Chapter XI
June, 1538
"You wished to see me, Princess?" said Hertford, at the door of Charles and Mary's antechambers. "I came here at once."
Mary nodded and gestured for Hertford to sit in front of her and Charles.
She had no desire to discuss the alliance plans as if they were farmers and bartering cattle or merchants making deals. She wanted the meeting with Hertford as casual and friendly as possible. Charles sat next to her, and in front of them was a small table with a bottle of ink, a neat pile of parchment, three quills (made from the finest feathers), three goblets and a large bottle of ale.
"We've both heard about your suggestion of strengthening our family ties," explained Charles. "Perhaps you can expand further on your idea? We've both decided that it would be put forward if all the reasons can be agreed on, and the terms laid forward."
Hertford's eyes glinted for a second.
"You aid us, we help you," he answered.
"Is that all?" said Mary, not believing it for a moment.
"What else do allies do? We are after all, family. Even though it was only by marriage through my sister to the King, but I hope at the end of this discussion, our blood will be tied closer. We're bother in powerful positions. Princess, you are the key that opens the doors between Spain and England. Your cousin is not only the King of Spain, but the Holy Roman Emperor and in possession of a large amount of land. You can influence Charles V to the advantage of England. Your Grace, you are the King's most loyal and trusted friend. If you do the King's bidding, your family might rise to be the richest family in all of England! Every nobleman would want to marry your children. I am the Queen's brother and uncle to the Prince of Wales. I can ask the King to expel our enemies from Court, and allow the return of unfairly exiled men of the true faith. If we are allies, we keep no secrets from each other."
"I suppose you're right. We do need your help, and you do need ours. Before we go any further, I was given word that your family were plotting with the Boleyns and sent Sir Thomas More and the Poles into hiding. Is it true?"
"I am a Catholic!"
"Your nephew, the Prince of Wales, won't be. He'll be raised a Protestant heretic."
"You speak treason, Princess, but I'll let it slide just this once. Why would I be proposing an alliance if I dismissed your friends? It wasn't me for sure! I'll make sure the Prince of Wales is a Catholic. The Boleyns created a Protestant England, I'll restore the Catholic England."
Even though Mary remained suspicious of the foxy Hertford, she was impressed by his goals. An imperial marriage would definitely do Prince Edward some good!
"We want Sir Thomas More back," spoke Charles. "As well as the Poles."
Hertford raised an eyebrow.
"You want an alliance with me for that?" he said, with a laugh.
"Yes," said Charles pleasantly. "One of many reasons. We will agree to a betrothal (with the permission of the King of course) between any of our daughters and your heir, Viscount Beauchamp. If all goes well, the marriage will go through. If you fail to bring the Poles and Sir Thomas back, I will personally break the betrothal and arrange for the chosen bride to be wedded to another nobleman. Perhaps Henry Courtenay, 1st Marquess of Exeter will agree to allow his son, the Earl of Devon, to marry her. I'm sure the Nevilles will love her to be part of their large family."
"Very well," said Hertford, who hated the equally powerful Courtenay and Neville families. "Are your children with you?"
"Why wouldn't they be?"
"Some families would send their children to be raised elsewhere."
"I hope you aren't planning to send both your son and my daughter to a different household."
"Of course not! If you agree fully and we sign it, I shall allow my son to be raised here in Westhorpe Hall with all your children. He will learn his lessons alongside his future wife. Perhaps you won't mind if my daughter, the Lady Anne is also raised with your children? Technically, they're cousins and what better way for them to know each other? My wife, the Countess, has no love of tending to children. She would give them straight to their nursemaids after their births! This may seem uncharacteristic to you, but I want our children to be loved and properly cared for."
"You want us to be surrogate parents to your children?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. If you're worried about expenses, I can pay for it. Perhaps your daughters wish for other female companions? I'm sure my Anne will be no trouble at all if you allow her to be your ward. Of course she's still an infant, but she'll make a good friend with your Elizabeth. It is an unwritten obligation for upper nobility to take in wards, which you did before you married the Princess. It was Catherine Willoughby, 12th Baroness Willoughby de Eresby and Richard Compton, 1st Baron de Compton wasn't it? I believe they've married each other now?"
"Yes. I suppose you're right in that point. Mary, I don't know if you're aware, but it is expected of us to look after children other than our own. Some nobles would later marry them off to their children, or in some cases, marry a ward themselves."
Mary nodded.
"I can send you children of other nobles," Hertford offered.
"Probably all of Seymour blood," Charles said sarcastically. "Before we talk about wardships, let's seal up our own alliance between the Brandons and the Seymours. Can you guarantee that Mary and our children will be safe and won't be poisoned?"
