The Second Tudor King
Chapter 14
23rd February 1524
Whitehall Palace, the Duke and Duchess of Somerset, Earl and Countess of Hereford's Apartments
It was two days after the mass celebration that had been held for Queen Anne's birthday, the court had been alive with joyfulness and splendour for the remarkable woman's birthday yet Catherine was more than relieved to finally have been able to retire to her chambers with her young daughter of now eight years, laughing as Mary practised her Spanish, Catherine occasionally chipping in hints or joking in her native language.
Another thing that the Queen's birthday had been used for was the announcement of another royal pregnancy, upon that news Catherine had laughed and told her friend that her and Edmund should dance more often; as that was the night that Anne believed the pregnancy had happened and was also under similar circumstances when the Princes Elizabeth, a healthy, happy baby of five months, had been conceived.
And had also only caused Henry more anger, no doubting imaging the what ifs, if he could have got his divorce, if his brother hadn't of fallen in love with the woman he had been infatuated with, if Elizabeth and this unborn child had been his.
With brought her to this very moment, when Henry, stumbling and clearly intoxicated, moved to Catherine with a pointed hand raised.
"You," he hissed out, inching closer in such a way that Mary gave out a cry of fear causing Catherine to shield the little girl behind her in fear of what her drunk husband may do, "you will give me my annulment! NOW!"
Catherine held her head up, as tall and as proud as she was when she was in Spain as it's youngest, beloved Infanta and when she was once destined to be the Queen of England, "I will do no such thing. Our marriage was made in good faith, Henry, and what of Mary?"
"She is a bastard," Henry declared angrily as he closed in the space between him and Catherine, ignoring the cries of little Mary for what her darling papa had called her.
Catherine had a sharp intake of breath as she began, "how dare yo-,"
Only the words never made their way out of her mouth when she was struck to the floor with a resounding smack, Mary's cry of distress ringing in her ears. She could barely believe it when her young daughter stepped in front of her body, eyes shining with tears, tear tracks going down her cheeks but glaring at Henry, "get out, you hurt my mama. Go!"
Henry took one step closer to the young girl, whose fear and boldness all but deserted her as he approached, but instead turned on his heel and left the room with a slam of the door, leaving Mary and Catherine to cry together, Catherine unable to contain the yearning for the man she once knew from what he had become; the man of whom one of her spies had confirmed would probably be heading to the chambers of the Lady Jane Seymour within these moments, the woman of whom had given herself to her husband two months previously. And if a babe was to come from that union, nobody would be able to save her from what Henry would plan.
Of that she was most certain.
ET-ET-ET-ET
4th March 1524
Whitehall Palace Gardens
Together, Anne and Edmund wondered through the wonders that they called Whitehall Palace Gardens, Edmund grinning as he saw Anne admire a stunning red rose and vowed that he would pick a bunch from his own hand and put them upon her bed side table for when she woke up that morning.
It was Anne who finally broke the silence with a frown and a sigh as she stated, "I don't want to get fat."
Edmund laughed to her words earning himself her glare as he silenced any further protest with a chaste kiss to the lips that rivalled the scarlettness of the rose that she had been admiring, "I think you're beautiful no matter what."
"I'm already showing though, why couldn't this pregnancy be like Elizabeth's and have me not show until four months along?"
His laughter filled the air once more, Anne smiling at the mere sound of it, "perhaps it is a sign of a boy, my love, already wanting to show himself off to the world."
Anne could not help but snort, "any child of yours will want to show themselves to the world, Edmund, I have never seen such a child that is such a good poser and attention lover as our Elizabeth."
"I do believe she gets that from you, my love, not I," at her stare of disbelief the two cracked up once more, grins upon their faces as they looked to one another.
Edmund closed the distance between them so that his chin lay upon her head before he placed a kiss upon her forehead and told her, "you could have a thousand wrinkles and be the size of Whitehall Palace, my love, and you would still be the most beautiful woman in my eyes. You are intelligent, you are stubborn, you are loyal, you are determined, you are strong minded, you are wilful, you are unpredictable, you are loving, you are devoted, you make me smile upon my worst days, you are my light upon the darkest days. I love you for you Anne, even if your beauty is beyond compare."
She wrapped her arms around him, breathing in the musky scent of leather that he had upon his white top for such a casual stroll within the gardens and felt herself fall in love all over again.
ET-ET-ET-ET
8th March 1524
Whitehall Palace, Unknown Room
"What has the Emperor said, Ambassador Chapuys?" William Brereton queried as he and the Ambassador, Eustace Chapuys, met in yet another deserted room within the moved court, now at Whitehall.
"He has said," Eustace Chapuys began with a heaving sigh, "that his Aunt, Catherine, has written to him and told him of what a valuable ally she will be to Spain and of their close friendship therefore the Emperor has agreed to take no movement. He will most definitely not be acknowledging the presence of Anglicanism in England and he will not actively recognise this new Queen until he has to but nor will he go against her, not when his Aunt has her as a valuable ally in her and Mary's welfare."
Brereton, though more than a little miffed by the Emperor's clear avoidance of truly accepting that it was God's will to have the harlot dead, he nodded his head and stated to Eustace, "so we are by ourselves within this deed."
The Spanish Ambassador nodded in agreement and waited, thinking a moment, before a gleeful smile took over his face, "on the 10th of this month, in two days' time, the Queen, King, Henry, Catherine and all of the Queen's immediate family currently at court will be going to the towns of London to try to win more favour for the Queen after the outbreaks in protest with the new religion. It will be a perfect time to strike. Tell me, Brereton, do you have a gun?"
