Author's Note : Thanks for the constant and steady patience as I work on this story and upon others. RL has been well, RL and there's not much we can do about that. Is there? I'm sorry for the jumps between the past and the future. But I think I've finally resolved that. Unfortunately, that means an entire revision of this story. Which may mean more of a delay in updates. So, I hope you will bear with me as I try to figure this all out. Thank you all so much for your reviews and for sticking with me.
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Mary Stafford formerly Lady Carey formerly Boleyn sat outside, watching her children play under the trees in the distance. While alert to them and what they are doing, her thoughts were far away, recalling the past as the letter she'd just finished reading fell into her lap. Shattering her peace, memories of Court and all it entailed marred what had been a pleasant day.
Jane…the sister Anne had found to replace her.
No, not replace for they had never been close. She was grateful that her daughter Anne got along well with Cathy for that friendship would see them through tough times. Or so she hoped that they would enjoy the lifelong bond that had been denied her.
For Jane Seymour left a sour taste in her mind. It wasn't that she didn't like the other woman but, being of a simple mind, Mary liked to have things clearly defined. The truth was, well, she didn't quite know what to make of Jane even after all of these years.
Unlike her siblings, she preferred to have everything clearly defined. While she would support the King as Head of the Church, she missed the clarity of the old religion. Even though they tried to define the Church of England, there were too many gaps and blended lines in it for her comfort.
One never knew for sure what was right – and what would be considered treasonous. What one day was sanctioned as good often was found to be an incorrect practice the next. Without warning, many who thought they were doing what the ministers taught them found that it was not so.
It was not the most comfortable way to live and Mary wondered how Jane did it.
Of course, she might be in the same pile as Mary was. She knew most considered her to be to stupid to know any better. Sometimes, especially in the vacillating air of English politics, ignorance truly was the only safety net one had to cling to. It was something she knew how to play up to – and play up to well. It was truly amazing how often men fell for it.
Being the sister of the Queen could only offer so much protection after all, especially when you married in secret a man far below the proper station.
A shadow fell over her, interrupting her thoughts. Looking up, a frown marred her pretty face as she recognized the man. "What are you doing here?"
"Trying to get word of my sister," he replied, sitting down without an invitation to do so. "I heard she was ill."
Mary slid over. Not only was she trying to keep a respectable space between them but she'd never felt comfortable around Edward Seymour. "Why do you care? You as well as buried your sister when she refused to cut Anne out of her life."
"That is a foul rumor," he retorted icily.
"Which you have done nothing to dispel," her reply was quick and tart. She wondered where her husband was. He usually came home at this time, though perhaps there was nothing he could do against a man such as Edward Seymour save evict him from the premises. Even then, she wondered if he could. For Seymour had a higher rank, one that would be recognized over a sir. "I hardly think you have the right to claim family loyalty and concern over Jane."
"And you do?" he sneered. "Look at your home. At your children who aren't properly fed or dressed in the manner that they should be because the King and your sister are ashamed of your husband."
She flushed with anger. There was no way she could deny his words about the embarrassment her marriage had caused. Her own thoughts had spoken of such things. Nor could she argue that they had no need of a more substantial income, though she'd learned from her mother-in-law to budget better.
But his words stung her pride. What she had, she was proud to call her own. As she once said, she'd rather marry a man who loved her and wouldn't forsake her than a king and all that he could promise. "What makes it any business of yours anyway?"
"I think the both of us have suffered under the current regime enough," he stated.
"My children are safe and happy," Mary quickly interrupted. It was eerie how easily she could read the direction his thoughts were going in – and scary at how close she was coming to agreeing with him. She would not do that to her sister, even if Anne had turned her back upon her. "And I am happy. To my mind, that makes up for the suffering we once endured."
Edward's smile revealed his pity for her. "Don't lie to me, Lady Mary. I know how close your family was to each other until this schism occurred. I lost my sister – and you lost your family. It would be to your advantage to partner up with me."
"Why would I betray my sister for you?" she asked. "Even for prestige and money? Neither lasts very long in a world grown cold and empty without friends."
"Did not your sister betray you first?" he asked, rising to his feet. "Think about it, I'll see you around."
Even before he disappeared, her husband appeared at her side. "Who was that? A messenger from the Court?" he curiously questioned, a sound of cautious hope in his voice. As much as he didn't like Court life, he knew that Mary missed it. That she missed being with her family. For her sake, he would be glad to put up with the hypocrisy and danger that was the Court.
She looked up at him, a shadowed smile on her face. "Hardly, that was Edward Seymour. I'm not exactly sure what he wanted – and it scares me to know that he'll be back."
William Stafford sat beside her, a frown on his own face. His wife was not prone to nameless, faceless worries and fears. And he knew something of this man, though not as much as he'd heard of Thomas. The head of the Seymour household, he'd done his best to destroy all evidence of Jane's existence – and the strong Catholic ties of the family.
An adept, political player, once one of the Emperor Charles' right hand confidants. For most of his young career, he'd been in the European Court, gathering power and allies. With his sharp intellect, he had been valuable to those he cultivated. He'd only fallen from grace when his own ties to Luther's religion had been revealed.
Of course, that fall might've been caused by the dissolution of his first marriage because his wife had an affair – with his own father. Such a thing was shocking, unheard of – and the scandal had caused him to have sympathy, but no real way to deal with it so long as he stayed overseas.
"Why would he be back?" he asked, wrapping an arm comfortingly around her.
"I think he wishes to make Anne suffer – and he wants my help doing it," she added. "He seems to think that I've suffered at her hands just because I've been banished from Court."
His smile was sad, "Because of me."
Mary's smile was open, loving. "I'd rather have you than Court life."
