Author's Notes - I was never quite happy with how the first chapter turned out for this story, and as I've grown as a writer with my other stories, I felt like I should do this story justice by revisiting it and rewriting it. As this one catches up with the other story, I will eventually be deleting it. If you liked the original, I hope you'll be with me during my journey to make it even better. Thank you all for your kind words of encouragement. Please drop me a line and let me know how much you like it. I love hearing from you, even if it's just you adding my story to your favorites list. It gives me happy feels.
Was she going mad? Katherine wondered, even as she cast pleading eyes towards the statue of the Virgin Mary within the confines of her private chapel. The quiet click of her rosary beads moving through her fingers anchored her in the present even as she pondered the future. So many times, she'd prostrated herself before the images of both the Virgin and Christ in hopes of them hearing her desperate prayers for a living son. Was it possible that they had answered her at last?
Unwinding a hand from her beads, she gently placed it on the stomacher of her gown. Her courses were due almost three months ago, filling her with a sense of hope she hadn't felt in sometime. She knew her ladies had been whispering to themselves about the fact that she was getting older and that perhaps her childbearing years were leaving her. Katherine couldn't bear the thought, eyes closing in silent pain. Henry hadn't been faithful since the early years of their marriage, his attention straying with every miscarriage. Some dark part of her mind whispered that if she could no longer bear his children it would only get worse.
She'd been surprised when he'd shown up in her chambers those few months ago, so drunk he was almost tripping over his own two feet. Long since used to such things, she'd endured his amorous attentions with little difficulty. When he'd finally rolled off of her and fell asleep, one of her ladies crept in and helped her change into a fresh gown. She'd stayed awake for hours that night, one hand resting on her belly, silently praying for a miracle.
Please, she silently begged of the Virgin, please let me not fail again. Give me a son to fill my empty womb.
The young woman silently sneaked through London's back alleys, glancing neither left nor right as she hurried along. Her cloak was drawn up over her head, obscuring her identity. Upon reaching her destination, she knocked quickly, glancing around to make sure she hadn't been followed. A sudden gush of warm air indicated the door had opened, and she entered quickly.
"What can I do for you, dearie?" A matronly woman stood before her, hands resting on her wide hips. "Need to take care of a little... problem?"
Startled, the woman in the cloak glanced up, her hood dropping from her head. "No, you don't-"
Noting the rich dress of the woman before her, the midwife shrugged. "Hardly the first time I've had to help one of you court ladies. Come on, this won't take long."
"I'm sorry, lady, but truly, you misunderstand. I'm here on behalf of my mistress," the young woman elaborated, hastily pulling a sealed parchment from the hidden pocket of her gown. "I've also a purse for you, if you agree to help or to buy your silence if need be."
Shocked into silence, the midwife simply stared at the young woman for a few moments. "Alright... what is it exactly your mistress wishes of me?"
"She wishes to be examined by you, to confirm if her suspicions are correct. Three days hence, she will be brought here to be examined by you, should you consent," the maid replied, fetching the small purse from the pocket of her gown. "This is half of your payment, you will receive another one should you consent."
The subtle clink of coins was not lost on the other woman, who held out her hand expectantly. When it was passed over, she promptly opened it, only to gape in surprise at the gold gleaming within. "Do you consent?" the other woman asked, causing the midwife to look up from the purse.
"Aye, I consent," the midwife agreed, closing the purse and tucking it in her own pocket. If there was more where that came from, she'd be stupid to turn it down. "Three days?"
"Three days," the maid agreed, and with the barest curtsy, drew her hood back over her head and scurried out.
Three days later, the midwife half-expected that the young woman who'd turned up at her door would not show up again. She'd gone about her business as usual, tending to expectant mothers and assisting with the birth of a couple different children. Closing her curtains, she sighed wearily only to jump in surprise when a sudden knock came at her door. Hesitantly, she went over to her door, opening it only a crack until she noticed the fine cloak that the woman who'd visited her days ago. "Come in, come in," she beckoned, opening the door wider. This time, two people came in, both swathed in fine material from head to toe, obscuring their identities.