"Yes! Why would I want my own step-niece dead? The King will have my head! Do I have the honour of selecting my future daughter-in-law?"
"I suppose so. Would you like to meet them?"
"Might as well. I'll see all your children."
"Why my sons?"
"They'll make fine soldiers and advisors for the Prince of Wales. Perhaps one or two of them will be good companions for him when he is older. I'll focus on you girls more. Lady Katharine will not be in the running to be the future Countess of Hertford, I suppose? She is four years older than my son, and perhaps engaged to another nobleman?"
They stood up and went to the nursery, where all the Brandon children were playing.
Hertford knew that the happy environment won't last long.
The eldest Brandon child is five, he mused to himself. Another four or five years until she leaves the nursery for good? Perhaps have her own household? Charles must know that his eldest daughter must have a household of her own! The younger ones can share, but it is traditional for a girl from great noble houses to be given special privileges! The boys will have to leave home of course. Perhaps to be fostered under influential and powerful Councillors? The younger ones might have to leave for Wales with Prince Edward when he's old enough to marry and govern that principality. The girls might be sent abroad to be educated. The Whore and her equally whoring sister were. Perhaps the King remembers that and will refuse to allow his granddaughters to depart for a different kingdom.
"Children," said Mary, as all her special darlings stood up and curtsied/bowed respectfully to her and Charles. "Please greet and address our…friend, Edward Seymour, 1st Earl of Hertford. He has been asking to meet you for a while now."
Hertford felt curious eyes linger on him.
He smiled at them rather forcefully.
The girl furthest to his left (and probably the eldest-Lady Katharine) had beautiful deep blue eyes and lustrous auburn curls. She had a serious expression-too solemn for a five year old-and was of a perfect stature. The boy next to her (Charles Brandon, Earl of Lincoln?) was of similar height with dark brown hair and a slightly lighter tone of brown eyes. He looked at Hertford inquisitively-like what children do. The last standing Brandon children were the three year old twins, Lord Henry Brandon and Lady Mary. Hertford's eyes fell upon the bride-in-question; Lady Mary.
She was petite and exquisite, her wide light blue eyes looking intently at him, painted onto her small face framed with radiant locks of auburn-goldish hair.
Beside her were the younger Brandon children sitting on the ground.
"Yes," said Hertford, turning to Mary and Charles. "The Lady Mary Brandon will do fine. Lady Katharine is a beauty and will be exactly like you and the late Queen Catherine. She will be a wonderful wife, but I have decided to have Lady Mary as my daughter-in-law. She is young, and I have no desire to rip her away from you. My son will be raised alongside her as planned, and when she is fifteen, I will request her to join the Seymour family residence in Wolf Hall or another palace."
"Why not Lady Isabella?" asked Mary. "Age wise, she is more suitable."
"Ah, but she looks more Plantagenet and like a Seymour. I always hope that my descendants will have a hair colour that is unusual for an English noblewoman. Perhaps black or auburn? Of course Lady Mary is also your second daughter, I believe."
"Hertford. I'm sure there is another reason why you prefer Lady Mary over Lady Isabella. I will ignore it for now, but the truth will be out soon enough. What about her dowry? Lady Mary has powerful blood in her veins. What do you propose?"
"Nothing much…yet."
"I will give you the deadline of next week."
"Or?"
"We shall look elsewhere for a husband for Lady Mary. I'm sure there are other, more reliable nobles that will love to marry her. Maybe even a relative of Charles V? Hertford, you have a week to decide whether having one of my daughters as a daughter-in-law is worth it after all. I don't care what the dowry is, but I want Sir Thomas and the Poles back now."
Impressed and a little shocked at Mary's behaviour, Hertford bowed and departed, hoping all his plans would reach fruitation.
"Welcome back to Court," said Henry VIII grudgingly. "If it was up to me, I'll chop your head off right this second! Lucky for you Sir Thomas, my wife wanted you back."
Sir Thomas nodded and remained silent, his mind buzzing with questions like locusts.
"You are to remain banished from my sight," Henry VIII continued. "You may stay at Court for a few weeks, but I want you to stay away from everyone, and you will not be allowed to join the rest of the Court for feasts and hunts. Your family will remain in the countryside and you may not go to them unless I decide you can. I don't want to hear another word about your treasonous exploits, or else my wife wouldn't be able to save your head from rolling down the hill. Before you leave, I want you to thank Her Majesty for her merciful words that allowed your safe return."
"I thank Your Majesty for pleading on my behalf," said Sir Thomas, bowing to Jane. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. Congratulations on your son, the blessed Prince of Wales. You are truly favoured by God who showered you with fertility for bringing a son to the world."
Jane smiled and nodded politely at him.
