Chapter II

May, 1532

A month had gone by smoothly. Mary had soon adjusted herself to be a country wife, and life in Westhorpe Hall went like clockwork.

Mrs Fitzgerald proved to be extremely helpful.

"You don't have to worry a soul about housework," she told Mary when she arrived. "Leave it all to me, and I will take charge of the servants and maids as I always do. Unfortunately, His Grace wasn't awarded the wardships of many nobles. You have a companion in Lady Catharine Willoughby, the daughter of the Princess Dowager's good friend, Maria de Salinas."

"She is more of a guest than a ward," Charles commented. "Lady Catharine is three years younger than you, and a charming girl. Her mother swapped her guardianship of Lady Catharine to remain with your mother in banishment. I was given custody of Lady Catharine."

Mary nodded in understanding.

"Have you arranged a match for her?" she asked.

"Not yet," replied Charles. "Your father pressured me to marry her a month after your Aunt Mary died, but I refused. She doesn't deserve a commoner like me. I want her to marry well, or for love. I don't want her forced to marry a man that only wanted her wealth and titles. I'm sure you know that Lady Catharine is the only daughter and heiress of William Willoughby, 11th Baron Willoughby de Eresby. Her husband will be extremely rich after marrying her. I now hope that you can find an eligible husband for her. A man that your mother and Maria de Salinas will approve of. My other ward is Sir William Compton's nephew, Richard Compton, 1st Baron de Compton. He is a year younger than you. You might find him knowledgeable about the King's movements."

When Mary first saw Westhorpe Hall, she liked it at once. It was a large mansion made of brick, with a cosy atmosphere about it. The gardens were well-tended to, and the flowers flourished under the hard-working gardeners. The orchards were abundant and remarkably clean compared to the royal orchards that weren't cared for as much.

Mary could imagine her own children running and laughing in the gardens.

It was a lovely thought she hoped would project to reality.

"Wouldn't be wonderful?" sighed Mary, on one sunny day. "If we have our own children and they're running all around the gardens? It's a sight that I only see in my dreams and thoughts. Wouldn't you love to hold your own son or daughter?"

"It'll be perfect," agreed Charles. "Is there any signs yet? Ask Mrs Fitzgerald if you feel ill. I'm sure she'll know symptoms of pregnancy, even though she never had a child of her own!"

Mary touched her stomach wonderingly.

Could she possibly be with child already?

"Will you care if it's a girl or boy?" Mary said, worried.

"It doesn't matter," said Charles, picking up a rose. "I hope we have a daughter first. That way we can name her after your mother, whether she likes it or not. A son would be good too. Henry VIII will regret the day he declared you a bastard! Anyway, Chapuys will be visiting us today or tomorrow. He has the dispensation from the Pope. He received it from Reginald Pole, who's still in Italy. He's on thin ice with Henry VIII and can't return at the moment. Hopefully the rift between them won't widen. It might lead to unpleasant matters you can easily predict."

"The entire Pole family might be executed," Mary murmured. "Poor Lady Salisbury! My father will make up some excuse to kill them all, just because Lady Salisbury was a Plantagenet Princess, and technically speaking, they have more claim to the Throne than me!"

"They'll never betray you. The Poles are a good, Catholic family."

"I know. I hope Lady Salisbury remains neutral."

"She will. I have news from the King."

"What is it?"

"He will be crowning Anne Queen of England in a week's time, and expects to see me there. He made no mention of you. I was given the letter yesterday, but it slipped my mind. Will you manage alright here by yourself for a few days? I promise I won't stay away from you for long. That's the last thing I want. I missed female company for too long, and forgot how beautiful Westhorpe Hall is. You'll have Catharine, Richard and Mrs Fitzgerald for company though."

"Very well. When will you leave?"

"The King requested for me to be there before the coronation. I am to leave at once. I'm sorry Mary, but I have to obey the King if I want my head and body intact."

"I understand. Write back to me, will you? I will be waiting for you everyday we're separated. I hope you won't anger the King."

"You rarely call him 'my father' anymore?"

"He hasn't written or sent word for me since our marriage."

Charles kissed Mary and ordered for his bags to be packed and his horse saddled. He loved Mary more than ever (even though they were married for only a month), and wanted to see if she was truly with child or not. The last thing he wanted was to return to a Catherine-of-Aragon-empty Court. Outwardly, he supported Henry VIII in most of his decisions, but secretly, he wished Henry VIII was less selfish and proud, and more considerate to others, not only to his own desires.

Mary hoped Charles would be back soon.

