am fitted for a wonderful gown. They say the-queen-to-be, Lady Anne Boleyn loves beautiful clothes and is wearing a new color of ruby red made from a new dye. My mother orders me a gown of angelic white by way of contrast, and has it trimmed with yellow and blue roses for the house of Weston to remind everyone that I may be only a girl of fifteen years old but I am the heiress to our house.
It is all written down before we arrive, and all I can say is, "I dissent," and sign my name, which is only Colette Weston, and it is done. Nobody asks me for my opinion on the matter, for I am only the young girl of the Treasurer of Calais. I shouldn't have an opinion. We go to wait outside the presence chamber, and then one of the king's men comes out and calls, "Lady Colette Weston!" and everyone looks around and sees me. When I feel everyone looking at me, I cast down my eyes, and then my family leads the way into the king's presence chamber where I see the Duke of Suffolk is already waiting next to the King.
King Henry is on his great throne with his cloth of estate suspended over the chair and a throne almost the same size beside him for Queen Katherine. She is dark-haired and blue-eyed, with a round face and strait nose. She looks kind and welcomes me with a kind smile and I see a great light of holiness in her. The king beside her looks quite handsome and is fair with eyes that inspect me. They both smile at me as I come in and curtsey. Next to the queen is a most beautiful woman, perhaps the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She is wearing a gown of blue with a silver thread running through, which makes it shimmer like water. She sees me staring at her, and she smiles back at me, which makes her face light up with a warm beauty like sunlight on water on a summer's day.
"Who is that?" I whisper to my brother and my mother pinches my arm to remind me to be silent.
"The Lady Anne Boleyn. Stop staring," Francis snaps, and pinches me as mother did to recall me to the present. I curtsey very low and I smile at the king and queen.
"I am giving your daughter to marry my dearly loved friend, William Compton," the king turned to my father and brother. "She can live with you until it is time for her to marry."
My family do not look much pleased by this news, but I am dumbfounded. I wait for someone to ask if I am alright with this, but my family just bows or curtseys and steps back and then someone else steps forwards and it all seems to be over.
When we walk out my family looks so upset and my brother takes off his cap and says, "This is blasphemy! How could he?!"
"What's wrong?" I ask, "Dear God, please tell me what's wrong? I've never heard of William Compton."
"This is an even worse match for you, my dear," my father murmurs, "William Compton is a simple courtier, no title at all. I wonder why he didn't just give you to Thomas Seymour, Edward's brother. It seems a much better match and…"
My brother looks enraged, "He is giving dear Colette to someone who is twice her age! I do not understand. Edward seems to be a much better choice. Only two years older than her and if you had to ask me they would look quite nice together."
I'm worried of what my family is saying and I clasp my hands together nervously, "Won't he want to meet me first?"
"Why would he?" my mother asks.
"To see if he likes me?"
She shakes her head. "It is not you he wants," she says, "It is the son you will bear, but he can wait until you're sixteen."
"I am to be married then?"
"Of course," she says, as if I am a fool to ask.
"And how old will he be?"
She thinks for a moment, "Forty-one."
And when she says so, there is nothing more I want to do than to go back to my home at Sutton Place and never come back to this court.
TBC
