Hi :) So, here it is, on time for once, huh? Sorry that it's short but there are a couple of things that I wanted to focus on in this chapter and I'll try and post the next part this week and then one of the usual posts on the weekend - but, don't hold me to it.
Thank you to;
LeKitsune, cutiepie102, Nightstar521 and dark-lelu for following.
cutiepie102 and dark-lelu for favouriting.
and Charlie Belle, HermioneandMarcus, kiralol101 and dark-lelu for reviewing :D
SPECIAL THANKS TO: cutiepie102 for following me and dark-lelu for favouriting and following me :)

Charlie Belle - Yay, glad we share the same view of Margaret :) You catch on quick huh? Hope you like this one.
HermioneandMarcus - So glad that you thought it was excellent, hope you enjoy this one.
kiralol101 - Yay, you came back! Don't worry about it, just glad that you found time :D Charles and Evie going home should be coming soon. I know! Gosh, Margaret is so ungrateful for getting to marry a King with gout, huh? :) Your questions will be answered. You may not like me so much after you read this one. Awrh, it's cool that you look like the girl in the picture, if you want to make some sort of banner for the story, that would be awesome! Hope you like this one.
dark-lelu - How's this for a quick update? Enjoy.

So, on with the story...

Taming the Unfaithful Husband

Charles Brandon/OC
No copyright infringement intended

Chapter 11;

Evelyn came round within the hour to find herself no longer in the library, but settled comfortably under the covers of her bed, dressed in her nightgown.

For a moment, she wondered why she was in bed in the middle of the day; but then the memory of the Lady Buckingham's visit swam back into her mind. What did she mean 'losing a husband to one's own sister'? Surely, if Charles were to be an unfaithful husband, he would not disgrace her name - and the name of their King - by simply moving onto another Princess.

Evelyn was drawn from her mind-boggling thoughts by the wooden door opposite the foot at the bed was pushed open and the face of the Lady Jasmine came into view.

She gave a low curtsey and approached the bed slowly. "How are you feeling, Your Grace?"

Evie raised a hand to her forehead and felt nothing out of the blue, except the tired ache deep down in her bones.

"Nothing but tired, My Lady, thank you for your concern."

Jasmine nodded and came to stand by the Duchess' head. She pulled the covers higher to keep her mistress warm in the cooler weather and gave a small smile before turning to walk back through the door.

"Wait," the Duchess called and watched as her friend paused and rotated to look at her, "Could you stay for a while, my Lady? For some reason I do not wish to be alone."

She feared that the unwelcome thoughts would reappear and she would fall into some doubt filled haze where she thought of nothing but her husband and her sister.

Jasmine nodded, concern in her gaze, and went over to the hearth to move one of the wooden chairs to position it beside the bed.

"Would you care to tell me some more about your betrothed?" Evie blurted, saying the first thing that came into her mind.

The Lady blinked, slightly taken aback by the Duchess' sudden question. She took a moment to compose herself and then responded, "What would you like to know, Your Grace?"

"How long have you been waiting for Robert?"

The Lady took in a deep breath. "Many years now, Your Grace. I would wait forever if I have to."

Evelyn paused, her brow wrinkling. "What did you say his name was again?"

"Robert Lupton, Your Grace."

All of a sudden, the connection to that name came flooding back to the Duchess' mind. She remembered being seated beside her brother, Charles standing on his other side, when a man had entered with his face drawn and pale. Henry had identified him as one of the most senior members of his army. He had proceeded to list the names of the knights that hadn't made it back home. Robert Lupton had been one of them.

Evie sat up a little straighter in her bed and took one of her Ladies' hands in hers and clasped it tightly. "I am so dearly sorry, my Lady, but if memory serves me correctly, Mr. Lupton perished in one of the battles that England's brave knights fought in."

Evelyn watched as her friend's face paled, the blood draining away. Her hand stiffened in Evie's grasp and her deep brown irises slowly filling with tears. She took in a ragged breath.

"You appear to be mistaken, Your Grace. Robert said he would come back for me and I shall wait for him until he does. You must be remembering incorrectly - yes, that must be it. If you'll excuse me, Your Grace, I must continue with my chores."

The Duchess watched silently and with a heavy heart as one of her dearest friends rushed from the room before her tears of sadness could descend.

Becoming slightly upset with herself, Evelyn rolled onto her side and, to escape the invading thoughts about cheating husbands and tearful friends, forced herself to drift off into a deep slumber.

Meanwhile, the ship containing its precious cargo had reached the shores of Lisbon, Portugal.

Charles had been studiously ignoring the Princess since their little confrontation a few nights ago, but it didn't seem to matter, all the notice she gave him now was a few sneers or smug looks as if she knew something that he didn't.

Margaret's words had repeatedly crossed his mind during the last part of the journey. What plan could she possibly be talking about? The Duke had always thought of Margaret as someone who could be as mean as Lucifer himself, but never one to do substantial damage to her own family.

