Chapter X
June, 1538
Mary stood next to Jane's bed in her confinement room. It was against her wishes, but she genuinely liked Jane as a friend.
"I'm afraid," whispered Jane, as her pains started. "Does it hurt?"
"I'd like to say it doesn't," said Mary, patting her hand. "Unfortunately, it does. Just imagine the baby you will be holding. The first time is the worst. In a way, it becomes less painful, if it helps at all. I'll be here with you the whole time and pray for you. Relax. The midwives know what to do. If you need to scream, then scream. Nothing is wrong with it."
For a moment, Jane felt more terrified than marrying the King. She wanted to hide under her covers and cry like she did as a young girl. She wanted to cuddle against her mother, who always assured her there were no witches under her bed, or comfort her when she is ill.
"I'm scared," Jane murmured, her lips trembling. "What if I die?"
"You'll be fine," Mary assured her. "God will protect you."
She squeezed Jane's hand.
The next few hours were torturous for Jane, Mary and the rest of the Court. Chapuys and Charles waited anxiously outside for the news of the baby. Jane's brothers skulked near the shadows, their hawk eyes pinned to the mahogany doors. Chapuys couldn't help but like Jane more than he did to Anne Boleyn, however he hoped Jane's child would be a girl, and the path to the Throne would remain clear for Mary and her royal Catholic heirs. The Seymours wanted a son. All their riches and power rested on the child Jane was obliged to bring to the world.
A baby's wail rose in the air, and everyone stopped lurking and walking. The doors opened and a midwife came out, a smile on her face.
"Well?" said Hertford at once. "Is it a son or daughter?"
"Is the child healthy?" asked Charles.
"How fares Her Majesty?" inquired Chapuys.
"Your Grace, Excellency, M'Lord Hertford," addressed the midwife. "Her Majesty is well and there is no symptoms of childbed fever. The child is healthy and the Queen had already decided for the Princess Mary to be godmother. As for the gender, the Queen has given birth to a son."
"I shall tell the King," spoke Thomas Seymour, from his position near the darkest of shadows. "You men go and congratulate the Queen. I'm sure the King will be pleased at the news of a Prince of Wales. Midwife, you've done well. Here's a bag of coins for your aid."
He threw a pouch of coins at the midwife, who nodded at him like a whore in a brothel.
Charles and Chapuys glanced at each other.
"The Holy Roman Emperor has no need for Mary?" Charles said softly.
"He will always care for the Princess," Chapuys replied, shooting Hertford a nasty look. "She is a true Catholic Princess, and the granddaughter of the Catholic Monarchs. He will not abandon her for the English wolves. I will not leave her here alone. Even if she's married to you. I made a promise to Catherine of Aragon before she died. I vowed never to desert my post as the Princess's ambassador. I don't care if you disapprove or send me away, as I will always be here. You are a good man, Charles Brandon. You are now married to an insignificant Tudor Princess, but I promise you that by the end of the King's life, you will be the husband of the Heiress Apparent to the English Throne."
"I will never dismiss you," said Charles, as the two men made their way to Mary. "Mary and I both respect and listen to your advice. If the King hates you, there will always be room for you in Westhorpe Hall. We'll make sure of that."
Mary cradled her new half-brother in her arms.
Tears were in her eyes, but she was unsure whether they were of joy or sadness.
"Mary?"
"Charles," said Mary, turning to him. "I don't know how I feel at the moment. The King's finally got the son he wanted."
"Princess Mary," said Hertford, before Charles could speak. "I see that you are holding my nephew, the new Prince of Wales. May I hold him? I understand that you were by the Queen's side the whole time to see the safe arrival of the Prince of Wales. You are a dedicated woman, Your Highness. May I have a moment alone with the Queen?"
Mary nodded and handed him the wailing baby.
Chapuys remained as still as a statue while Mary and Charles left the room. He had stood near the darkest part of the chambers, and courtiers hardly notice a silent ambassador.