Three months had passed, and there was no sign of Charles at Westhorpe Hall. Mary's thoughts were mixed with apprehension, uncertainty and worry.

"He'll be back soon," Mrs Fitzgerald assured her.

"I thought he would be gone for at least a few weeks," Mary said worriedly. "I didn't expect him to still be at Court this long. It's been three months. Westhorpe Hall is lovely, Mrs Fitzgerald, but I really have no one else to talk to, and I wish I can make myself useful instead of sitting around and allowing you to do all the hard work!"

"You're the Duchess of Suffolk!" exclaimed Mrs Fitzgerald. "It'll be scandal if I allow you to help cook or fold blankets! Why not call on Sir Thomas More? I heard that he wanted to see you and Charles. Oh, the Spanish Ambassador is here to see you."

Mary met Chapuys in the gardens.

"Princess Mary," greeted Chapuys.

"Excellency," said Mary happily. "I haven't seen you in months! Please, sit! You must tell me what is happening at Court, and how my mother is."

"I'm glad you're satisfied at your marriage," said Chapuys pleasantly. "Of course I would've preferred it if you married a Spanish or Portuguese Infante, but if you're happy, I'm happy. Court is more unpleasant without the presence of your mother. The King is infatuated still with the Whore, and there's been talk of presenting her to Francis I of France as his wife and Queen. The Boleyns and Howards are rising in Court, and have been showered with titles, lands and possessions by the King. Fortunately, Charles V is against the King's break from Rome and marriage with the Whore. Following his lead, John III of Portugal refused to support the King as well! Your mother has powerful relatives, dear Princess! The King is trying to convince Francis I to side with him against the Pope and acknowledge the Whore as his wife! You can never trust the French!"

"Is she with child?"

"Not yet. Thank the Lord for that! Are you with child? You and the 1st Duke of Suffolk have been married for three months, so is there any sign of pregnancy? It is important. Your husband is being held at Court by the King and wouldn't be allowed to return to you unless there is absolute certainty whether you're with child or not. That is the Whore's request."

"Keep this between us. Lie to the King if you have to! I must have Charles back! Yes, I am with child, but please don't let the King know that! He'll kill Charles!"

"I understand. When will you deliver the child?"

"January next year. I will go into confinement in December. My first baby will be a Winter child. Help us, Chapuys. I don't want my child to be fatherless."

"I see that you have grown quite attached to the 1st Duke of Suffolk. Of course I will help you. Your mother will be pleased at you. I will report to the King and the Whore, that you are not with child, and the physicians have said that you won't be able to have children due to your young age. I will do everything to assist you. Perhaps when you are more obvious with child, you should go to Spain? I'm sure the King will be relieved and will allow you to go to Spain."

"I will. How's my mother?"

"Your saintly mother suffers in Kimbolten Castle. At least she has Maria de Salinas for company. Sir Thomas More visits often, as do I."

"I'm pleased that you see my mother and keep her best interests at heart. She has no better friend than you. How is Lady Salisbury? Has she returned to Court?"

"No. The King did not wish to see her."

"She has Plantagenet blood, is a supporter of my mother and a Catholic. She has the factors that the King hates at the moment. She's wise and knows when she's not wanted. Will my mother want me to go to Spain and have my child there?"

"I'm sure she'll be pleased for her first grandchild to be born in Spain like she was. I must return to Court at once, to report to the King. He is waiting to know if you're pregnant or not. Of course I'll tell him that you're not with child. The King does not need to know just yet. Nor does the Whore. I don't want you to be poisoned by the Whore's relatives and servants. The Whore will already be sent to Hell once she dies, for replacing your dear mother. I hope she suffers on Earth too. I will make sure your husband is returned to you as quickly as possible."

"Thank you, Chapuys."

Chapuys stood up and bowed. As his eyes met Mary's gaze, he was reminded strongly that Mary was every inch Catherine's daughter.

Court felt like a prison to Charles. It was no longer the enjoyable, pleasurable place he had thought it was a year ago.

He was now an unarrested prisoner.

Henry VIII was determined to keep him busy and away from Westhorpe Hall. Almost everyday for three months, there were jousting tournaments, tennis matches, royal hunts, masque balls…the late Henry VII would be horrified at the rate Henry VIII squandered his money away. Charles was called to accompany the King in all the events as he did before he married Mary. The only difference was that it was Anne at his other side, instead of Charles's first wife, the late Princess Mary.

Charles wistfully wanted to return to Westhorpe Hall.

"Your Grace," said Wiltshire, casually standing next to Charles. "I don't believe we had a proper conversation yet, do you?"