Hertford leant against the door, witnessing the whole scene.
It wasn't long before Sir Thomas was dismissed.
"Sir Thomas," said Hertford, joining him in the corridor. "What a pleasure to see you back. It is kind of my sister to plead on your behalf, was it not?"
"I wonder why the Queen wanted me back," said Sir Thomas casually. "We never had a decent, memorable, proper conversation before. Are you positive that it was the Queen who wanted to see my return, or could it be yours or your brother's? We have our differences, and I believe religion is a milestone for our ah, possible friendship."
"Let's just say that a Seymour wanted you back."
"For what purpose? A type of banishment? I've been exiled in Rome for a few months!"
"We are both Catholics."
"I am a Catholic, and you claim to be a Catholic. Your royal nephew will obviously be raised by Protestant heretics like that snake Cromwell and Cranmer. What do you want of me? To have me burnt at the stake and made a martyr? Either way, I prefer to be back in Rome where I don't have to mingle with heretics or ambitious false Catholics."
"I only helped a…friend."
"Who?"
"The Princess Mary and I had came to an agreement which somehow included you. One of her
daughters will marry my eldest son if I can somehow bring you back to England alive."
"You agreed to help the Princess?"
"Who knows? Maybe she won't be the Princess soon enough. If my sister is able to have sons, perhaps she'll have a daughter."
"Let's not discuss that yet."
"Are you speaking treason against my sister?"
"If you think of it that way. You're an intelligent and shrewd man, Hertford. You know as well as I do, that if you want me dead, the Princess will sever all ties with you and view you and your family as her enemies. I can promise you that."
Hertford laughed a little for no particular reason uneasily. He knew Sir Thomas told the truth. If he wanted the alliance with the Brandons, he would be forced to have an unsteady (and hopefully temporary) treaty with Sir Thomas.
He knocked on a door.
It opened and Mary came out, a smile on her face when she noticed Sir Thomas. Even though he was confused and a little irritated at the sudden turn of events, Sir Thomas smiled broadly at her. Her smile vanished when she saw Herford.
"I have brought you the man you seek," said Hertford, flashing her a lazy grin. "The dowry for the Lady Mary had been decided upon as a thousand five hundred pounds as I told you a week after I proposed the match. Unfortunately, my sister only has one son. One son equals one major favour. Your Pole friends will have to remain in exile a little longer. I promise you that they'll return shortly. Now, Princess. What do you say? Sir Thomas is back, and he is as alive as any man, and without any inflicted injury. Will the betrothal be told to the King by the both of us? Will your husband, the Duke of Suffolk be with us when we announce to the King the news?"
"Lady Mary is the chosen bride?" said Sir Thomas, his eyebrows raised.
"Yes," said Hertford pleasantly. "Why is it so surprising?"
Sir Thomas looked at Mary questioningly.
"Reasons I will tell you over dinner tomorrow night," she told him. "Charles will inform you about it as well. You shall join us of course. Why don't you return to your chambers? We shall talk more about it later on. Hertford, fetch your child. I shall retrieve Lady Mary. Together (with Charles), we will go to the King and ask permission for the betrothal. Your wife should be with us too."
"Yes," agreed Hertford. "The King is in a jolly good mood at the moment. Even if Sir Thomas is in his bad books (no offense Sir Thomas), he is pleased to see his old friend back at Court. Where is your husband anyway? Is he with you?"
"He's with his friends," replied Mary. "Somewhere in the castle."
Hertford pushed his way into her chambers and sat on a comfortable-looking chair.
Sir Thomas and Mary looked at each other and shrugged.
At the moment, Hertford was powerful.
One day he will fall from his high position and tumble down the hill…
"Mary!" called Charles, striding into the room. "Where are you?! Have you heard the news? I just heard from Knivert that-"
He stopped and his mouth dropped open when he saw Sir Thomas.
"Charles," said Sir Thomas dryly. "I guess rumours don't fly around Court as fast as it used to be. You and Mary have powerful friends to convince our King to allow me to return. I doubt I'll live to see the birth of your first grandchild, but at least I'll die in one piece in England with my family and friends. Lord Hertford and Princess Mary were waiting for you to ask permission for a betrothal between Viscount Beauchamp and Lady Mary."
"Of, of course," said Charles, recovering from shock. "We were in the courtyard, watching the younger boys practise their archery. I'm um, sorry to keep you waiting, Mary. I had no idea that you two were planning to announce the betrothal today!"
"It was sudden," Hertford smirked.
"Very," said Sir Thomas, his thoughts transforming slowly into his more humanist views. "I'm glad you have all your future plans sorted together. Hertford, I congratulate you with your choice of bride for your darling son. I will go back to my rooms and leave you three in peace. Princess, I will be honoured to join you at dinner tomorrow night."