"We can go back to Westhorpe Hall," comforted Charles. "Now that the King has a son, he'll have no need for you. We can introduce our latest child to the rest of our children. I'm sure they'll all be pleased to see their new sibling. Do you think Elizabeth and Eleanor would like to meet their half-brother? After all, you are all family."
Mary smiled at the thought of showing her children her latest son, baby John.
She had given birth to him two months ago, and named him after Bishop John Fisher, a devout Catholic who was executed. Mary remembered him as a close friend of Catherine's, and he had even heard her confessions a couple of times.
"Katharine is beginning her formal education," said Charles, walking with Mary down another dark, gloomy atmospheric corridor. "She's already five years old!"
"Hard to believe," agreed Mary.
"Which tutors should we ask for?"
"I was hoping Sir Thomas, but now…I suppose we can look around and find the recommended ones. I'll be interested in the tutors Sir Thomas will recommend from abroad. The King did say that he will provide the best scholars, but now that he has a son, he will no longer be interested in our children. At least Charlie and Harry can return from Ludlow Castle. There's a Prince of Wales, and everyone's happy. Our children can be together without the worry of separation. Once the christening is over, I'll be glad to return to the countryside. Ill never want to return to Court."
"Are you alright? You seem distant and unhappy. You can trust me. Even if you wish to speak treason, I won't rat you to the King."
"The King has a son."
"Sibling jealousy? Is that all?"
"Jane had a son. The Seymours will always be in power now. They won't help the Catholic faith or back up my claim. They are just like the Howards. They had sent Sir Thomas into hiding, and it won't be long before Chapuys is packed off back to Spain. Perhaps it's destiny that I will never ascend the Throne. My sons will die before their time."
"Don't say that! You will be Queen, if it's the last thing I do!"
Mary nodded glumly. She knew it was rude of her to be selfish, but she couldn't help it. Why couldn't Henry VIII accept her fully as his heiress?
"We are gathered here today to baptise and christen this child," announced Thomas Cranmer, the newly appointed Archbishop of Canterbury. "The son of the mighty King Henry VIII of England and Queen Jane Seymour and to recognise that he is the child of God. I hereby christen you (from this moment forth) His Royal Highness, Edward, Prince of Wales, and baptise you in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."
He drew the sign of the Cross on the baby's head with holy oil.
Mary and Hertford stood next to Cranmer. Hertford smiled, proud to be chosen as the godfather for his royal nephew. Mary couldn't hate her half-brother, even if he replaced her in the Line of Succession. After all, young Edward was only a few months younger than her own John.
She was grateful at Jane's efforts in reuniting the King with the Brandon children. Mary noticed that sitting in the second row of the pews were all her children, dressed in their best attires and grinning happily at her and their new half-uncle. She smiled joyfully back at them. All the questions and depressing thoughts lifted from her shoulders.
Jane knew how to win a woman around for a possible alliance!
After the Christening, Jane sat by the royal cradle, made completely from gold. It was unconventional for a woman of her status, but as the mother of the first Prince of Wales in around twenty seven years, no one minded. From his seat, Chapuys approved of Jane's actions. When Catherine gave birth to her first son, she sat by the royal cradle throughout the feast and festivities. He winced as he tried to stand up and bow when Mary and Charles walked up to him.
"Chapuys, please sit," said Mary hurriedly.
"Your Highness," said Chapuys, kissing her hand. "I cannot sit while you stand. I am no longer the young man that is able to travel with the Court to different palaces. Even the journey from my chambers to the great hall was tiring for me."
"I believe it is gout that pains you? I wish I can help, but the best physicians in England are useless compared to the Moors in our beloved Spain. I understand if you wish to retire and return to Spain. You will be sorely missed by not only me, but also by Charles."
"I have no desire to return. Spain is my homeland, but I will be by your side till my dying day."
