Chapter VII
May, 1537
"Mary!" said Charles, bursting into their chambers in Westhorpe Hall. "We are called to Court! We are expected to be there tonight!"
"Why?" said Mary, looking up from her embroidery.
"Anne will be accused of high treason," said Charles grimly. "She's miscarried a son, and Henry VIII took it as a sign that his marriage to her is cursed. He's tired of her. What will you do now? You will be an important witness in this whole incident. Will you extract revenge on Anne and convict her of treason, like the other Catholic nobles, or will you be sympathetic to her and allow her to live? Your choice will influence the King greatly."
So the time has come, thought Mary. I promised I will help her keep her head, and now she finally tastes her own medicine of being a discarded wife! I will let her live, but perhaps as a nun. She might learn a thing or two from the nunnery.
"Oh, when will we show the King our other children?" said Charles uneasily.
"I have a plan," said Mary thoughtfully. "Involving them."
"You won't use them as bait, will you?"
"Not exactly. At the moment, the King wants Anne out of the picture. He wants her dead. Don't you think that is a little too cruel for the mother of two of his daughters? I know Elizabeth and Eleanor are possible threats to me, but it seems that everyone accepts us as the King's successors. If Anne had a son, it would be a different story."
"Alright. I support you in any decision you make. What about Katharine? She is four years old and misses us. She has began her lessons, and we hardly see her. My cousins ask if we can take her and Charlie back. They're having financial trouble. I told them that we will in a couple of days. Do you want me to go and fetch them before we go to Court? They even sent a small portrait of Katharine and Charlie together, I will show it to you once we arrive."
"Thank you for the trust. Chapuys will hate me for this."
"He won't. He's a man of compassion."
"A man of truth."
Mary and Charles were silent for a minute. Quietly, they ordered their bags packed and the carriage to be ready. Mrs Fitzgerald promised her care for Westhorpe Hall and the children. The nursery had expanded, and Westhorpe Hall was more alive with the sound of children. A year after the twins were born, Mary had given birth to another daughter (Isabella 'Bella' Eleanor), to the disappointment of Henry VIII and to the delight of others. In Henry VIII's mind, Mary and Charles now only had one son and two daughters. He hadn't even bothered to remember his granddaughters' names. In his mind, only sons were worth looking and caring for, while daughters are pointless.
"Are you sure you are well enough to travel?" said Charles, concerned. "You're with child (again), and I don't want you to give birth and possibly die on the way to Court. I'm sure the King will understand the your crucial state at the moment."
"He won't," said Mary bitterly, sitting next to him in the carriage.
"He's your father."
"He's a ruthless monarch first, a father second. We have to be careful, Charles. He might use our children as pawns in his political moves. I do not wish that. I want our children to marry for love. Even if they marry commoners, I don't care. As long as they truly love each other, I'll be happy. What about you Charles? Love or politics?"
"Well, I have no say in that matter! I was born a commoner, and was never taught the advantages a political marriage can bring. I only know the troubles it can cause if a royal Prince or Princess marries for love to a nobody. I learnt it the hard way."
"My aunt. You never said anything about your marriage with her."
"It only lasted around a year."
"What happened? You never spoke about her."
Charles fidgeted with a coin, not knowing what to say. He loved and trusted Mary, but how could he talk about his first beloved wife, Mary's own fiery-tempered aunt and namesake? How could he tell her the love they had between them, and the delight he was showered with when she discovered she was pregnant? How could he face the memories of her death again?
"Charles?" said Mary anxiously. "Are you alright?"
"You're just like her," said Charles, choking back tears. "Same eyes, both stubborn in nature. Both treated to the untrustworthy nature of Henry VIII. Both of you have my love and changed me. You could've passed off as our daughter, or your Aunt Mary's younger sister. Apart from obvious differences, there is one thing that separates the both of you. She died giving birth to our child. She suffered, and endured so much pain. It was a year after your birth, and the King and I were given the choice of either saving your aunt, or saving the child. Your aunt was having a difficult birth, and wanting at least a nephew, the King ordered for the physicians to save the child. I couldn't do anything to stop it. At the end, I lost both my wife and my young son. They died hours after each other."
"I'm so sorry," said Mary, wiping his tears away with her handkerchief. "What did you name your son, before he died? Did you hate the King for all that?"
Suddenly, Charles's visions blurred…
"Every woman has to go through this," whispered Mary of Suffolk, slightly paler than usual. "Charles, it will soon be over and tonight, we'll be toasting to our new child."
"I'll wait for you outside," promised Charles, grasping her hand. "I won't leave you again."
