Chapter Thirteen

Dear Mary

The news of your situation has reached my ears and I will not speculate on the turn of these current events until I have confirmation from you on what exactly happened. In light of such a predicament it is my duty to inform you that I will not fail you, but nothing much can be done until you have delivered yourself of your burden. I will send Lady Elizabeth Darrel to accompany you and your household of Rochford to be of comfort to you during your pregnancy and childbirth. It will be easier for correspondence this way. You can tell your husband upon her arrival that she is a good friend of yours and for your health insist that she be at your side. Have courage my daughter, the true princess of England. Burn the letter when you finish reading it.

Yours Truly

Katherine the Queen.

Mary swallowed hard as she read over its contents feeling conflicting emotions rise within her. She was glad that her mother had written to her and didn't appear to be angry, but what would happen once her mother learned the truth? Wouldn't that only add to her sorrows? She had thus far failed to convince the king to send her Lady Mother to more comfortable lodgings and now that she herself was out of favour, there was nothing much she could do for her mother.

But Mary couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to read between the lines. Her mother was planning something, but what? What could she possibly do now? Her fate was sealed…

Or was it? At this point in time, Mary didn't want to think about it. Obediently she threw her mother's letter in the fireplace and watched with sadness as it burnt. However a cold dark feeling ran up her spine, which in turn made her stomach feel like a bottomless pit. As if she was not carrying a child at all. Who had brought the letter here and more importantly these cards?

As much as she hated Anne Boleyn it was still a daunting prospect to receive hints of her death especially when they came from her own mother. Sighing and deciding she was making a big deal out of nothing, Mary threw the cards into the fire and watched wordlessly as they burned.

Katherine sat quietly at the oak table as she received Ambassador Chapuys into her presence. She gave him a weak smile as he bowed to her. The king felt it was no threat for Chapuys to see her privately now it seemed, since her daughter and the very pride she lived on was now married to a Boleyn. "Eustace," Katherine said coolly making sure she kept her true emotions in check. The news had hit her hard and it had taken her a long time to compose herself and think of what to do.

"Your Majesty," he greeted back. "What news have you heard of my daughter?" She pleaded hoping he had gotten hold of any bit of idle gossip. He gave her a dry look. "Not much other than she is perfectly healthy and living with George Boleyn at Rochford," he paused for a moment and then whispered to her in Spanish.

"There are rumours going around in Kent and the North that the Lady Mary was forced to marry against her will. Some are even saying that George Boleyn raped her whenever he visited Hatfield." Katherine bit her lip and thrummed her fingers against the table. The thought of her daughter being dishonoured like that sent a stab of pain through her heart and it was most likely true, but for the sake of the throne, Mary would have to deny it. "Even so we will side with the reasoning that Mary married George of her own free will being seduced with promises of freedom from her dreary state at Hatfield." God knows, the world was still a cruel place for women. A woman who had been raped would never be able to take queenship-even the Pope would consider her corrupt.

Chapuys nodded accepting the fact. "The plans to have her taken to Spain will have to wait until after she has had her child. It matters not who her husband is now. He just needs to be moved out of the way so she can become a widower and claim the throne with a child already in the cradle." The Ambassador assessed the risks involved and the consequences if they failed, but for the sanctity of the Catholic Church, it had to be done.

"William Brereton is still at court and has wedded Jane Parker. The king arranged the match so maybe she had some idea as to what was going on, but we will have to wait and see." Katherine nodded and her expression became thoughtful. "When is the harlot's child due?" She questioned not at all pleased to find out that Anne was with child again. "Early next year Your Majesty."

Katherine frowned, but Anne was a little problem in the scheme of things. Once the king had been overwhelmed by the army she was planning to muster up, he would merely be a puppet king with her pulling the strings. Anne would be sent away to a nunnery or executed and Henry would have to recant and turn to the truth. It was the only way to save England and Henry's immortal soul because now she was quite convinced that he had gone mad. Anne had bewitched him and it was up to his true wife to set things right.

"Whatever happens it is of the most importance that Mary becomes queen, but that cannot happen while she is still married to a Boleyn."

Mary had informed her husband that Lady Elizabeth Darrel had come to wait on her during childbirth and although a bit suspicious, he had agreed wholeheartedly to allowing Lady Elizabeth to stay. It was perfectly normal to have a few ladies wait upon an expecting woman but since being banished Mary hadn't given much thought to it other than the presence of midwives. No doubt having a friend of her mother's here to comfort her especially in the horrific hours of childbirth would be a blessing.