"Chapuys, your health should be accounted for before your duties."
"I only wish to introduce you to my ah, assistant, Francois van der Delft."
"Will he be your successor?"
"Without a doubt, dear Princess. If my leg is to fail me, Delft will represent Charles V and take over my post as Spanish Ambassador. Don't fear, I'll remain in England. Even if I resign as ambassador, I won't leave England until you safely become Queen. Even if I have to attend two funerals. Delft is a good man. He isn't a flatterer, and was a lawyer like me when we were in Savoy. You'll like him. I'll continue what I do best and talk to you and your husband later?"
"We're leaving for Westhorpe Hall tomorrow. You're welcome to visit us at any time. One of us will always be home. You must meet our children. There's little John you should see. He was named after Bishop John Fisher. He was a good man."
"Many good men fight losing battles and die valiantly."
Mary and Charles nodded at Chapuys and went off to dance and converse with other courtiers. Hertford sat down next to him.
"Excellency," said Hertford craftily. "I had hoped we could have a little talk for quite some time. You were always busy on ambassadorial matters, while I was occupied with my duties to the Crown. Perhaps now we can have an actual conversation, regarding Her Grace, the Duchess of Suffolk and her brood of beautiful young children."
Chapuys eyed him suspiciously and was on high alert.
"Her Royal Highness, the Princess Mary," he automatically corrected Hertford.
Hertford's sly smile widened.
"Why of course!" he exclaimed. "How silly of me! The King has acknowledged her as a Princess! Of course she is now second-in-line, since the Christening of my darling nephew. I know you keep the Princess's interests at heart, so it might be better if you pass this news to her tomorrow or the next day, as she might prefer hearing it from a friend rather than the Queen's brother. The King is keen on tightening the family together, and what better way to do that than an alliance between the Seymours and the Brandons? The King proposes a betrothal between the Lady Mary Brandon and my son, the Viscount Beauchamp of Hache. If the Princess is concerned about her daughter's position as Viscountess, she has nothing to fear. My father is ill, and once he dies, I will succeed him as the 2nd Duke of Somerset. My son will take the title 'Earl of Hertford', and her daughter will be Countess. If the Princess agrees to ratify the dowry, I am willing for my son to be raised alongside the Lady Mary Brandon."
"Why not the Lady Katharine?" said Chapuys curiously. "She is the eldest."
"You know as well as I do that the Lady Katharine has long been betrothed to the Prince of Asturias since the day of her birth. I do not wish to cause diplomatic problems with Spain. Come on Chapuys. You are an ambassador, but deep inside, you are a politician like me. Just between the two of us, do you think my sister's marriage to the King is legal? Will the Emperor accept Prince Edward as the legitimate heir of England or not?"
"You are the Queen's brother. Whatever I say, you could tell the King. After all, you are now the uncle of the Prince of Wales and the King's brother-in-law."
"If I happen to say that I am a keen supporter of Catholicism and an ally of the Princess, will you trust me? No? I suppose not. Something tells me that you might need my aid sometime in the future. I always keep my end to bargains. What about you? Do you view honour and virtue more than anything? To you, I may be ambitious, but I'm an honourable man."
"Very well…what do you propose?"
"Queen Catherine was a saint. She was a gracious woman, but stubborn. The Princess is similar in nature, and will instantly refuse to even think of my son as her son-in-law."
"Ah, I see. You wish for me to encourage the match between the Lady Mary and the Viscount Beauchamp. Why not order the Princess to accept it? After all, you have the power and influence to force others to obey your orders. I believe that you are an honourable man, but I am a loyal supporter of the Princess. I will not encourage her to agree to anything for anyone else's benefit. Tell me. You are one of the most powerful men in England. Why not be like Norfolk and threaten and bribe people? Why do you still seek an alliance politely with the Princess…unless there is something preventing you from succeeding in taking everything you want. What is it?"
