Chapter 26
"Henry?"
"Hmm?" Henry glanced up from his book as Marie spoke.
"You know we're reorganising Maria's household?"
"Yes?"
"Have you thought what reason we're going to give for it?"
Henry paused, letting his book slip through his fingers and fall to his lap. "She's five, isn't she? She's old enough for lessons and companions. Do we need any other reason than that?" he chuckled, before catching himself as a thought occurred to him, "Although, we never did have her officially invested as Countess of Anjou or announced as the future Duchess of Orleans, after I got back from France, did we?"
"No. Isn't it about time we did?"
"Perhaps you're right, love. I'll organise a banquet in her honour. I'll get your uncle to escort her in before I cloak her in a Countess's robe. If she walks out after that, Picard can bring her back in to symbolise that she's a French Royal Duchess as much as an English Princess. She can dine with us under the Orleans arms. What do you think of that idea?"
"I like it very well indeed. We should choose her companions before the banquet, though, so that they can accompany her to it."
"I leave that to you, darling. Households are women's matters, really. I trust you not to choose girls who would disgrace us."
"And you won't mind if I make sure Lady Willoughby has a place in Maria's household? She was Katherine's closest friend and I believe she deserves to have a hand in raising her daughter. Besides, Maria deserves a chance to know her Spanish heritage."
Henry shrugged, momentarily biting his lip in an effort to appear unconcerned, "As long as you ensure she has a French maid or two later on. She is to be a French Princess after all."
"I will," Marie promised, before she turned the conversation straight from one awkward topic to another. Best to get them all out of the way at once, or so she thought, anyway.
"What about your son?"
"Lionel can share a household with Maria until he's six, but then we'll have to send him to Ludlow, as befits the Prince of Wales. I thought we might get Anthony to be his tutor."
"Knivert?"
"Yes. Though we'll have to make him a Baron or a Viscount first. We can't have the Prince of Wales being taught by a commoner now, can we?"
Marie shook her head, "No, and that's all well and good, but you know full well I didn't mean Lionel, Henry."
"For Christ's Sake!" Henry exploded, as the penny dropped, "I've made the boy a Duke twice over and Earl of Nottingham besides. Isn't that enough?!"
"Not if you don't raise him right. You know what Bessie's like. She'll raise him to know that he's the King's son. If we're not careful, she might well raise him to think that he's meant to be your heir, not Lionel."
"She wouldn't. She wouldn't dare," Henry protested, but he wasn't sure and it was audible in his tone. Marie cocked an eyebrow.
"You said yourself she was more ambitious than she let on. We need to make sure that, no matter how much she tries to influence Hal, she's not able to make her ideas stick."
Privately, Marie didn't really think Bessie would be able to plant such grandiose ideas into little Hal Fitzroy's head, but she wasn't a Boleyn for nothing. She wasn't above using a few tricks to get her way. She didn't do it as often as her father or siblings, which was why she was known as the honest Boleyn, but the last few months had taught her a few things. She was Queen now. Honesty and mercy would only get her so far, especially because her new power had brought her more attention than she was used to. She was far less able to slip out of people's notice than before. And she had Maria and Lionel to think of now. She'd do anything to keep them safe. Anything.
"We have to let the boys grow up together," she persisted, "We have to let them grow up together, in the same household, thinking of one another as brothers. If we can do that, whilst still always emphasising that Lionel is our heir, then, when the time comes, then when the time comes, they'll be so close that Hal won't even think about rebelling against Lionel. He'll be delighted to take his place at Lionel's Court as the Duke of Richmond and Somerset; the King's closest friend and most trusted advisor."
Henry fell silent as Marie paused for breath. She could see his mouth working furiously. She went over to him and rubbed his shoulders.
"Hal's your blood, Henry. Don't shut him out of your life just because you're angry at yourself for making a mistake with Bessie. You loved her once, there's nothing wrong with that."
"She wasn't the woman I thought she was."
"She was young, emotional. People change. I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt you."
"Well, she did. And because of my mistake with her, I can never have a peaceful life with you. Hal will always be a threat to Lionel. A year older, a year stronger, with my blood in his veins..."
"None of that need matter. Not if we bring the boys up to be friends rather than rivals."
"Fine!" Henry snapped, "Fine! Lord Richmond can go to Beaulieu, if that's what you really want. But the boys will have separate households, at least until Lionel goes to Ludlow and has companions of his own. Bessie can run Lionel's. Let her have to share a palace with Lady Bryan, Lady Salisbury and Lady Willoughby. Let her have to watch our son grow healthier day by day and know that her boy can never be in his shoes, no matter how much she'd like him to be. That ought to teach the harlot her place."
Marie gulped. This wasn't quite what she'd planned. She'd wanted the boys brought up side by side in relative harmony under Lady Bryan's care, who, she was sure, would never harm a child, no matter what its status. Henry's plan might sound more generous than hers, because it allowed Hal to stay with his mother, but it was born of fury and resentment. It would only breed resentment, at least between the women, if not the children.
She glanced down at her husband and realised in that instant that he wasn't at heart, the wise, educated King he tried to portray, and indeed, dreamed of being. At heart, he was still a wilful, capricious child who'd never known any different than having things suit his whims; who had never had to truly face the consequences of any of his actions. He required, she realised, far more careful handling than she'd ever thought possible.
"Henry," she started, recoiling when he looked up at her and she saw the fury smouldering in his eyes. She'd handled this badly enough already. Better just to make the best of it now.
"I'll make Baron Tailboys Hal's steward," she said quietly, "Then at least he and Bessie can still be together."
"As you wish," Henry nodded curtly, before rising, disgusted with himself.
