Chapter X

October, 1533

A month had passed and Mary remained away from George and Anne. She had left for Lancaster Castle with Catherine two days after her argument with George.

George himself, was in a serious dilemma.

"What do you want?" He became slightly more irritated by the minute.

"Recognition," said Jane Parker with a falsely innocent smile. "Recognition that I am your true wife and you acknowledge little Thomas as your son and heir."

He always thought Jane Parker was not fully right in the head, but to declare herself his true wife?! She must be locked away in a convent.

George had managed to avoid Jane Parker for a month with the excuse of travelling to France to suppress the Norman revolts, but now that he was back in England, Jane Parker had appeared at his side like a pestering harpy.

"We are not married," George insisted.

"We are!" exclaimed Jane Parker adamantly. "We are married, and this is our son!" She pointed to the fair-haired boy at her side.

"No. You...you do not know what you are talking about. You are unwell, Mistress Parker. I will write to your father, Henry Parker, 10th Baron Morley, and he will arrange for you to be taken home. Perhaps you can stay with your sister, Lady Margaret Shelton or your other sister, Lady Alice Barrington. We were not married, and we will never be. Princess Mary Tudor is my wife."

"You are mistaken! Do you wonder why your son and daughter have died young?"

"How do you know that?"

"You are living in sin, husband! You have married another woman without divorcing me! It is very sweet of you to name your eldest daughter after me (father told me you named your daughter 'Lady Jane Boleyn'), but she is illegitimate! We have been married for three years! Little Thomas is now three years old, and we have been living in the country together. I thought it was only right for you to see your son now and declare him your heir and grant him the title 'Viscount Rochford'. I think it is about time we have another son, do you?"

"I did not name my late daughter after you. Can you prove we are married?"

To his horror, Jane Parker produced a piece of parchment.

"It is legal," she said triumphantly. "You were drunk one night, and proposed to me. I accepted. We went to the chapel and a priest married us. I still remember him, and he still remembers you. We consummated our union in a tavern bedchamber, and we did not speak much after that. I went to the country, gave birth to a son and I named him Thomas, after your father. I always knew that he will have a bright future and a career. Thomas, meet your father, the Marquess or Ormond."

"The King did not elevate my peerage for marriage to you," said George desperately. "He made me a marquess to marry his daughter, the Princess Mary! If I am truly married to you, he would've left me as nothing but Viscount Rochford!"

Jane Parker's victorious smile transformed into an ugly scowl.

"The King assured my father that Beaulieu Palace will be ours as a wedding gift!" she said, outraged, her cheeks flaming red. "We are MARRIED! My son is your HEIR!"

"We will discuss this later," said George, forcing himself to remain calm. "As your...husband, I command you to return to your chambers with...our son. I will talk to the King, my uncle and my father about this and this matter will be resolved."

A smile returned to Jane Parker's lips.

"Visit me tonight?" she said sweetly-too sweetly.

"Perhaps," said George, feeling ill. "The King might want to talk all night about this. If I don't see you tonight, I will see you tomorrow morning."

Jane Parker nodded, kissed him on the cheek and walked off smugly with her son.

George immediately went to see Anne.

"She said I was drunk," George confessed to her once every lady-in-waiting left the room. "I seriously don't remember any of it. Do you? Apparently we even consummated our union and now she's presenting me with a son of three years! By God! Do you think I actually married her?! Father will be happy if it is true, as he would be gifted with a grandson, but with Mary..."

"You married Jane Parker?" snorted Anne. "An unlikely story!"

"She even has paperwork to prove it! Mary is already angry at me, and now she will be furious! Or maybe she will be pleased and can marry the prince of her dreams. She will have those royal sons and daughters she was always supposed to have. What do we do?"

"Father will be both furious and pleased. He has a grandson, but loses a royal daughter-in-law. What do you want to do? Whatever you plan, I'll support you. Do you want to apparently remain married to Jane Parker? You'll lose Mary, but gain a son and heir. I suggest you talk to the King before you approach father or Uncle Norfolk on the matter."

"That was exactly as I thought!"

"Who will you choose? Mary or Jane?"

"Are you seriously asking me that question?! Mary of course! I never liked Jane Parker! Mary is the woman I love, not Jane Parker! Mary will be the mother of my sons, not Jane Parker! Something tells me that Jane Parker will not willingly annul our apparent marriage."

"Do you think she speaks truth, and you actually have a son?"

"She thinks so. I do not remember sleeping with her..."

"What if we bribe her with a peerage and an annuity? Jane Parker is a greedy bitch. She may agree to divorce you if the annulment settlement included giving her an annuity and a peerage and a husband who will love her. Even though I despise her, I feel sorry for her. All she wanted was to be loved. Her mother, Alice Parker (nee' St John), Lady Morley died when Jane Parker was young, and her father, Henry Parker, 10th Baron Morley never had enough time to look after her and his other children; his heir Henry, and his other daughters, Alice and Margaret. She may have thought you were her ideal husband, but after what happened...she will never be sweet again."