He kissed her forehead and went outside, as customary for a husband during his wife's child-labouring hours. Henry VIII was waiting outside already.
"Catherine is praying for Mary and your child," he informed him. "She hopes that your child will be good friends with our darling Mary in the future. Of course they'll be cousins, but if my Pearl has no siblings, she might be lonely by herself."
Charles nodded nervously.
A few minutes later, Mary of Suffolk's screams pierced the air like a sword at an enemy.
Charles winced, forcing himself to think of the future child.
Hours passed, and the cries of pain continued, with no sound of a triumphant mother who won a victory and was gifted with a child. Charles never cared about the gender of the child, and now, more than ever, he wanted his wife to live more than the child.
"Your Majesty," said a physician, bowing. "Your Grace. I have unfortunate news for you. Her Grace is having a difficult labour, and there's only one option. Would you rather the survival of the Duchess or the life of her child? I'm confident that with the correct equipment and skills, one of them can be saved and will live, while the other dies."
"The child," spoke the King. "Make the child live."
Charles stared at him, horrified.
How could he speak the death of his younger sister with such coldness? He had orally signed the death warrant for his sweet sister!
The next few hours were like a living nightmare. The physicians surgically removed the baby from Mary of Suffolk's womb, and it wasn't long before she succumbed to childbirth fever, due to the infections she received from the unclean knives and severe loss of blood. The child-a son-was weak, pale and small. It was doubted he would live past infancy to adulthood. There was even lesser chance that Mary of Suffolk would survive and have another child. Charles vowed to himself that if his wife lived and their child died, he will never impregnate his wife again.
For a lusty, potent man, that would be a difficult promise to keep.
Another couple of hours past, and the screaming had ceased.
Charles stared at the door, full of apprehension and fear.
A pathetic wail rose in the air.
Without waiting for the midwives or physicians, Charles went straight into his wife's chambers, not knowing what to expect.
"Charles…" said Mary of Suffolk weakly, reaching out for him with her deathly pale hand. "Where are you? I can't see you…all I can see are spots of black and red. What's happening? I've given birth to a boy…our dear son, are you happy with me? You have a male heir…is the King here? Where's my brother? I can't tell if he's here. He now has an English nephew. Oh, I feel so tired! So cold! Can you ask the maids to light a fire? Are the windows shut? I never felt so cold before! Have you held your son yet, Charles? I think he is crying for you."
"Sister," said Henry VIII warmly. "You have a son! Charles, you must be proud!"
"Mary," said Charles, focusing on his wife. "Your pulse is fading. Oh, dear God! DR LINACRE! Where one earth are those physicians when you need them?! DR LINACRE! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE NOW! I CAN'T FEEL A FUCKING A PULSE!"
"Charles…" said Mary of Suffolk, tears streaming from her eyes. "I'm scared…I don't want to leave you and go…don't abandon our son. He needs his father now that I'm…joining God. Please, don't leave him with his governess and the servants. I'm afraid…why is the room getting dimmer?"
"What will you name our son?" said Charles, holding her hand tighter.
"I feel tired…"
"A name! Please Mary! What will you name our son?!"
"I promised the Almighty that I will name our first daughter after the Virgin Mary. If a son, I will name him after a great man of religion. With your consent, I call our child 'Charles Joseph Christian Brandon', after you, the Almighty's father and the faith we follow…"
As Charles held his wife's hand until an expression of peace passed her face, he knew that his son will join his mother very shortly…
"We've arrived," said Mary, gently shaking his shoulder. "You must've dozed off. It's a little late, so I sent a messenger to tell the King we will arrive at Court tomorrow."
"I was so tired," mumbled Charles, rubbing his eyes.
Mary nodded understandingly and walked out with him.
Before Mary could apologise for mentioning his first wife earlier on, the door of a reasonably well cottage flew open, and she found a small figure with lustrous auburn hair clinging to her skirts. She looked down and saw it was her daughter, Katharine.
"Mamma!" Katharine said happily. "I miss you! Charlie misses you too! Uncle John said you will come and visit us today! Will we go to Court? He said that as the children of the Prince and Princess of Wales, our place is at Court with the other royal children rather than in the country! I love it here, but I wish I can see you more often!"
"I miss you too," said Mary, picking up her daughter. "My! You've grown!"
Katharine beamed at Charles, her deep blue eyes sparkling like jewels.
Mary looked at Katharine closely.