Charles had come to the conclusion that her little stunt was one that was intended to capture the attention of someone back in England. Brandon had settled on the theory that the Princess intended to use him to send a clear message to her brother that if she was to be a wife to an old, gout ridden King, she was not to be faithful.

At that specific moment, Charles - along with a handful of other men - were waiting one the large halls for the Princess to make her appearance.

The set up was noticeably grander than his own wedding, but, he supposed, he was not a King.

Brandon watched as a man - once large and athletic in build, but now more stooped and with a significant difficulty with walking - entered at a slow pace, flanked by two men at each side. This was the King of Portugal, and Margaret was in for a fun ride.

It wasn't long before the lady in question arrived and Charles quickly slipped into his place following quietly a few steps behind her. The Duke suppressed a laugh at the way the King before them nodded his approval to the men at his sides, before licking his thin lips and using the support of a cane to totter his way towards his bride.

The bride's wedding party all bowed low as they were approached. Charles could hear the short prayer being sent up by the Princess as the King began babbling in Portuguese. Margaret thrust her chin higher as she rose from her curtsey to find her betrothed taking a firm grip on her chin.

Luckily, the Duke was close enough to catch the Princess before she fell to the floor in a dramatic faint.

Due to the King's orders to hurry along the marriage, Margaret's Ladies had hurried to rouse her from her 'sleep' and to dress her in her wedding dress. Charles couldn't help but compare her to Evelyn which resulted in a crippling ache in his chest caused by the want to see his wife.

Brandon brought himself back to the task in hand as he led the Princess toward her new husband in the hopes that the quicker it was over, the quicker he could leave the woman in a foreign country and set sail back home to his beloved wife.

The Duke watched the proceedings before him with a detached look in his eyes. He did notice, however, how positively excited the King seemed to be at the prospect of marrying a young woman like the Princess.

The event passed without a hitch and Charles' job was officially done. He hadn't shared a word with the woman for days and was glad that she would no longer be able to spread rumours about him and his goddess of a wife from her new home in Portugal.

Evelyn blinked her eyes open to the hushed sounds of light footsteps moving swiftly about the room. She took a moment to compose herself before lifting her head and gently turning her body so that she now lay on her back, her head propped up on her pillows.

The Duchess' oceanic eyes made out the figure of one of her Ladies fixing things around the room - a swipe of a wet cloth here, a re-folding of a gown there. For a moment, Evie thought that the woman could be the Lady Jasmine come to speak with her once again about her love, but as the woman turned, a few loose blonde curls tumbled around a youthful face.

At first, the Lady Anne didn't realize that her mistress had awoken so was caught slightly be surprise when she spun on her heel to find the Duchess awake and sitting with her back resting gently on the pillows.

"Oh, Your Grace; you did frighten me."

Evie bowed her head slightly in apology. "I am sorry, my Lady." She was confused as she noticed that the sky outside had remained the deep shade of navy blue that it had been when she had awoken the first time.

"Will this night never end? I feel as though I should be waking to the daylight glinting through the windows."

The Lady Anne's eyebrows drew together. "Your Grace, you have slept right through the daylight."

"I did?"

Anne nodded and came closer to the Duchess to lay a hand on her forehead.

"You do not have a temperature which is good news, Your Grace. How do you feel?"

Evelyn gave the query some serious thought. She was still relatively tired, despite her elongated sleep, an incredible hunger for Oxfordshire cake was settled in her belly and tenderness in her breasts. When she relayed this information, her friend replied with a baffling question.

"When was your last women's time, Your Grace?"

Slightly confused by the question, Evie thought backwards to the time in question.

"About a week before my wedding."

Anne's pale green eyes widened to a seemingly impossible size before eliciting a squeal and rushing over to crouch beside the bed. She placed one hand on the Duchess' stomach and met her eyes with a grin.

"Your Grace, you symptoms point to one thing; you are with child!"

The news astounded Evelyn to such an extent that she felt paralyzed. She barely felt it as the Lady Anne lifted one of her hands and rested it over her lower stomach.

Evelyn couldn't believe that there was a small life growing inside of her. It was such a strange thing to come to terms with for she and Charles had only been married for a little over a month - as Charles had taken a lot longer than expected due to storms and such - and she was already carrying the heir to the Brandon title.

The Duchess knew that she was supposed to elated at this news but she just couldn't seem to bring herself to accept it; not with the haunting prospect of a husband who would return with her sister.

With a new resolve, Evelyn used both hands to cradle her still flat stomach. If Charles did return to England with a request for a new wife, she would raise her baby as a strong independent individual who wouldn't be as much of a fool in love as their mother.

Oooooh, strong Evie much? You guys like that? What do you think about the news? I have it all planned out, don't worry. Leave me a review with any ideas/questions/comments, I love to hear them. Thank you for reading.