"When was she sweet?! She's deranged!"

"George! Have a heart! Don't you remember the first day Jane Parker was presented to us? I will talk to the King, and you find a good man for her."

"Does Lord Morley know that his daughter had a son of dubious bloodline?"

"Anne," said Lady Mary, sticking her head in the room. "Oh, George. You're here too? The King wishes to see you at once. He says it is urgent."

"Do you know what it regards?" said George carefully.

"You," said Lady Mary, looking at him curiously. "He says that if you and Anne do not show up with father and Norfolk in ten minutes, all of you will be in the Tower facing charges on the grounds of treason. I included. What have you done? Please tell me you didn't kill a man..."

Anne smirked.

"What's so funny?" said Lady Mary and George together.

"This probably has something to do with George's recent marital dilemma," she said, with a snigger. "I thought you knew, Mary? George has committed a serious sin!"

Lady Mary raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"He is married to Mistress Jane Parker!" laughed Anne, even though it was a serious matter. "And he has a son called Thomas! Imagine that! He has been married to her for three years! We cannot speak so rudely to Mistress Jane anymore! She is the marchioness of Ormond!"

"Come on!" urged Lady Mary, glancing tentatively around. "We must go to the King, or all our heads will be on spikes on London Bridge! What if he makes Isabelle queen? He will disinherit Elizabeth and have his heir! For Elizabeth's sake, we must go!"

The three of them rushed to the King's chambers, the women giggling a little.

"YOU DARE LAUGH AT A GRAVE MATTER LIKE THIS?!"

Their laughter ceased as the shadow of Henry VIII loomed forebodingly over them.

"Forgive us, Your Majesty," said Anne sweetly, curtseying. "Why do you call us at this hour?"

"Is it true?!" spat the King, glaring at George with burning hatred. "Are you married to Mistress Jane Parker or not?! She told me that you've been married for three bloody years! FOR THREE YEARS! You have deceived me, Ormond! You have been married this whole time when you went through the ceremony with my daughter! Is this some scheme cooked up by your uncle?! Are you using Mary to climb closer to the throne?! You have shamed my daughter! You better have a good explanation for this, or I will throw you into the Tower and have you EXECUTED!"

"I do not know," said George uncomfortably.

"HOW CAN YOU BLOODY NOT KNOW?! EVERY MAN WILL KNOW IF HE IS MARRIED OR NOT! SHE EVEN SHOWED ME THE WEDDING CONTRACT! YOU FOOL!" He thwacked George on the head.

"I apologise if I had offended you in any way-"

"OFFENDED IN ANY WAY?! MY DAUGHTER IS NOW A WHORE AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW IT! YOU FIND A WAY TO FIX THIS, OR YOU WILL BE EXECUTED IN A DAY!"

"Can we offer Jane Parker an annulment contract?"

"A contract?" The King calmed down quickly.

"Yes, Your Majesty. An annulment contract. She is a difficult woman, and all difficult women can be placated with ah, bribery. Offer her a peerage, a loving husband and the legitimisation of her son in exchange for a divorce."

The King looked sceptical. "She will accept that?"

"Yes, dear husband," Anne piped in. "I know Mistress Parker. Deep inside, she is a lovely woman. She is just insecure and without support. If you give make her a peer in her own right, she will agree to the divorce and leave us alone, and Mary and George can be married secretly again. The people do not have to know about this."

The King nodded thoughtfully.

"Who will marry her?" he wondered. "She does not have a perfect reputation."

"I have a man in mind, Your Majesty," supplied Lady Mary. "Sir John Dudley. He is a loyal and caring man, who has just been widowed. It has been said that he loved his wife till she died last year. Sir John Dudley and his late wife, Jane Guildford, had four young children together; three sons and a daughter, and they all need a mother. I'm sure a baron's daughter will delight him."

"Sir John Dudley..." mused the King. "Yes, Lady Carey. He will do brilliantly. His father was Sir Edmund Dudley, was he not? I had him executed when I ascended the throne...Sir John had always shown himself to be loyal, and a rich wife will do him good. He has his sons anyway, and if he is glad to take Mistress Parker's son as his own, I will bestow the viscountcy of Lisle upon Dudley, as it was his mother's title before her death. I am certain Dudley will accept Jane Parker as his second wife."

George nodded, relieved.

"I will give her the title 'Viscountess Lovell'," decided the King. "Her paternal grandmother was a Lovell who was also baroness in her own right. I will also give Mistress Parker an annuity of two thousand pounds and her son and his future descendants will succeed her. Her son will be given the heir apparent title of 'Baron Parker', and her future grandson will be a baronet."