"We never did," agreed Charles half-heartedly. "You were always on diplomatic missions in France, while I was accompanying the King in Court. Congratulations on your daughter's marriage to the King. I meant to tell you that earlier, but we never had the opportunity to talk."

"Yes, thank you. It is an honour to be related to the King."

"Yes, it is."

"I believe we're now family?"

"In a way, yes."

"That's right. The King was your brother-in-law when you married the late Princess Mary Tudor. Now, I understand you are the King's son-in-law? If I remembered correctly, your wife, the Lady Mary, was betrothed to my son, before you married her."

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry about that. If compensation is needed-"

"No, no! Do not worry about it! My son is only a Viscount at the moment, but opportunities will rise once a royal Prince arrives in the nursery! It is good of you to marry the Lady Mary. My son doesn't deserve her one little bit."

Charles raised his eyebrows. Something fishy was up. Wiltshire would never talk pleasantly to him under any circumstances unless he wants something.

"Perhaps we can be…friends?" suggested Wiltshire. "Just the two of us? I promise you that my brother-in-law, Norfolk, won't have to know about it. Our friendship can have advantages to both you and me. I'm sure it's a desirable offer. The Lady Mary must be devastated at the loss of her title. Perhaps the both of us can help her out?"

"What do you mean?" said Charles suspiciously. "When do you want to help others?"

"When did I want to be treated like a bloody servant for Norfolk? Yes, I married his sister Elizabeth in an alliance between the Howards and Boleyns and I have ambitions, but which one of us had the most gain once Anne became Queen? You were here. Did I improve from my rank as Earl? Did my Mary and George marry well? Did any Boleyn profit from it? No. Only Norfolk and his bloody Howard family. His daughter married the King's bastard son!"

"Why do you want to help my wife? You'll rather side with her than with your own daughter? Why? Do you think there's nothing to gain from helping your family that you rather help the daughter of the discarded Queen that you helped orchestrate her downfall? Thanks to you, my wife is banned from her rightful place in Court and hidden away in the countryside!"

"You're right. You have no reason-"

"Now I'm physically here when I'm mentally in Westhorpe!"

"What do you want, Charles Brandon? You aren't the womanising man I thought you were. You've changed into a different man. I swear to you that I'll help you achieve three goals. Any goals you want. If I do, will you be my ally?"

"Are you suggesting that I give you some sort of test to prove your loyalty? What if this is some trick that you and Norfolk schemed up?"

Wiltshire nodded slowly.

"I have a young cousin," he said thoughtfully. "He's ten. His name is Lord John Sackville. Perhaps he will be your ward if you doubt me so much?"

"Maybe," Charles dismissively. "I must discuss it with my wife. If you want me to be your ally, convince the King to allow me to return to Westhorpe Hall as quickly as possible. Even if I don't become your ally, I will still remember you in good light. I will not view you as an ally, but a friend. Unless you agree, I will bid you good day."

He turned to leave.

"Wait," said Wiltshire quietly. "I'll help you. I'll get you out of Court."

Charles nodded at him and left, wondering if he made the right decision. Mary wouldn't approve of him making a friend out of Thomas Boleyn, but he could be helpful when the time is right. Not all Howards are cold and cruel-hearted.

That was only Norfolk.

At supper time, Charles picked at his food, unable to eat. He barely touched his ale. What if Norfolk poisoned it earlier on?

"Chapuys!" called Henry VIII. "How was Westhorpe Hall? Pray tell me. Is the Duchess of Suffolk with child or not? We can all be relieved when you tell us! I'm excited with anticipation! Forget all formalities and tell me the news!"

Anne leant forward eagerly.

Charles wondered if Mary was with child. She hadn't mentioned it in any letter…

"No, Your Majesty," said Chapuys calmly. "The Duchess of Suffolk is not with child. I talked to the local physician and he assured me that she is not pregnant."

"Wonderful news!" declared Henry VIII, raising his goblet. "A health unto Her Majesty! The Duchess of Suffolk is infertile as the fruit of an unlawful marriage! May Queen Anne be blessed with fertility and for her to give me plenty of sons, while the Duchess of Suffolk languishes in childlessness! My apologies, Charles, but I'm sure you understand the dangers of a threat to the Throne, even if it's through a bastard girl! To Queen Anne!"

Charles forced himself to remain in check and raise his goblet.

Cheers echoed through the feasting hall from the Howard faction.

Charles noticed that Wiltshire had kept his goblet on the table and wasn't cheering.