He bowed and left.
"This marriage better be secure," growled Hertford, his eyes flashing with anger. "I begged and pleaded for the King to allow that bloody humanist's return and for what? To be insulted by him?! Princess Mary, is there a reason you desperately want him back?!"
"Of course I'll ensure the marriage will continue," said Mary sweetly. "We are after all, friends. Aren't we, Hertford? Why would I break it now?"
Hertford glanced at her suspiciously but said nothing.
The three of them stood up and walked at a leisurely pace to the King.
With them were the Countess of Hertford, Mimi and Viscount Beauchamp.
"What a large party," said Henry VIII, looking with interest as they approached him. "What can I do for you, My Pearl? I see you've brought one of your daughters with you. Which one is she? Is it young Kate or is Bella? I can never remember their names!"
"Neither, dear father," said Mary carefully. "It's my second child, Lady Mary. She is little Harry's twin sister. Lord Hertford, Charles and I have been talking. Your marriage with Queen Jane is approved by many and blessed with the Almighty's favour by already granting the Queen a son. The three of us thought it would be appropriate if we further connect our bloodlines through a marriage between Lord Hertford's eldest son and our second daughter, Lady Mary. We are here to ask you for permission to allow the betrothal between Viscount Beauchamp and Lady Mary."
Henry VIII was speechless.
A match between young Viscount Beauchamp and Lady Mary?!
An alliance between the Seymours and Brandons sealed securely with a marriage?!
"Of course I grant you permission!" he said joyfully. "It won't be long before you become the Duke of Somerset, Hertford. Your son will be the Earl of Hertford! Before they marry and truly become man and wife, I will announce that your children will be Princes and Princesses! Yours too, Mary! That way the children will be more royal."
"That is impossible," said Hertford carefully. "Your Majesty, you are the King, and the Princess Mary is your daughter, but I have no royal blood in my veins. My sister is your Queen, and you are my royal brother-in-law. I have no direct royal blood."
"You are the Queen's brother! Your children deserve the title of Prince or Princess!"
"The people will not approve of it."
"I will distribute free wine to them for compensation!"
"If Your Majesty insists."
"I cannot allow my grandchildren to be merely noblemen! Especially if they are going to be related to the future King of England. There will be feasts to celebrate the engagement, don't you agree? There will be a small feast tonight to announce to the Court, and when they are older, another celebration will be needed! Does the Queen know?"
"Not yet. We wanted to ask your permission first."
Henry VIII smiled broadly and laid back against his throne, in a much better mood than before. All his irritation and annoyance at Sir Thomas had disappeared.
"Princess Mary," greeted Jane, as Mary was summoned to her chambers. "I am pleased you can visit me at a time like this. You are, after all pregnant."
A year had passed, and Mary became pregnant.
Again.
It had been a habit for Mary to find herself with child every year. The whole Court regularly expected her to be pregnant and it even became a source of entertainment for courtiers to gamble and bet on the gender of the child.
"I would've stayed in Westhorpe Hall," admitted Mary. "The infant will be a Winter child, and it'll be best to be near warm fires and stay indoors, but I've heard rumours that Chapuys is ill, but had refused to be treated by English physicians or to retire back to Spain. Delft is a capable ambassador, but he's no Chapuys. I hope he is alright and not critically ill. Do you know where he may be? I haven't talked to him in quite a long time."
"In his chambers?" suggested Jane.
"What is it that you wish to see me about? I will visit him a little while later. He is probably resting, and I can't keep you waiting now that I am here."
"A year had passed and I'm not pregnant. Prince Edward is perfectly healthy, but what will happen if there's no royal baby in the cradle this year? Will I be discarded? You know as well as I do that the King is constantly worried about stocking the nursery with legitimate Tudor male heirs. Now that he has a Prince of Wales, he's keen on having a Duke of York before Christmas!"
"He will probably find a mistress."
"No. What about me?"
"I don't know, Your Majesty. You will probably be respected and loved as Queen of England. You are still the mother of the heir. You have succeeded in having a son, while my mother and Anne Boleyn failed miserably. You have no need to worry about your future."
"Will you stay by me if I am discarded? I never wanted to be Queen. You probably think that as silly and odd, but it is the truth. I have no desire to be the King's wife and bear the burden of having sons. I truly want a beautiful daughter to embrace and care for as my own. The King has refused to allow me to take care of Prince Edward."
Mary patted her shoulder sympathetically.
She hoped her father would've stopped dreaming of the ideal Tudor family, stocked with a brood of healthy sons, but it seemed unlikely.
The door opened and Mary looked up.
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened…
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