The Dudley Rose of England


February 1551. Princess Mary is married to the elder brother of the husband of Dowager Queen Katherine Howard. Doctor Rodrigo López confirms that Elizabeth is pregnant. Robert defeats George Howard at chess and Princess Elizabeth meets someone who has not been in England for nearly fifteen years.


Chapter VII: Princess Mary's Marriage

11th February 1551: Kimbolton Castle, Cambridgeshire

"My Lady? Henry Carey, Baron Hundson is here,"

Mary Tudor rose, to greet the newly ennobled, Henry Carey, who waved off Mary's ladies, so that he could speak to her alone. "Lady Mary,"

"Princess," she corrected him. By their father's will, she was still a Princess, even if she was in seclusion, in the country, in the building that killed her mother. Henry Carey waved it off. He glanced around for a moment "The Queen is willing to pardon you..." Mary perked up for a moment "On two conditions, one, you sever all contact with Spain, as you are English, not Spanish, and two, you allow the Queen to choose a husband for you,"

Mary got to her feet, and began to pace. "What if I do not agree to this?"

"Then, Lady Mary," Henry Carey began "The Queen may be forced to have you confined here permanently, and, she may have to execute you,"

Mary gasped, placing a hand to her chest. "Elizabeth is my sister. She wouldn't execute me,"

"If her council tell her that it is for the best, Lady Mary," Henry replied "Then she would, she is the Queen and has to do what is best for her family. However, if you sign this," he pulled out a scroll of parchment "and renounce Spain, and allow your sister to choose a husband for you, then I will be able to convince the Queen that you are not a threat to her, and I may be able to convince her to release you from house arrest. You have ten minutes to make your decision,"

Mary paced, before picking up a quill, some ink, and signing her signature on the bottom of the parchment. Henry Carey smiled, bowed to Mary and left.


12th February 1551: Whitehall Palace, England

"Your Majesty? The Queen is just over a month pregnant."

"Thank you, Dr López," Robert placed a bag of coins into the hands of Rodrigo López and López left the room as the Queen emerged. Robert moved forward to her, slipped an arm around her, and kissed her, deeply, on the lips. He moved around her so that he was behind her, and slipped both of his hands onto her stomach. "Our child," he began, rubbing his hands over her stomach in circular motions.

She leaned gently against him and nodded, smiling. Her eyes betrayed her happiness. Robert sighed "Great. Now, I'm going to have to find some other way to occupy myself until the birth of our son or daughter,"

"It has to be a son, Robin," Elizabeth replied "You know that."

Robert sighed "Oh, Bess, Bess, Bess. Even if we only have ten daughters, I will be happy, and the people have accepted you as Queen, they'll accept Bessie if we don't have a son,"

"But what if I die when she is still young?" Elizabeth asked, anxiously. Robert smiled "Then I will look after her. She is my daughter, after all. I will keep her safe, and I will be regent until she comes of age. My family will not influence me, Bess. My father wanted me to marry Lady Amy Robsart, the only legitimate child, and heiress, of Sir John Robsart, but I refused."

"You refused an heiress, even though your father demanded it?"

"Indeed I did, Bess," Robert replied, smiling "Indeed I did, and I don't regret it for one moment,"

Elizabeth laughed, and Robert soon joined in. A thought crossed Robert's mind. "Amy and I, despite not marrying, remain close friends. Master Fitzpatrick needs a wife, correct? Maybe we could marry Amy to him?"

"Master Fitzpatrick," Elizabeth began "Is betrothed to the Lady Joan Eustace,"

"A betrothal can be broken off, Bess. Lady Amy is older than Lady Joan is." Robert replied "Lady Joan is, after all, only twelve years old, while Lady Amy is Nineteen this year. He is not that much younger than her. He is sixteen years old, this year, Bess,"

"Maybe you're right." Elizabeth admitted "Maybe you're right."