"If I tell you, will you promise to help suggest the match?"
"It'll depend, but very well."
Hertford glanced around.
"I had a talk with the physicians," he said in a much-lowered voice. "It was after Queen Jane gave birth to the Prince. They were worried that the Prince will die during his infancy. Jane herself had fell seriously ill a couple of times during our childhood. Prince Edward is perfectly healthy, but what if Sweating Sickness or the Plague strikes again? I'm not a pompous idiot like Norfolk. The Princess is a grown woman with children, and the Prince is a baby. To survive, I need a friendly alliance with the Princess. If she refuses to allow Lady Mary to marry my son, I will understand."
Chapuys's mind was whirling with information. If Hertford was right, and the Prince has a strong possibility of dying with the arrival of the next illness, his Princess Mary will have a chance of becoming Queen after all!
"I agree to help you," decided Chapuys. "If you answer me this question."
"What is it?" asked Hertford.
"Did you-or ask anyone to-kill Queen Catherine?" said Chapuys, looking at him in the eye.
Smash!
Instantly, both men turned to the sudden chaos, and Chapuys's eyes widened with fear and shock. On the floor was Mary, struggling to breathe, a shattered goblet beside her.
"No," said Hertford quietly. "I had reasons to, but I didn't."
Mary opened her eyes and found herself back in her chambers at Westhorpe Hall. She felt weak, tired and very confused.
"Mary?" said Charles gently beside her. "Are you alright?"
Her vision cleared and she saw Henry VIII and Jane next to Charles, both looking extremely worried at her. On her other side was Chapuys, and lurking near the door was Hertford. All of them had shadows under their eyes and seemed to have not slept a wink! Dr Linacre was at the foot of her bed, watching her carefully. What's going on?
"You've been unconscious for three days," explained Chapuys, as if reading her thoughts. "Someone had put poison in your goblet on the day of Prince Edward's christening. You're lucky that you haven't drank the whole content of it!"
"I was poisoned?" said Mary softly. "Who would do that?"
There was no doubt on Chapuys's mind that it was no other than Norfolk.
"The children haven't been told," Charles murmured. "I thought it would be best that they don't know about it. I told them that you were tired and needed to sleep. Mrs Fitzgerald is keeping them occupied in the other side of Westhorpe Hall. They seem very interested in baby John. They all hope to see you at dinner tonight. Katharine said that you're like a baby. You sleep all day."
"I have been," said Mary, with a small laugh. "I'm glad the children accept John. It's a good idea keeping the news away from them. They're too young to know."
"I will give all your sons titles," Henry VIII promised (to Charles's annoyance). "Upon marriage or until
they're of age. I remember that you give two names. What is John's middle name?"
"Arthur," said Mary, sitting up more. "Lord John Arthur Brandon."
"Ah. A fitting name for a soldier! I can picture your son leading an army into battle, on behalf of his half-uncle, the Prince of Wales!"
"Charles and I have decided that John will be devoted to the Church. His namesake was Bishop John Fisher, and it is only fitting for our young John to follow in his footsteps. He already seems to have taken a liking to churches. John will continue the Catholic legacy for another generation. It'll always be good to have a religious Brandon in the family."
"What if he falls in love?"
"We shall see in the future. May I talk to Chapuys alone please?"
"Very well my Pearl. At least now you are well."
Mary waited until only Chapuys remained.
"Hertford didn't poison you," Chapuys said softly. "I know what you're thinking, but on my life, I swear it isn't Hertford or any Seymour. Hertford and I had a conversation, and he told me that the Prince of Wales might not live through the first wave of illness. Without their precious Edward, the Seymours will lose all their power and ambitions. They're not like the Howards who view children as nothing but pawns. The Seymours have hearts. I know it's hard to believe, but please try. He didn't poison your mother either. He swore on his life."