The same woman who'd visited her before was the first to lower her hood. "Are we alone?" she questioned the midwife, even as she went to the windows and made sure the curtains were closed completely.
"Yes, of course, dear. It's not like we're expecting the Que-," she started before gasping with astonishment as none other than Queen Katherine was revealed to be the other woman under the cloak. "Your Majesty! Forgive me, my lady, I meant no offense!" the midwife begged, curtsying low before her.
"You may rise," Katherine replied, motioning with a wave of her hand. "You didn't know for a reason. The King can never know I was ever here, do you understand?"
"Yes, Majesty," the midwife agreed, rising from her curtsy at the Queen's gesture. She still couldn't believe it. Queen Katherine, here, in her home! "I'm sorry, my lady, but I don't understand...," she began, before trailing off.
"You have consented to see me, and I find myself in need of your unique brand of services. I find that I trust other women in these matters than the royal physicians.
Are you still willing to help me, now that you know who I am?" Katherine questioned, staring coolly at the woman before her. Maude had told her three days ago that the woman had consented, but now she couldn't help but wonder if the woman was going to change her mind now that she knew the identity of her client.
"Of course, my lady! It would be my honor to help you in whatever way I can," the midwife agreed without hesitation. She would never be able to tell a soul the truth but she would know that once upon a time, she'd been of service to the queen. "How may I be of service, Majesty?"
"My courses have been long past due for sometime," Katherine began, glancing over at where Maude stood like a sentry near the door. Her lady in waiting gave her an encouraging smile when she felt Katherine's gaze. Returning the look with a small smile of her own, she turned her attention back to the midwife. "I need to know...if either my childbearing years are at an end or...," here she paused, hand moving to caress her stomach,"if I'm with child."
A few weeks later, having confirmed the news with Dr. Lincare and buying the man's silence until she herself told the king, she sent one of her ladies with a note inviting the king to dine with her privately. She'd instructed the young woman to do whatever it took to get Henry to agree, telling her to hint that the queen had news for the king. Liveried servants came and went, setting up a small feast before the young woman returned with Henry's consent.
"His Majesty, the king," the herald announced as Henry was shown into her chambers. He looked vaguely annoyed, though whether at her or the happenings at court she couldn't tell.
Rising, Katherine curtsied in answer to his bow. "Henry," she greeted, smiling warmly as he grasped her hand and placed a dry kiss on her knuckles.
"Katherine," he greeted in turn, leading her to her seat and waiting for her before he sat down himself. Her ladies moved around them with a practiced ease, pouring them both wine before leaving them to their own devices. The lady who poured Katherine's wine made sure to water it down, which didn't escape his notice. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully even as he helped himself to the various sweetmeats and cheeses laid before them. "I was disappointed that you weren't at court today."
"I'm sorry Henry, but I wasn't feeling well earlier," Katherine replied contritely, swirling her watered wine briefly before rising it to her lips and taking a small sip. "The malady seems to have passed... for now."
"It's nothing serious I hope? Have you spoken to Dr. Lincare?" Henry questioned, slightly alarmed, as always, at the thought of illness. Since his brother had died, the thought of sickening and dying was a terrifying one. Especially now, that he was the king, and his only heir was his daughter. He couldn't -wouldn't!- let the Tudor dynasty die. Leaving the kingdom in the hands of a woman would destroy not only the Tudor line but also plunge the entire continent into civil war again.
"Yes, I have and no, it's nothing serious. In fact, the news was most welcome," she replied, helping herself to a particularly rare piece of meat. She normally didn't care for it being too rare, but now she felt the craving particularly keenly. Katherine cast her eyes demurely to her plate, glancing only briefly at Henry with a secret smile on her face.