Katharine had inherited the Trastamaran auburn hair and beautiful blue eyes. Her hair curled at the tips and bounced on her shoulders. As a young child, she wasn't required to wear the traditional hoods, and Mary knew she would be sorry to see her daughter's hair hidden under a hood when she is older. For now, she will enjoy admiring her daughter the most she can. She knew that Sir John Brandon and his wife (Lady Alice Brookes) were relatively poor for members of the gentry, and they lost more money taking care of their young cousins, Katharine and Charlie. Mary reminded herself to recommend both Sir John and his wife to Court later in the year.
"Be careful," said Charles, taking Katharine from Mary. "Your mamma will be having a baby, and you will have another sister or brother. You don't want to hurt him or her, now do you? That's a good girl. Did you know that you have two more sisters and another brother?"
"Another Charlie?" said Katharine, a little disappointed.
"He's called Harry!" said Charles, with a small laugh. "He is only two years old!"
"What about my sisters?"
"Well, Mimi (she's named 'Mary', after your mamma) is Harry's twin, and is also two years old. I'm sure you two will get along fine, playing with your dolls. Your other sister is Bella (her name's 'Isabella'), and she is still a baby. Do you want mamma to have a baby boy or girl?"
"Girl! I don't want another brother! Brothers take all the attention, and grandmamma wasn't allowed to
be Queen because she didn't have a son. I want a sister, not a brother. Charlie is alright."
"You haven't even met Harry yet!"
"I suppose I should meet him first! Here is Charlie! Charlie! Say hello to papa and mamma! They're finally here! Do you remember them?"
Staring at Charles and Mary with his wide, brown eyes, was Charlie.
"Hello Charlie," said Charles, taking a good look at his eldest son. "You look well! Where's your Uncle John? We have to talk about you and Katharine!"
"Cousin!" said Sir John, emerging from his cottage, a smile on his face. "It's good to sea you again! Your children have been a delight to look after! I'm glad you have Sir Thomas More as a good friend! He offered to tutor Katharine and Charlie for free. What kind of worldly scholars would do that? Unfortunately, he isn't here at the moment, as he was called to Court. I suppose you and the Princess Mary will be heading to Court as well?"
"Hello John," said Charles warmly. "This is my wife, Princess Mary."
"A pleasure to see you, dear Princess. You are lucky to have Charles as your husband."
"She is a lovely wife. How are you and Lady Alice?"
"Very well! Alice is pregnant with our second child! Our first was called to God's side, but we are confident that the second will live and be as healthy as your own children. Now, about the funds to look after your children-"
"I will give it to you immediately. If you like, I can put in a good word for you and Alice, and after her confinement, I'm sure the both of you will be welcomed in Court as a companion to the King and one of the Queen's Ladies-in-waiting. If Alice doesn't fill the requirements of a Queen's Ladies-in-waiting, I'm sure she can be one of Mary's."
"Will the King accept us?"
"Of course! He's always on the look out for new courtiers!"
"Thank you!"
"Would it be alright if we come here in a couple of days?" inquired Mary. "Like Charles said, I am willing to ask the King for places in Court for you and Alice. I'll give you a thousand pounds for your troubles, and you will have five hundred for an annuity when you work in Court."
"Yes, Your Highness," said Sir John, bowing at her. "I'm sure Alice and I can live upon a thousand pounds for at least a year with a simple lifestyle. Your dear children are a pleasure to have around the house. Your Katharine has even taken a liking to help Alice with housework. Charlie wants to help me with the stables and the horses, but he's still a young boy. Your Highness, have you thought of marriage prospects for your two angels? Are you aware that as their grandfather, the King will have an interest in their matches, and will no doubtfully arrange for them to marry men suited to his advantages? I am just a lowly knight, but I know he won't care about their love."
"They will not marry for political advantages."
"Is the King aware of this?"
"Of course not! He doesn't even know that Katharine and Charlie are alive. He thinks Charles and I have only three children. Harry, Mimi and Bella. Tomorrow, we'll prove him wrong. Well, Charles will be here until tomorrow. I'll have to go tonight."
"It will be late when you go to Court. Maybe you should stay here tonight too. There's enough room in the cottage for you to stay."
"I have to go. The King is waiting for me."
"Very well. Will you take the children?"
"Yes. Will it be alright if you prepare a basket of food for us? I can last a whole trip without food, but I don't think the children will."
"What are you doing?" whispered Charles, as Sir John went back inside with the children. "I thought we've agreed that we'll go to Court tomorrow?"
"We can't risk angering the King," hissed Mary. "You can stay, but I have to go."
Charles nodded thoughtfully.
