Chapter 25 – In which I got married

If my secret and highly inappropriate encounter with George Boleyn has led you to believe that I would now speak about lovey-dovey stuff, I am sorry to disappoint you. While it might be true that a story about two star-crossed lovers would be nice, it surely wasn't what I had come to England for. And besides, I didn't even feel like that. After the initial shock about my own undue behaviour had waned, I sat down quietly and pondered the matter in a more rational manner. The conclusion I reached was that, while I truly somehow felt a little attraction towards George Boleyn, I clearly didn't love him or harbour any other feelings big enough to ruin all my plans for.

There was much more important business ahead, anyway. Had I paid more attention during my school years, I might have seen it coming. But I didn't, and now I had to act quickly, since Europe was drowning in war again. France and Spain were at each other's throats. The famous Franco-Turkish alliance had reached new heights as King Francis and my cousin, the Emperor, fought over the Italian states. The French had not been able to capture Genoa, but were currently on the loose in northern Italy, plundering, besieging and rampaging.

My dear cousin and ally Mary, governess of the Netherlands, had sent letters pleading for English support. Now was the time to act, she said, before the unholy alliance of Christians and Muslims would proceed. While I didn't agree with her antipathy towards the Turks, I remembered from my history lessons that a truce would eventually be struck. If Mary and I interfered now, we might just make it look like the peace settlement was our merit.

Fortunately, the idea of war with France agreed with my father.

"They'll get what they deserve. And Francis, that snake. He pretended to be Anne's friend when we last met, but in her hour of need, he abandoned her," the King ranted. Then, as if his anger had exhausted him, he stopped pacing around and dropped into an armchair. "My councillors are urging me to remarry."

I, too, stopped walking around and sat by him. "So soon?"

"The six months of mourning are over. They worry about the succession in case of war, they say," he sighed. Suddenly he turned angry. "To bloody hell with them, I say!"

"Why would they urge you, their sovereign lord, to do anything that bothers your conscience?"

"True," he agreed furiously. "How dare they presume to dictate my behaviour? How dare they assume I would not act in England's best interest? Of course I know of the uncertainties my succession would pose! Your brother is but an infant, and my only son at that. I know. I know! But how can it change what I feel?"

Gently, I touched his arm to calm him down. "I can understand your troubles, Father. It is presumptuous and unreasonable that they should force your hand. And unnecessary at that. If it is sons your noblemen crave so much, they need not bother you."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Father, I am of an age to marry now. My union with Duke Philipp has but to be formalized. And was it not agreed that he would forsake his German titles and estates to become your subject? Would that not make him an Englishman, a Tudor, and our offspring as much your blood as your own sons?" I tried hard to sound convincing. "If it is royal sons they wish, let them come from my womb. I can give you grandsons to strengthen our dynasty."

"Mary…"

"Do not deny it, Father. We should hasten the wedding. It would also bring us Philipp's troops, which we could put to good use."

He took my hand in his. "I cannot ask this of you, my pearl. After all that you… that we have been through this year, you deserve a splendid wedding feast, not an impromptu ceremony."

"We're at war, Your Majesty," I dared to remind him. "My vain pleasures can wait until the wounds of Europe are mended once more. A modest ceremony, before the eyes of God and witnesses, shall suffice until then."

I expected him to object again, but instead he smiled sadly and caressed my cheek.

"You're so strong… It is my fault, sweetheart," he said softly. "I have tossed you into these dark waters because I needed you, and paid for it with your happiness."

"Your Majesty has done nothing wrong. I am sure your grandmother, Lady Beaufort, went through much greater hardships, as did your own mother during her childhood days. It is the burden of royalty to sacrifice our happiness for that of everyone else and it does not trouble me. I was willing to wed the Duke before, and still am. The circumstances matter little to me."

"My girl." Henry softly patted my hair. "Strong like your mother."

I must say, I was genuinely surprised to hear him praise Catherine of Aragon after all that had happened. But perhaps, since he had been taught a lesson in humility and she was still alive, they would be able to mend their relationship sooner or later. Not back into love, but perhaps into mutual admiration.