Perhaps he's a truthful man, he thought. Maybe I doubted him and he is a good ally to have. I'll wait and see how fast he can get me back to Westhorpe Hall, and then I'll have a talk with Mary.

"Thank you dear husband," said Anne in a sickly sweet voice. "I hope I will please you by bearing you

and England many Princes and Princesses. It's early days still."

"Yes," agreed Henry VIII, gazing into her pure black eyes. "Early days…"

Charles couldn't believe that Henry VIII would wish his daughter bad luck in marriage! It was fucking unbelievable! He was so self-centred that he didn't want him to have any children either! For a minute, he was so angry that if any other claimant to the Throne was looking for supporters, he would volunteer to slay the King himself!

"What say you, Charles?" said Henry VIII expectedly. "Will you do the Queen and I the honour of being godfather to our first child if it's a girl? If it's a boy, we're hoping that the French Ambassador will do it on behalf of Francis I."

"Yes, Your Majesty," said Charles, forcing himself to smile.

Anne sat back, satisfied.

I will make you pay for this, Anne Boleyn, thought Charles angrily. You traumatised my Mary and now humiliate me! I will not overlook this!

"What do you want?" said Henry VIII, glancing up and seeing Wiltshire hovering at the door. "I thought I told you to go and make yourself useful elsewhere!"

"I've been thinking," said Wiltshire carefully.

"You think too much."

"It's about the Duchess of Suffolk. I'm concerned that she might be plotting something while she's in Westhorpe Hall, all by herself. It's been three months and we haven't heard about or from her. Maybe it'll be a good idea to send Charles back? I know you're determined to keep him here until the Queen gives birth to a child, but every minute he's here, the Duchess of Suffolk could be planning something dangerous that might include disposing yourself and allowing the Holy Roman Emperor to invade. With Charles there, he can control the Lady Mary. To avoid having children, all he has to do is sleep in a different room. To satisfy his ah, manly desires, give him a prostitute. If you'd like, I can visit and see if he's following your orders from time to time."

"What an excellent idea, Wiltshire! Go and tell Charles the news at once! I should've thought about this earlier! Yes, I'd like you to see them from time to time and report back to me on what they're doing. Please leave! I have paperwork to do."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

With a bow, Wiltshire left.

He went to see Charles at once.

"You're to go back to Westhorpe immediately!" said Wiltshire, once Charles opened the door. "The King wants you to leave!"

"Really?" said Charles, surprised. "How did you manage that?"

"I told the King that Mary's dangerous," said Wiltshire, pleased with himself. "Without you, she could be up to no good. What do you think, Suffolk? I keep my promises. Do you trust me now? I guess not. You're still looking at me suspiciously. Oh yes, you need to confirm with your Mary about an alliance with me. I'll be waiting for a reply."

Charles nodded gratefully.

"I'll go at once," he decided.

Wiltshire shook hands with him and departed.

"Talking to a Boleyn?" said Chapuys disapprovingly, lurking at the door. "Mary will not be pleased. She will not be happy at all. If you want an alliance with the Boleyns, you have a double package. The Howards are tied to the Boleyns. You should be preparing yourself to be a father. I lied to the King for the safety of both you and Mary. I did out of love for her and Catherine. I come to tell you the good news that Mary is pregnant with your child, just to find that you're soliciting with a Boleyn. I will not hesitate to tell Mary what you are doing here."

"Chapuys," said Charles uncomfortably. "Eustace! My old friend…"

"What are you up to?" said Chapuys, watching him like a hawk. "Planning to betray Mary? Perhaps it would've been better if Mary married George Boleyn rather than you. At least with George Boleyn, we all know his wicked purposes. As for you, I don't know if you're trustworthy after all. You seemed to be an honest and good man when you first approached her, but now…hmm. I wonder what Queen Catherine would think of you now."

"Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"I believe in honour and truth. I'm not like that grovelling French Ambassador, whose mouth's full of false words and lies. I only lie for love and belief. I do not blackmail people."

"Then what's your point? If you aren't planning to blackmail me, then what do you want? I promised Mary that I will never keep secrets from her. When I return to Westhorpe Hall, I will tell everything to her, I promise! I never wanted to hide anything from her!"

"Do you swear your life by that?"

"Yes! I do!"

Chapuys nodded and seemed less bird-like to Charles's relief. He handed a small Ruby ring to Charles wordlessly. Charles looked at it and then at him, confused.

"Mary will understand," said Chapuys softly.

Thanks for the great reviews for the first chapter! Here's the next one! Please review! :)