"Do you think she will accept?" said George uncertainly.

"Yes," said Anne confidently. "She is a woman who knows what she wants."

In a matter of minutes, an agreement was drawn up and Jane Parker was summoned.

"Mistress Parker," said the King crisply. "We have been talking, and this matter of your...marriage to the Marquess of Ormond cannot come to light. No matter whether it is true or not, we have decided to negotiate with you for an annulment." He handed her the contract.

"I cannot give him up, Your Majesty!" shrilled Jane Parker. "Our son will have nothing! We are lawfully married, and I will give George many sons!"

"If you read the agreement, Mistress Parker, you and your son will be provided for immensely. You will also have a new husband in Sir John Dudley." Jane Parker's eyes skimmed through the parchment and she frowned slightly.

"No," she said flatly. "It is not fair. I will only be a viscountess, and my son, a baron. I am married to George, and I am the Marchioness of Ormond, my son, Viscount Rochford. It is time I take my place in court as his wife. Why would I agree to marry a man who is a mere knight with three sons of his own? If I have a son with him, he will have low prospects."

Hastily, a new contract was drawn up.

"I hope you find this more agreeable, Mistress Parker," said the King stiffly. "Please keep in mind that

many women do not have a choice in writing their own marriage contracts including their dowries."

Jane Parker nodded.

"You will hold the title 'Viscountess Lovell' in your own right," negotiated George. "As your heir apparent, your son Thomas will be Baron Parker. You will have an annuity of two thousand pounds and still marry Sir John Dudley, who will have the title 'Earl of Warwick' bestowed upon him. As his wife, you will be the countess of Warwick. All the sons you have with Sir John Dudley will be given earldoms upon their marriages to ladies of the King's approval. Your future daughters will be married to great noblemen, all above the rank of 'viscount' and under that of 'prince' unless given permission by the King. Your future children-with those of Sir John Dudley and his first wife, the late Lady Jane Guildford-will be wards of the King and Queen of England and given an excellent education alongside the Princess Elizabeth and any other children the King and Queen happen to have. In return, you will agree to the divorce and never speak of this matter again. If you do, your titles and estates will be forfeit and you will be executed without trial on the grounds of high treason and your son, Thomas, will be kept in the Tower unto the King's pleasure and will not be permitted to marry. Upon your marriage to Sir John Dudley, you will remain in Kenilworth Castle and stay away from court unless you are summoned. Do you agree to that?"

Her lips tightened.

Being at court was her life...! The intrigue! The excitement!

Being away from it will be hell!

Damn my quick tongue! She thought. If I agreed to the earlier contract, I might've been allowed to stay at court more! Alice is the one suited to the duties of a country wife, not me! I live on excitement and secrets! Not looking after children away from court!

However, the thought of being a countess appealed to her.

Neither of her sisters were countesses...

"Very well," she agreed, scrawling her name on the parchment. "I will keep my end to the bargain, and I hope you will too. However, George. I want you to say hello to Thomas before he is shipped off the country and acknowledged as Sir John Dudley's son and ward."

George nodded with a sigh.

Pretending to be her son's father was easy enough.

"Wait," said the King shortly. "Lord Ormond will visit your son after all the divorce papers are signed, you witness the secret remarriage of Lord Ormond and the Princess Royal and your own marriage to Sir John Dudley. Understand, Mistress Parker?"

Jane Parker curtsied and left.

"I hope you and Mary are now able to have surviving children," said the King, his cold gaze landing on George. "Once this divorce matter is sorted."

Unrest and unease stirred within English-conquered France. Suffolk tried to be fair, but the French didn't seem to appreciate it.

He knew that in the time of Edward I and Edward II of England, the savage Scots slowly gained back their land due to the English soldiers' brutality and unfairness towards the natives of Scotland. He vowed not to make the same mistake.

However, nothing he seemed to do would work.

He wanted to return to England.

To his wife.

To his family.

"Your Grace," said the fresh-faced, sixteen year old Henry Grey, 3rd Marquess of Dorset appearing in front of him. "We have a problem. There's been word of another Joan of Arc spreading around camp. The soldiers are getting anxious and want to go home. What will we do? I do not believe it is true. There cannot be another Joan of Arc!"

"That witch?" snorted Suffolk. "By God! There's no way that is true!"

"I know it is impossible, Your Grace, but the soldiers do not think so. Francis I is in hiding, and it is said that he is financing this second Joan of Arc to regain Normandy and Picardy. What will we do? Do you want us to leave this person (or myth) alone, or exterminate the threat? The soldiers will want to return home for Christmas before December."

"Has any English soldier been killed by this Joan yet?"

"No. She does not seem to claim that she heard voices from the angels either. Maybe it is something the French made up to scare us. Shall I organise another public flogging?"