13th February 1551: Whitehall Palace, England

Catherine Carey, Lady Knollys, ran through the hallways around the tennis arena. She was trying to run past two of the King's jesters who were doing back flips all the way down the hall. Catherine pushed open the door that led onto the room where the tennis match was being played. She noticed that George Howard, older brother to Dowager Queen Katherine Howard, was playing against The King, and a smile came to her lips. Forgetting for a moment of what she was supposed to be doing, she ran to her seat next to Kat Ashley. She was out of breath by the time she sat down. "Who's winning?" she whispered and Kat replied "The King". Catherine should have known. Robert Dudley was the most athletic man at court, not to mention the fact that he was tall, well built, had a slight layer of stubble around his chin, and was King Consort of England, Ireland and France. At this moment, he was playing against George Howard, who just happened to be the cousin of Queen Elizabeth's mother, Anne Boleyn and thus a cousin of Elizabeth too. He was always trying to advance himself and his family but the Queen, and the King, knowing that the Howard Family could easily be traitors, usually had none of it, especially after the attempted assassination of Elizabeth, by the Earl of Surrey.

Everyone clapped as Robert Dudley won points. Everyone was sure that he was definitely going to win. Robert looked towards Elizabeth and she smiled back at him.

Suddenly, Robert hit the winning point and everyone clapped enthusiastically. "Bravo!" yelled out Elizabeth as she clapped. "Bravo!" The two men walked towards her and Elizabeth hid a laugh at the expression on her cousin's face. He was sulking over his loss "You are a most worthy loser cousin. I commend you,"

"But a loser nonetheless," Robert cried, laughing a little as he picked up a white handkerchief off of his wife's lap. She smiled towards her husband.

"Your familiarity, with the Queen, is as offensive, as it is disrespectful, Sir" George informed Robert as he glanced to Elizabeth, who was on the verge of laughing because the two men in front of her, one of whom was her husband, were acting just like two little spoilt boys. Dudley cleaned his neck with the handkerchief and smiled.

"Your need is greater than mine I fancy," Laughed Robert as he held out the handkerchief for George to take. "It is damp but it still serves."

George looked towards Dudley and smacked the handkerchief back onto Elizabeth's lap "Next time it will be your swollen head that I aim for, Dudley." The councillors eyed George and the ladies gasped. This was not a wise thing to say in front of the Queen.

"Judging by your performance, your aim is nothing to boast of, Sir," Robert laughed back. All the ladies hid their giggles. They managed to subdue their laughter as Elizabeth looked to the two men.

George walked closer to Dudley and held his tennis racquet towards him. Elizabeth finally felt that enough was enough and that it had to be stopped. "George," Elizabeth got her cousin's attention and gave him a cold stare "I will not tolerate threats of violence in my presence. God's blood, it is but a game, now, shake hands and be done with it."

Robert held his hand out but George only hit the hand. He felt that Robert was unworthy of his position as King and was unworthy of his status as the husband of the Queen. It should have been him, not Dudley, who had married Elizabeth! He was from noble stock while Robert Dudley was descended from a long line of traitors. Elizabeth stood up. "If you think such behaviour finds favour with me, George, you are very much mistaken."

She got up, and left the room. Her ladies, led by Kat – who was the Queen's principle lady in waiting – all dropped curtseys to the King, and then followed the Queen. Robert locked eyes with Lady Mary MackWilliam for a few moments. She dropped another curtsey and left.


14th February 1551: Whitehall Palace, England

Princess Bessie gurgled as she caught sight on the woman looking over her. Her frame was delicate, approximately 5'3 inches tall, with finely formed, tapering fingers. She was smiling, had dark amber eyes, and long, dark brown hair. Despite never having seen this woman before, Princess Bessie did not feel frightened, as the woman had an air of kindness and seemed slightly familiar to her. The woman reached down to Princess Bessie, and picked her up, holding her close to her chest where Bessie snuggled down, and began to gurgle, quietly. A smile crossed the woman's face.

The door, to the hallway outside, thumped shut, and the woman looked up, anxiously. She had hoped for more time with Bessie

"I love you, Bessie," she whispered, to the baby as she placed Princess Bessie into the crib "I love you with all my heart and I bid you never forget it."

With a swirl of her dress, she was gone, as if she had never truly been there at all, for there was certainly no sign of her. On a tree outside, which was adorned with red and white flowers, sat a falcon. It cawed for a few moments, and took off into the air. In Princess Bessie's crib, a small, thin strip of silk, with the initials A.B. melted away, as if it too, like its owner, had never been there.

The door swung open, a few moments later. Elizabeth, with Robert right behind her, entered the room. Bessie noticed her mother and gave a shriek of delight as her mother lifted her high into the sky.