"I'll send for the Duke, then, and have the papers drawn up. You can be wed before Christmas, child, if it be your wish."

"Yes, Father. May I write to my mother and tell her of the news?"

Henry hesitated for a second, but then he nodded. "Of course. She'll be very pleased to hear about it. After all, she has been nagging me for years to get you wed. Though I guess she is not overly pleased with your chosen husband…"

"Not at all," I corrected him. "When we last spoke, she assured me that my happiness was her first concern, not political matters."

"Then her marriage to God has truly changed her heart," my father concluded. "And she has proven a dutiful subject so far. Perhaps I should reward her by inviting her to witness your wedding. Unofficially, of course, for I cannot risk anyone saying she was still my wife."

"Of course," I agreed hastily. "Your Majesty is very generous. I am sure my mother will cherish this gift for what it is and not cause any disturbances."

I'd make sure she would, I promised myself. This chance was too precious to be wasted on childish trifles between my father and mother. Anne's death might just prove to be the remedy for their broken relationship if I played my cards well.

And so I wrote to my mother, telling her all about my upcoming nuptials, and I also wrote letters to my friends. My cousin Mary wouldn't be able to attend, of course, but I was sure she would be happy for me and send her regards. Her namesake, Mary Fitzroy, would also probably not attend, since her husband was still seriously ill. Shortly after Queen Anne's 'death', I had sent physicians to the Fitzroy estates, remembering that historically, he too would soon be dead. So far, they had managed to preserve his life, but the reports I received made me wonder how long I would be able to cheat fate. Perhaps he was destined to die no matter what I did.

There was one person, however, that I wanted to attend, even though I could not be seen together with her – Anne Stanhope. And much to my delight, I received a positive reply and was able to meet again with her, albeit in secret. Country life seemed to agree with her, for despite the harsh cold of November outside, her cheeks were rosy and plump. She told me about her daughter and the manor she was now mistress of, and as she spoke I realized how much I had changed her. Real life Anne had been cold, conniving and aspiring, and while I could still see parts of it in her, she was no longer the same. The woman who, in real life, would haughtily demand that her former friend, Dowager Queen Katherine Parr, would bow to her as the wife of the Lord Protector, was not the woman sitting before me. My Anne Stanhope had received what she wanted without becoming a heartless bitch, and she had achieved it all far earlier than in history. Apparently, it had softened her soul.

"I'm so glad you came," I told her before we parted again. "Speaking to you has assured me in the knowledge that the path I am to go down is good and true."

Anne smiled. "Were you ever in doubt?"

"I, um…" How could I tell her that entering an arranged marriage seemed alien to me because, in my time, people married for love? She would never understand.

"Don't worry, you're doing what is best. You always have," Anne reassured me laughing. "It is the reason I chose to side with you, to follow you, to put my trust in you. Whatever you do, it comes out for the best. God clearly smiles upon you, my Princess."

"You're exaggerating," I scolded her.

"Which is exactly what you need. I know, I was a blushing maiden too before I wed. The feeling will pass."

I smiled and thanked her, carefully trying to hide the fact that I was no blushing maiden at all. While I had lived many years in Mary's shoes now, I still remembered the time when I had been a modern woman. I hadn't lived a life of chastity, then. I wasn't afraid of what was to come, although I had to pretend to be in front of everyone. It wasn't too hard, though, since I was somehow afraid still – that I would be awkward. I knew I liked Philipp, and that he liked me, but I had never been intimate with a man I had not been passionately in love with. And besides, while I wasn't technically a virgin, Mary's body was. I tried hard to remember whether it would actually hurt. The whole situation was weird, but hey, I chose it. I would not be deterred now.

And so, in December 1536, I walked down the aisle of the royal chapel at Whitehall. As was promised, it wasn't a splendid affair, only the most important noblemen and some of the clergy had come to witness. The King was there to give me away, and amidst the clerical witnesses, my mother stood with tears in her eyes. The only important noblemen not to follow the invitation were the Duke of Norfolk, who was currently mustering our troops at Dover, and Lord Rochford, for which I was truly grateful. Looking at George Boleyn would have made the whole ordeal even more awkward than it was.