"No," Brereton stated with a shake of his head, yet a sinister smile took hold of his face, "but I know where I can get one."
ET-ET-ET-ET
10th March 1524
London
One day off ten weeks pregnant and already beginning to slightly show Anne was most definitely uncomfortable within the carriage that was to take her to the centre of London, finding the air most stuffy and the heat making her increasingly have the urge to puke.
When she did so, upon her father's, Thomas Boleyn's, brand new shoes she was most glad of her aim; refraining herself barely from chuckling at the slight glare upon her father's face (who had recently taken to ranting to her about her need for a son and how he needed a grandson that would rule so he would become a Duke, and perhaps, at the King's early demise, a Lord Protector, Anne had been most outraged by his latter conclusion and was swift to send him on his way, away from her chambers).
When the carriage finally stopped and she was helped out she was greeted by some confused, few slightly joyous and many rather hostile faces of the people currently in the area. She was not surprised for it was a Sunday and they had rather carelessly stopped outside a large, Catholic church.
Sighing she, with Edmund appearing by her side and a large bag within her hand, she tried to walk as confidently as she could to a central place of where she was to deliver a speech to those who seemed only inclined to bow to Edmund, their King, and not to her.
But she was stopped by a pulling upon her robes, to see a small girl of not five with curling blonde hair looking innocently up at her, bright green eyes shining upon her dirt covered face. Many held their breath when they saw the girl's mud coated hand stain the Queen's obviously expensive silver dress and the girl's mother went to surge forwards and apologise only to be too taken aback to do anything with what happened next.
Moving carefully to a crouching position in front of the little girl Anne asked with a smile, "yes?"
The little girl did not speak a word but rather moved her hand to touch the diamond broach that the Queen wore – further worrying the people as to what the Queen's reaction would be – before withdrawing her hand gigglingly stating, "it sparkles!"
Anne grinned at the little girl and carefully moved her hands to undo the diamond broach from where it was pinned, the carefully pinning it to the girl's dirty, grey dress, moving her head back slightly as if the survey her Anne stated, "it looks far better on you anyway."
Much to Anne's shock, when she got up there was at least two thirds of the surrounding people bowing shallowly to her, the little girl herself doing a wobbly curtsey with others soon joining in as they saw the others.
Edmund had a proud smile upon his lips, for even if it had not been his generous wife's intention for that action to gain London's love it did, and such news would have the majority of England knowing within a matter of two days. It would not make her immediately beloved, not with religious changes in the way, but it would certainly diminish such stubborn dislike.
That was until yells were being heard from the crowds as the sounding of a gun fire went off, heading straight for Anne and, before anyone could react, barely missing and hitting the chest of a woman whom had stood not far from Anne's left.
Screams were heard as Edmund ran over in an attempt to protect Anne, only he did not know of which direction the gun man was aiming in with people at every side in a circle around Anne, of whom her brother rushed to protect another side that the murderer could try to shoot at.
Thomas Boleyn, however, seemed to have caught on to who it was and, before William Brereton could take aim once more, tackled the man and a struggle broke out. Edmund, checking George was still protecting Anne, rushed over to help his father-in-law in taking down the man.
"Never, ever, try to hurt my daughter or grandchild again," Edmund could hear Thomas Boleyn's protective yell as he placed hit against hit upon the man.
Only then yet another gun shot went off, and Edmund was only swift enough to catch the hooded, bruised and beaten man from trying to escape; not quick enough to stop the bullet from penetrating Thomas Boleyn's rib cage.
He watched in horror, as his father-in-law swayed before hitting the ground, barely hearing Anne's scream as she ran to his side with George, tears already working their way down each of their faces.
"Papa? Papa?" Anne cried out as her and George dropped to his side, "don't leave us."
Edmund ordered the sparse amount of guards that they had brought with them to take William Brereton – revealed much to his horror when he tore his hood from his head – to the Tower of London and to have Cromwell, a man of whom Edmund had met through other Protestants to help lead the reformation, for questioning as he stood a small distance from Anne and George, letting them be as alone as they could be to be with their father for the last time.
Thomas Boleyn's blue eyes looked from George to Anne as a lone tear escaped his eyes as he thought of how he had failed them. Neglecting George, telling Mary to give herself to Kings for his own advancement, educating Anne to manipulate and pushing her into the views of the Duke-Earl and King to advance himself even further. He had failed them all, "I-I am so, so sorry," he stated, his face already going pale from the blood loss and eyes turning to pity at the looks of denial upon his children's faces, "I have failed you both."
"You haven't, father," George denied as Anne stated, most tearfully,
"You cannot go, Elizabeth needs you, my unborn child needs you, mother needs you, Mary needs you, George needs you, I need you."
He reached a hand out to his youngest daughter's cheek and gave her his best, small smile as he thought of how he had even failed the child that he had often proclaimed to be his favourite, "I love you all."
And with that drew the last breath of Thomas Boleyn, Earl of Wiltshire, mother to Anne Boleyn, Mary Boleyn and George Boleyn, husband to Elizabeth Howard and grandfather to Catherine Carey, Henry Carey and Elizabeth Tudor.
A man with a cold heart, one that nobody knew that his children had thawed a long time ago.
Does Catherine have much to worry about? Will Jane become with child? Did you like Thomas Boleyn turning good in the end? What will Anne's child be? What will names be? What will Chapuys do next? What will the Seymours plot?
Find out in future chapters and review what you think :)
Have a great day/night,
-LadyHallows
P.S no review replies in this chapter as I did it straight after chapter 13 but if there are any then I'll reply to them in chapter 15 :)