"Oh, my sweet, darling girl," Elizabeth held Bessie close to her, and sat in the chair nearby. Elizabeth began to bounce Bessie on her knee as Bessie gave shrieks of delight. Robert sat on the edge of the large four poster bed and gently took Bessie from his wife. Bessie pouted for a moment, but, when she realised that Robert was her father, she gave another shriek of delight and he began to bounce her on his knee. He kissed her forehead as he, momentarily, stopped bouncing her, and then continued bouncing her again.


15th February 1551: Whitehall Palace, England

Elizabeth sighed as she glanced over the parchment in front of her. Only a few people could marry her sister. The first was The Earl of Arran. The second was the Earl of Surrey, and the third was Thomas Culpeper, the brother-in-law of Dowager Queen Katherine Howard.

The Earl of Arran wouldn't do, as he was heir to the Scottish Throne, and thus, any children he and Mary had would be threats to England and Scotland. Not to mention the fact that he was already married.

The Earl of Surrey wouldn't do, as he was trapped in the tower, and would, after the death of his grandfather, be the Duke of Norfolk, which would make Mary a Duchess, and a threat.

So, it had to be the third. Thomas Culpeper, the older brother of Dowager Queen Katherine Howard's husband, Sir Thomas Culpeper, Viscount Culpeper. The elder brother had been ill when the younger had been born, and, since the elder had recovered, they both had the same name.

If Thomas did marry Mary, then he would have to be ennobled and made, at least, an Earl. That would be the only way that he would be suitable as the husband of the Queen's sister.

She picked up her pen and dipped it into the ink, before writing the name Thomas Culpeper below the suggestions of people followed by the word Earl. Then, she wrote her signature underneath and handed it to one of the nearby servants.


16th February 1551: Whitehall Palace, England

"Do you, Master Thomas, take this woman, Princess Mary Tudor to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you swear, on your solemn oath before all these witnesses, to love her, honour her and cherish her for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and to forsake all other women for her for the rest of your natural lives until death does you two part?" Edmund Grindal, the vicar in charge of the ceremony, asked Thomas.

"I do," Thomas replied, a complete look of disgust in his eyes; he certainly had no intention of foresaking other women for a wrinkled old hag.

"And do you, Princess Mary Tudor, take this man Master Thomas Culpeper, to be your lawfully wedded lord and husband? Do you swear, on your solemn oath before all these witnesses, to love him and cherish him and to honour and obey him for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and to forsake all other men for him for the rest of your natural lives until death does you two part" Edmund Grindal repeated the question to Mary.

"I do," Mary, like Thomas, had no feelings of love for her future husband.

After exchanging rings, Edmund Grindal spoke again "What God has joined in Holy Matrimony, let no man tear asunder. I now pronounce you man and wife. Your Grace, you may kiss the bride," Edmund Grindal make the sign of the cross over their head. Thomas readied himself. Leaning forward, and, lifting the veil out of Mary's face, he pressed his lips to hers. Elizabeth, Robert and Bessie, in the Queen's pew, rose, clapping, along with the rest of the crowd. Then, taking Mary's hand and slipping through the crook of his arm, Thomas led her down the chapel aisle and out into the Banqueting Hall at Whitehall for their wedding feast. He had done it. He had done his duty for his family, Queen and country, and now, he could leave the woman alone.

The celebrations, Mary noticed, went off without a hitch. She also noticed that all of the previous Catholic advisors had been replaced by Protestant advisors, or, if they had not been replaced, they had been forced to convert to Protestantism. That meant that heretics ruled the country... God help them...

She took a sip of her wine, and gulped. The wine tasted different than it usually did. Something clogged in her throat, she dropped the goblet, which fell to the floor with a bang, and placed her hands around her neck. She did not have time to ponder on her circumstances, as she fell, to the floor, with a loud thump. The rest of the crowd gasped, and Elizabeth rose in her throne.

But, it was too late. Whatever the physicians tried, to save Mary's life, would be in vain, for Mary was gone, two days before her thirty-fifth birthday...

Nearby, Cecil locked eyes with Sussex, and gave a small, hardly noticeable nod. Their work here was done. Elizabeth was safe on the throne, and the only remaining person, who posed a major threat, was a Scottish eight year old, who lived in France and was betrothed to the Dauphin of France, and would, in 1558, be married, as Mary would be sixteen, and in the prime of child bearing years... until that time came, The Queen of England was safe...

Unfortunately for Cecil, Francis Walsingham, Elizabeth's spy master, who was watching from nearby, had noticed the small exchange between the two men...


To Be Continued


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