There was a small banquet with some dancing and jest, but only for one evening. I sat and drank, received warm wishes from nobles and courtiers, and then withdrew with the stranger who was now my husband. And, say what you will about the Germans, Philipp certainly wasn't a bad choice.

"I would be alone with my wife. Your help is not needed in this," he ordered out the ladies and grooms who had escorted us to our room. His voice was that of a battle-seasoned war commander – there was no room for objection.

I watched in awe as they withdrew, studying Philipp's silhouette while nervously poking around in the fireplace. When they were gone, he dropped the stern face and turned to me smiling.

"Finally. I was beginning to believe this would never end," he sighed and slowly approached me. Somehow, he must have noticed my jumpiness. "Are you unwell?"

"Me? I… no, I am fine. A little tipsy, perhaps," I hastened to reply and smile. "But I am… unsure."

Philipp stopped at arm's length. The fire drew dancing shadows on his face. "You chose me, Princess, because you said you trusted me. Is that still the case?"

"Yes."

"Then there is nothing you need to be afraid of. I am not your enemy, nor will I ever be. I'll do my best never to hurt you, as I promised when you approached me about this marriage. But if you now wish for it to be in name only, an alliance for political purposes, I…"

I stepped forward, somehow humiliated by the way he tried to comfort me. Shaking my head violently, I took his hands into mine. "It wouldn't be a true marriage then. A true marriage must be consummated, especially if one wishes for heirs."

"And do you?," Philipp asked tentatively.

"I, um… my father clearly is in need of heirs, and I… uh," I stammered, clearly not going anywhere with my thoughts. Forget this shit, I thought, you're a woman grown! Just act like the woman you are and be done with it. "Philipp, I'm not afraid of you or this. I just don't know what to do, and I'll be needing your guidance. I know saying this doesn't sound very romantic, but it is the truth."

He smiled and slowly began to come closer to my face. "I find the truth to be rather compelling at times. For example, it would be nothing but the truth if I told you just how radiant you have been looking the entire evening. Every man fought hard to keep his eyes off you."

I returned the smile. This was flirting, and although I hadn't done it in so many years, it still came back naturally. Tilting my head to invite him, I replied: "Did they? Well, they are to be pitied then, for there is only one man who can have me."

Philipp's lips touched mine immediately after that, but only for the beat of a heart, before he withdrew again. He still remained very close, however, so I could feel his breath on my skin.

"And who would that lucky man be, I wonder," he whispered.

I chuckled. "Did no one tell you?"

"No," he sighed in pretend and placed a kiss on my cheek. His hands began pull me into a soft embrace. "I would forever be indebted to you if you told me."

I closed my eyes and allowed him to proceed. "On a night like this, if asked so nicely, can a lady say no?"

"On a night like this, can a princess say no," Philipp rhetorically returned as his fingers approached the lacing of my corset.

"Not this princess," I said breathlessly. "At least not to her husband."

"He must be a very lucky man, then, if you consent to him."

Philipp's attention returned to my face as he looked me in the eyes, clearly waiting to hear from me that I agreed with his intentions.

"I consent," I whispered, and then he kissed me again, this time more forceful and passionate.

It wasn't love. But it wasn't bad either.

Even though I had dreaded this arranged marriage, it now felt quite endurable to me. In the days after our wedding, Philipp and I were granted many hours alone to become acquainted. And we certainly did become acquainted… quite often. What can I say? He wasn't a bad choice as husband.

During Christmas, we had Edward and Elizabeth come to court, and for a while, even my father seemed to be happy again. He had us all sit on the dais with him: he in the middle, with infant Edward in his arms, me by his right side with Elizabeth on my lap, and Philipp to his left.

"Je suis en familie," he proclaimed joyfully.

Only the Queen was missing now, and I would make sure she returned soon. My father had suffered long enough, and according to my spies, even Cromwell now doubted that working against the Queen had been such a good idea. Perhaps I could bring her back when my father returned from Europe, where he planned to go alongside Philipp's army and his own English troops.

"You know I hate to leave you alone, my pearl, and without your husband at that," the King told me before he departed in January. "But you do know that I need him with me."