So that was why she was standing at the front of the doors of Rochford hall, content to greet Lady Darrel herself. Dressed in a light blue gown with the bodice loosened to comfort her large belly, Mary smiled in the gentle heat of the June sun as she saw the small carriage make its way to the front gates of her new home. Her maidservants looked upon her with concern not thinking it right for a pregnant noble woman to be dawdling about in the sun to greet a woman of lesser rank.

Mary could scarcely care about their opinions when there was no one to care about her actions now. She was a banished and disgraced princess so there was no need to give too much thought to courtly etiquette and propriety. "Lady Darrel," she greeted warmly as the lady herself was led out of the carriage by one of the Boleyn grooms.

"Lady Rochford!" Elizabeth exclaimed but curtseyed down to her as if she was still a princess of the blood. Being well aware that the male Boleyn servants would most likely report this to their satanic master, Mary bid the woman to rise and linked her arm with hers to lead her inside. The servants began to unload Lady Darrel's belongings.

"I am so glad you have come," Mary whispered to her passionately and Elizabeth squeezed her hand. "I am more than ready to do the queen's bidding and honoured to serve her daughter, the Princess of Wales," she whispered back. Mary could not conceal the warm feeling that began to rise within her heart. At long last she finally had a true friend with her.

Mary took her to her chambers and ordered the servants to bring wine, sweetmeats, bread and cheese for them to munch on while they caught up. This was her mother's most loyal companion, but Mary found herself quite awed by her natural beauty. Curly blonde hair, blue-grey eyes and a sweet pale face. A true English beauty.

"How is my mother?" She questioned in earnest wondering what news there was of the true Queen of England. "Despite her age, healthy and strong and still as ever…determined." A shadow of guilt crossed Mary's face, but she quickly replaced it with a look of cordial politeness. "God speed," she whispered knowing full well it was her brazen actions at Hatfield that had put a hindrance to her mother's plans.

"She bids you to be of good cheer and not to forget who you are," Elizabeth said in a more serious tone. Mary inwardly cringed at the words knowing on several occasions she had betrayed her true position with fantasies of being a simple Lady living in peace with her Lord in the country side. Not able to think of a good enough reply, Mary mindlessly sipped some wine and wondered what the future would hold for her, her mother and her child.

Later that night, Elizabeth joined her and George for dinner and although he was a little hostile to the woman knowing her allegiance, for the sake of his wife, he spoke to her politely. But Mary was not impressed. She saw no reason or cause to be hostile to a woman who had scrubbed the floors of her mother's house like a common scullery maid because the king would not send them any money.

And so when she said she would return to her bed chambers later, leaving Elizabeth alone to undress and prepare for bed, Mary marched straight to George's room (they normally slept together but now she would be sharing her bed with Lady Darrel) and glared at him. "What?" He said mirthlessly not in the mood for a fight with his angry pregnant wife. Although she was not the cause of his current ill humour, he did not see what had given her offence.

"Must you be so condescending to anything and anyone associated with my mother?" She hissed at him. He stared back at her listlessly realizing that Mary had seen right through his cordial façade. "I kept my feelings in check didn't I? For your sake I didn't say or do anything to displease the lady and I see no reason for you to come here and bother me about it."

Though taken aback by his harsh rebuke, it did not faze her. "Why George? I have given everything up to be with you over this…this…accident and you still mistrust me?" He turned away from her and proceeded to dress himself into his night clothes. "It is not you I mistrust," he said quietly but audible enough for her to hear. Mary narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists.

"Is it so wrong of my mother locked away in some terrible house at the More to send me a lady for comfort in my time of need?" George bit his lip. When Mary put it that way, she made Katherine seem like a sorrowful mother pining for her daughter, but he was not stupid. He knew very well that the Spanish Infanta was deceptive to the last breath using her wits and education to spin toils around men and he couldn't help but feel Elizabeth Darrel's appearance was a bad omen. She was Katherine's most loyal servant after all.

"No there is nothing wrong with it," he conceded not wanting to upset the perfect harmony he had worked so hard to bring between them. "I am sorry to have given you offence my lady and that of your companion. Forgive me." Though surprised by his willingness to support her view, Mary didn't push the matter but rather wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in the curve of his back.

"Thank you," she whispered to him. He was still for several moments, but reached down to caress her hands. However his mind was still occupied. Mark Smeaton who had agreed to keep correspondence with him about things at court and any other tid bits of information had added on the side that Jane Parker had gotten married. And it was so soon.

Knowing her father it seemed she had been foisted off to the next available gentleman and George couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He didn't know what was wrong with him really. Ever since he had lain with Mary and then found out she was with child he had seemed to develop more of a conscience these days.

For someone who was a selfish greedy Boleyn perhaps it wasn't a bad thing.