"No, my lord Dorset. If we do, the French will sense that we are afraid. We cannot allow that to happen, do you understand? No Frenchman is to be harmed unless this Joan of Arc shows herself. Every English soldier she kills, two Frenchmen will be executed. Do not release that information yet. She may be a threat, but there are certain regulations we must follow."

"Your Grace! We must teach the French a lesson once and for all!"

"No. You are young and hot-headed. I was a lad like you once-"

"You were not, Lord Suffolk. You were still a commoner, nothing more than a standard bearer's son! I am the son of the late marquess! Nobility!"

"I will pretend I did not hear you say that. Go and squash those rumours of this Joan of Arc without violence. If I find out you flogged or killed a single Frenchman, I will send you home to England in disgrace, and terminate your betrothal to my daughter, Frances! I doubt Lord Arundell would even want you for his daughter by then." He chuckled as Dorset blushed furiously.

Dorset bowed and exited.

He sat around the open fire and listened as the soldiers talked.

"...Have you heard? It's been said that Joan of Arc has risen back from the dead!"

"...Old fisher wives' tales. Nothing more."

"...You have drank too much wine, my friend! You must rest."

"...No! It is true, men! It has been said that with Francis I's support and the backing of the French nobility, this Joan of Arc is marching here to reclaim the land for the French! Her armies are twice the size of that of the first Joan."

"Enough!" said Dorset suddenly. "These are nothing but rumours! Let this second Joan of Arc come and face the wrath of us Englishmen! Our king has the blood of Henry V running in his veins! He will teach the French a lesson they will never forget! We are not afraid of a simple French peasant girl! I promise you this, men; once we capture her, we will not burn her at stake like the last one. We will...play with her as all men do to girls." The soldiers guffawed. "We will watch her break and rot in prison! She will not be a martyr or a saint! She will ROT WHERE SHE BELONGS!"

The soldiers cheered wildly.

Dorset stood up and nodded at a fellow soldier.

"Who is this Joan of Arc?" he said quietly. "She doesn't hear the voices of the angels. Is she in anyway similar to the last?"

"She is the same age as the other Joan of Arc," whispered the soldier, as if he was in a daze. "She can weld a sword better than any soldier, and cut through us as if she is cutting a slice of bread! The French do not call her Joan of Arc. They call her 'Jeanne le sauveur'. Joan the Saviour. I heard that she is also from the same place as Joan of Arc. Can you believe it?"

"The French are making up rumours. Nothing more."

"Are you sure, Lord Dorset?"

"What evidence is there to prove she is real?"

"Have you noticed the weather change, Lord Dorset? When we arrived in France, it was grey and dark and rainy. Like England. Now, it is sunny. For France. What do we tell His Grace? If we run away, we will be seen as traitors and cowards! If we stay, we get slaughtered by le Sauveur."

"Rather die an honourable death than a traitorous one."

"I have family back in England-"

"We all do."

"Forgive me, Lord Dorset, but you are a nobleman. You will be buried grandly and your memory will be remembered. Me? I will be buried in a common grave and forgotten. My family will never know if I am dead or alive, and they will die in destitution. You are betrothed to the King's own niece for reasons I do not care about, but I married my Maud for love and joining our family lands together. I will not let her grieve and worry as I die fighting the King's hopeless battle against le Sauveur. Unless the King shows up and fights alongside us, I see myself as a traitor already. Dying on the battlefield isn't honour for a common soldier like me. It is dying alone."

"You speak treason!"

"What will you do? Tell His Grace?" He smiled mockingly. "I rather die a coward than fighting for a king who gained the Devil's daughter as his mistress."

"Just go," said Suffolk from behind Dorset. "If you do not wish to fight, just go home. I too wish to be with my family back in England rather than here. I certainly do not want your family to worry and not know if you are alive or dead."

"What?" said Dorset, surprised.

"Are you certain, Your Grace?" said the soldier uncertainly.

"Yes," said Suffolk flatly. "I will announce to the other soldiers that those who wish to return to England may, and those who stay here will be honoured with knighthoods and more pay once we conquer this Jeanne le Sauveur. The King said that whatever I want, I will receive, and those who want to go home will leave on the first available ship. There is no point having you here if you do not have the heart to fight a woman, or if your honour and pride is at stake. Dorset, you will go back with them. It was a mistake to bring you here. When you return home, you will marry my daughter straight away. It isn't punishment. It is to keep you safe."

Dorset nodded reluctantly. "What do we do about le Sauveur?"

"Do not worry about her," said Suffolk, determined. "I will deal with her. I will finish off those Frenchmen like how I finish off my bread for breakfast. Once we have our walk of triumph with le Sauveur in chains, the French will never raise a finger against us again."

The Joan of Arc-ish part is specially for IOU1882. The next scene in France will most likely be in the French perspective :) Please read and review!