Gaping like a landed carp, he simply stared at his wife for long moments. Was it possible? He'd almost given up hope of ever having another child with Katherine, especially once Lady Blount had given birth to little Henry Fitzroy. He'd begun studying scripture for an answer and the only thing that made sense was that he was being punished for marrying his brother's wife. Pope Julius II had granted them a dispensation allowing them to marry, but now... now he questioned whether god was refusing to give him a legitimate, living son to show his disfavor. "You are certain?" he finally ventured, a vague hope blossoming in his chest.
"As certain as anyone can be, at least until the child quickens," she agreed, a genuine smile lighting up her features. Katherine herself was almost certain, regardless of the fact that she hadn't felt the child move yet. Her breasts had been growing sore as of late and she'd begun throwing up more often than not in the mornings at the sight or smell of certain foods. What other reason for her symptoms than that of pregnancy?
Whooping in joy, Henry pushed away from the table and hurried over to her side, dropping to his knees before her. Hand shaking, he reached for her stomach only to hesitate briefly, raising his gaze to meet hers. With a gentle smile, she brought his hand to rest against her stomach, holding his hand against her. They remained that way for several moments, until suddenly, she felt the faintest flutter in her stomach. Henry's gaze turned wondering, lowering to where his hand was pressed against his wife's body. "My son...," he whispered, moving his hand gently as another flutter was felt.
Many months later, Henry had been awoken by his squire informing him the queen had gone into labor overnight. Now, he was currently pacing his presence chamber reminiscent of the lions that graced the Tudor coat of arms. Prayers fell from his lips, though he couldn't say anymore what exactly he was praying for. A living son, his wife surviving, they all seemed to run together in a jumbled mass. He was sure he looked like a crazy person, pacing around and seemingly talking to himself.
After what seemed a small eternity, the sound of the door opening caused him to stop mid-pace and whirl around to face a frightened looking groom. "Yes? What is it? What news of the queen?" he barked, firing the questions rapidly before the boy could even speak. He stalked forward, causing the groom to back up a step as the king approached. "Speak, boy!"
"Your Majesty, Her Majesty is delivered of a son," the boy began, jumping back about a foot at the king's joyous shout,"as well as a daughter."
Not hesitating for a moment, he rushed past the frightened groom, breaking into a run as he reached the hallway. He quickly managed to traverse the castle, only barely hearing Charles Brandon congratulating him just outside his doors. He made it to Katherine's chambers in record time, breathing heavily from his exertion. Several of the queen's ladies looked almost scandalized at seeing the king in such a disheveled state, but he ignored them all. As Dr. Lincare exited Katherine's bed chambers, Henry hurried to the man's side. "How fares the queen and my son?" he asked, not expecting an answer even as he made his way into his wife's chamber.
Katherine looked pale as cheese, her beautiful red hair darkened with sweat. A vaguely sour smell emanated from the chambers, but he was too distracted to care. Two of her ladies each held a bundle that was wiggling, but otherwise silent. "Katherine, sweetheart,"he began, going down on his knees beside her bed. "You've made me so proud, my love!"
Cloudy blue eyes fluttered open, and her head turned weakly on her pillow towards Henry's voice. "Henry...," she whispered, lifting one hand slightly towards him before it fell back to the bed.
Grasping her hand between his, he kissed her hand as he'd done months ago. "My dearest love," he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against their clasped hands. When her breathing suddenly grew ragged, his eyes popped open, instantly looking towards her face. "Doctor!" he shouted, noting that she was turning paler by the second.
Lincare rushed in, his assistants following. "Your Majesty, I'm sorry, but I must ask you to leave," he instructed, rushing to Katherine's side.
Rising, Henry followed the two ladies carrying the children, both of which were silently weeping. Falling to his knees just outside the door, he turned his eyes up towards heaven. "Please, God, don't take her from me! Please!" he begged, openly weeping.
Moments later, Lincare exited the chamber, looking at Henry sadly. "I'm so sorry, your Majesty, we tried everything we could..."
The newborn babies, which had been silent in the arms of their mother's ladies in waiting, suddenly began to wail loudly as though they sensed the loss of their mother. Curling into a fetal position on the floor, Henry continued to weep, mourning the loss of the wife that had finally given him a living son.