"That was the point of my marriage, was it not? To get Philipp's military support," I replied smiling.

"Not only that," my father teased back and looked at my stomach. "Is there… any sign?"

I blushed. It felt uncomfortable to be asked about such private matters, but in Tudor times, privacy was very much non-existent.

"Not as of yet, but it has barely been a month. Perhaps we'll know when you return. So please, Father, make sure to return safely, both you and Philipp. I have no wish to be an orphan or a widow so soon."

Henry bent over to kiss my forehead. "I do so swear, sweet child. I promise to see my grandchildren take their first steps, and to teach them archery myself. But until then, we'll teach the French a lesson or two."

"I shall pray for your success day and night," I assured him smiling. "And of course I'll care for my siblings, and for England."

"You need not worry, sweetheart. I know how much I burdened you by naming you my regent when I mourned the Queen. I'll not place the same harsh burden on you again."

My heart stopped at these words. What? He would not make me regent again while he was abroad? But my whole plan on returning Queen Anne from the dead rested on it!

"What… who…"

"I wanted to leave it to your uncle Suffolk, but he insisted on joining me on the battlefield. As in the good old days," Henry explained.

"Did I displease you? Have I given Your Majesty cause to distrust me?"

"Oh Mary," he sighed and put his hands on my shoulders. "Not in the least! But you are a woman, a young one at that, and might even be expecting. Defending a country is no easy feat and I would not put it only to you to protect England against her enemies. I have sent for your other uncle, Lord Rochford, to be your co-regent while I am away."

My face must have turned snow white, I guess. My father clearly expected me to be grateful and rejoice, but this was by far the worst possible outcome to my mind.

"He has arrived this morning. I have requested his presence here, so I could tell you and him together. Guards! Send in Lord Rochford!"

I stood beside the council table like a rock, unable to move or think. In silent horror I watched as George Boleyn entered, was embraced by my father, and then proceeded towards me.

"Your Highness, such a pleasure to see you again. Happy New Year, and may I also apologise for missing your wedding? You are to be congratulated."

"Thank you," I mustered to squeeze out my lips.

"And I am pleased to finally have you back, George," the King interrupted. "It has been too long, but no more. You are a peer of this realm, and as such, I demand your service."

George turned around and nodded. "Whatever Your Majesty requires of me shall be done."

"As you know, I will soon be leaving for the continent to punish the wicked Turks and their French allies. God be good we can send this Barbarossa back to the wasteland whence he came," my Father declared. "In my absence, I have decreed my eldest daughter, the Princess Mary, to be regent alongside one of my most trusted noblemen… you, Lord Rochford."

George clearly hesitated, although I couldn't see his face. Then he remembered his good manners and bowed before the King.

"Your Majesty is too generous. I am honoured."

"If I wanted to honour you, George, I'd have given you estates. I want you to rule my country and aid my daughter, for there are few men in this realm I can trust as I can trust the two of you. England will need all of your wits. Can you do this for me?"

"It shall be a dutiful honour for me, then," George replied. "And may I say that I feel twice honoured to stand beside such a formidable woman as you, Princess Mary? It has been too long since we last spoke. I hope we can make up for it in the months to come."

Henry seemed a bit puzzled, and I felt I was getting angry. What was George hinting at? Was he mad? His words could give all our schemes away. And for what? To tease me because of a kiss?

"I would love to spend more time with you, Uncle George, seeing that I shall have little other family left in England. The two men most dear to my heart will be gone," I replied and smiled at my father.

"The King and your husband, yes," George interjected before Henry had a chance to respond. "I trust marriage agrees with you?"

"Apparently, it does," I returned sharply. "How is your wife, by the way?"

He didn't answer now. Instead, he smiled bitterly, bowed before my father and asked to be excused. The King allowed him and watched him go. Although he didn't speak a word, I knew he had sensed the oddness of my exchange with George, but he chose not to address the matter. Perhaps he didn't think it was more than casual banter, or perhaps he didn't actually want to know what was going on.

But I knew, and I knew I would be in great trouble once my father and Philipp left. Apparently, fate always found a way to mess with me.