"I believe you," said Mary calmly. "Personally, I prefer Queen Jane to Anne Boleyn. However, Hertford is ambitious. What did you and he discuss? I had no idea that Hertford was interested in benefiting Spanish matters on behalf of Charles V."
"He wishes for an alliance with you."
"Why ask you? You're the Spanish Ambassador."
"Hertford has hoped for a marital alliance between your Lady Mary, and his eldest son."
"Mimi is older than Viscount Beauchamp by two years! Why not Bella?"
"I have no idea. Why not discuss the bride with Hertford? He only wishes for me to ask if you will be his ally. Of course you are family, but-"
"I understand. There's still uncertainty throughout the realm. If his son will be raised a Catholic, I have no objections. I will discuss the dowry and the bride choice with Hertford, but before I do all that, I must talk to Charles about it. He is my husband and the father of our children. Hertford should've went directly to him if he wanted to seek an alliance with our family. When will I be able to meet Delft? I'd like to know him a little before he becomes the Spanish Ambassador."
"Delft will arrive in England in a few weeks."
"Have you found out who killed my mother and tried to poison me?"
"Not yet. I'm sorry. Not all the nobles are cooperating. If you excuse me, I must leave to negotiate matters with the Council."
"Of course. You are a busy man. I feel ready to walk. I suppose I slept too much and should allow the others to sleep. Others including you. After your meeting, please go to sleep for at least ten hours. You will work yourself ill at this rate! I will ask the King to entrust another man to look at my attempted murder. A man that we all trust."
"Like whom?"
"I was hoping for Sir Thomas More."
"He's an exiled man! The King will never want him in England!"
"I have a few ideas that might allow him back in England with his old position as Lord Chancellor. I think an alliance with the Seymours might be helpful after all."
Mary nodded at Chapuys respectfully and walked steadily to the door. She felt well, but at times like this, she encountered sudden bouts of dizziness spells. Quickly shaking it off, Mary opened the door and went to find Henry VIII and Charles.
"Are you well?" said Charles worriedly. "You should still be in bed…"
"We have to guarantee Sir Thomas's safe return," said Mary at once.
"I know you're worried about him, but at the moment, we might have to think more of your health and safety. The King had allowed us to stay with the children here for a month or two for you to recuperate, but that won't last forever. We need to hire tasters and all the food and drink must be checked for any traces of poison. Sir Thomas is a good friend and a loyal Catholic, but at the moment, you are more important. Anyone could've wanted you dead."
"I can't burden Chapuys anymore. Sir Thomas can help."
"How are you planning to ask the King for Sir Thomas's return? At the moment, he hates him and will have him dead once he sets his eyes on him!"
"I will agree to the betrothal that Hertford wants, and I will personally arrange a marital alliance between the Prince of Wales and one of Charles V's nieces from his brother, Archduke Ferdinand. I'm sure even now, the King wishes for Prince Edward to be recognised as his heir. What better way than for him to be betrothed to the niece of the most powerful man in Europe? Are you aware that Hertford is seeking an alliance with us?"
"Yes, he did mention it a few days ago."
"What did you say?"
"I needed to talk to you about it. Are you certain you want to proceed with an alliance? The Seymours are a better choice than the Howards, but what if they want to strengthen their claim through marriage via your bloodline? They are ambitious…"
"We have many sons and daughters. I'm sure they just want to be closer to us as families should. You do want Sir Thomas back safely, don't you?"
Charles nodded slowly.
He hated making alliances with shifty families who rose to prominence through their daughters having dalliances/marriage with the King, but what other option is there? Without the Seymours, their children will forever be threats to the King. Without the Seymours, Sir Thomas and the Poles will remain in exile in Italy and abroad for the rest of their lives.
For now, the Seymours are their only hope.
Thanks for the reviews! They really help speed up chapters and work as ammunition! I hope the story review count will reach between 63-65! The next chapter is on the way! Who knows? Maybe I'll have time and upload it tomorrow or the next day ;)