"I'll have to support Anne," said Mary worriedly. "I can't allow her to agree to divorce on the grounds of affinity. Yes, her sister had an affair with the King, but what if her children were Carey's? That would be an entirely different story! She has children, and I can't allow a mother to die on my conscience! Even if it will annoy the King, I have no choice."
Charles sighed.
He would've loved to see Anne squirm in terror as the executioner advances her with his axe, but he knew that what Mary said made sense.
The King was evil; Anne was not.
"My Pearl!" said Henry VIII heartily, as Mary entered the room. "Just the woman I wish to see! I need you to help me at the moment!"
"Is it to do with Queen Anne?" said Mary carefully.
"Lady Anne," said Henry VIII spitefully. "She is no Queen! I married a witch! She enchanted me to marry her with the bribe of sons! She is a barren hag who is disguised as a beautiful seductress! I will have no more of her tricks! As a witch, she can't be divorced. She will have to be put on trial and executed. With your help, it will guarantee her death! Just think! I am a perfectly fertile young man with every chance of having a son! My sister Margaret, had a son! Mary even had a son before she died! It's Anne's fault she cannot give me the son I wanted! Even you are capable of having sons! God has cursed me because my marriage with Anne is unlawful and she is a witch!"
"Of course as your daughter, I will aid you in anyway possible! However, in the case of Lady Anne, I must be presented with evidence that can reinforce her guilt. What will you do with her children after she is executed? They are your children as well as hers."
"They will be bastards and sent to the country with Norfolk."
"When will I have to decide my verdict?"
"Tomorrow at the most."
"Very well. Before we proceed, may I show you something? It may or may not please you. In a way, it is kind of like a gift."
Curiously, Henry VIII followed Mary to her chambers. The doors opened, and standing next to each other near Mary's bed were two young children, a boy and a girl. The auburn haired girl was obviously older than the dark brown haired boy, but by how much? A year? Two?
Katharine and Charlie.
"These are my other children," said Mary quietly. "Lady Katharine Charlotte Brandon and Lord Charles Edward Brandon. My eldest two children."
Henry VIII stared at them, speechless.
Katharine managed a wobbly curtsey while Charlie bowed slowly.
"Your eldest children?" murmured Henry VIII. "Mimi and Harry aren't your eldest?"
"No," replied Mary. "I had both Katharine and Charlie in Spain. I would've gave birth to them in England, but in fear of my life, I had them in Spain where they'd be safe. Kate (Katharine) is four and Charlie is three years old. They look like Tudors, don't they?"
"Yes," agreed Henry VIII, a little disappointed his technically eldest grandson wasn't named after him. "I think that Katharine inherited many features of her grandmother, Catherine of Aragon. Charlie looks more like your husband. That means your Charlie is the Earl of Lincoln, not Harry. I will provide the most educated scholars to teach your children. Now, there's the matter of religion. As the Head of the Church of England, they must be-"
"No. They will be raised with the Catholic faith."
"They're MY grandchildren."
"Once you rid yourself from Anne and marry Lady Jane, you will have a brood of sons and my children will not be needed anymore. I will raise my children in the Catholic faith, but they will respect and also read the English version of the Bible."
"I suppose that will compromise well. Two sons, Mary! You have two sons! Is there anything I can do for you? Is there anything you want?"
"As a matter of fact, there is. It regards Lady Anne and her children. Her children are also my younger half-sisters. As they're around the same age as my own daughters, why don't I raise them in the country with Charles? You know I am loyal to you, and will not conspire to replace you with them. I am your daughter, and I myself have a claim that you are well aware of. As one mother to another, I am a little tentative about signing Anne's death warrant."
"You won't be signing it. I will."
"Indeed, but the thought of committing her to death is quite shocking. If I was in Anne's position, I will not want to leave my children without a mother."
"I cannot allow a witch to remain in England! She will threaten the lives of everyone! Who knows? She might go to France and enchant Francis I! She will ruin France's little prosperity, and might ruin the fragile peace between our great kingdoms and destroy England!"
"What if you charge her on something less supernatural?"
"Like what?"
"Accuse her of speaking words against you, however you will spare her life because of you are a lenient King, and she is mother of two of your children. If Bessie Blount spoke against you, what would you do? Let her live because she had a son?"
Henry VIII frowned slightly.
"Very well," he said, a few minutes later. "I will divorce her and leave her and her children in your capable hands. Make sure she does not leave England, and is away from Court. Her daughters will be bastardised and be in your care. To prove your allegiance to me and not the Holy Roman Emperor, I want you to attend my wedding with Lady Jane as an honoured guest and greet her with open arms."
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