It wasn't Marie he was angry at, it was Bessie. Why did she still have to poison his life, even now?
He stormed out of the room, shouting for his horse. Only a ride would clear his head now.
"My uncle will take you into the dining hall and Papa will put a special cloak around your shoulders and call you the Countess of Anjou, all right? Then you'll go back outside and meet Monsieur Picard, the French Ambassador. He'll kiss your hand and call you Madame de Orleans. Then he'll bring you back inside so you can have supper with us. The trumpets will go off as well, so you mustn't be afraid."
"I won't," Maria promised, "I'm a big girl now, Mama."
"Of course you are," Marie murmured, kissing her stepdaughter's brow, "Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mama," Maria nodded.
Marie smiled and let the little girl snuggle against her breast. Maria was such a trusting little girl. She loved holding her warm weight in her arms. She'd missed doing it during the last months of her pregnancy and her lying-in.
"Mama?"
Maria's voice would, to an outsider, have sounded sleepy, despite it only being mid-morning, but Marie knew better. Maria wasn't sleepy, she was just content.
"Yes, my darling?"
"I won't have to go to France yet, will I? I know I'm a big girl, but I don't want to go just yet."
"Oh no, sweetheart, no. You won't be going anywhere for a long while yet. Not until you're fourteen at least, and you won't be properly married until you're seventeen. I promise. After all, we can't have Lionel growing up without his big sister to be a good example to him now, can we?"
Marie ruffled her daughter's hair, but she could tell Maria wasn't really listening. Instead, she had her pert nose scrunched up in concentration.
"How old's fourteen?"
"As old as Aunt Anne is now," Marie explained, after a moment or two of having to cast about for an analogy that might make sense to the five year old.
Maria's features relaxed, "That's old!" she said complacently, and Marie had to laugh.
"It seems that way to you now, sweetheart, but trust me, it's not as old as you think it is. Now, you'd better run along with Lady Salisbury. There are some people waiting to meet you."
"Who?" Maria's eyes snapped open impatiently, but Marie only chuckled and hugged her briefly, "Run along and see."
Maria leaped off her lap and kissed her, before curtsying hurriedly and almost running out of the room in her impatience to see who was waiting for her.
There were lots of new faces in her rooms when Maria got back to them. She looked up at Lady Bury in surprise, "Who are they?"
"They're your new companions, Princess," Lady Bury explained, "Don't you remember, your parents said they were going to choose some new little girls for you to share lessons with? These are the ones they've chosen."
"Oh. But I thought Meg was going to be one of them," Maria answered, peering round the room in search of her older cousin.
"And so she is, My Lady. There she is, look."
Lady Bury pointed and Maria followed her finger with her eyes, finally seeing Meg talking to a tall girl with sandy hair.
"Meg!" she shouted and would have waved, but Lady Bury suddenly clapped her hands sharply.
"All right, girls. This is Her Highness the Princess Mary, so let's see you all line up and introduce yourselves."
It took a few moments, but the girls gradually formed a loose kind of semi-circle with two quite big girls on one end and Meg on the other. Lady Bury gestured to the first of the big girls to step forward.
She had dark, golden-brown hair and a warm smile as she curtsied, "I'm Kathryn Parr, Your Highness."
"Pleased to meet you," Maria replied, knowing she wasn't allowed to say, "I'm Maria," until Lady Bury was out of the room. She hadn't been allowed to with Meg and they were cousins.
Kathryn stepped back and the other big girl, the one with black hair, curtsied, "I'm Susan White, My Lady Princess."
Maria nodded eagerly, repeating her greeting, before turning to the next girl in line. She looked very like Kathryn, and indeed she did say, "I'm Miss Anne Parr."
The final girl between Anne and Meg bobbed excitedly when her turn came, "I'm your cousin, Frances Brandon!"
"Lady Frances!" Lady Bury said crossly, "Is that how your mother taught you to greet a Princess?"
Frances flushed and Maria instantly felt sorry for her. She turned to Lady Bury.
"Don't be cross with her, Lady Bury, please. She's only little."
Lady Bury pursed her lips, but said nothing more except, "I'll leave you all to get acquainted."
She left the room and Maria instantly turned back to Kathryn, "I'm Maria, not Princess Mary. And you're Kate, not Kathryn. I don't like long names."
"If you say so, Your Highness," Kate smiled.
"Maria," Maria corrected, "How old are you?"
"Nine, Your – Maria."
"You're big!" Maria's eyes went wide and Susan laughed, "I'm nine too, Maria. I'll be ten in September."
"I'm six," Anne interrupted.
"I'm four!" Frances cried eagerly.
"Then you're the baby," Meg replied, "You'd better be Fanny, not Frances."
"But -" Frances protested, but Maria nodded before she could say any more.
"Fanny. I like it. Meg's Meg, of course, and Susan can be Susie."
"What about me?" Anne pouted, "I want a new name too!"
Maria thought quickly, panicking as her brain refused to come up with a nickname for Anne. Luckily, Kate had an answer.
"You'll be Nannette, just like I call you at home."
Anne – Nanette's – face cleared and Maria agreed quickly, "Of course you will. Now, let's play hide and seek."
"I'll count," Susie decided, starting to do so before anyone could argue, "1...2...3...4..."
In seconds, the girls had scattered, leaving behind nothing but the ghost of their laughter ringing through the room.
The drum beat twice, startling the chattering courtiers into silence. Every eye in the hall fixated itself on the door as the herald announced, "Her Highness the Princess Mary!"
Maria glanced over her shoulder at her aunt Mary, who nodded encouragingly. Maria put her hand on the arm the Duke of Norfolk offered her and he looked down at her, "Are you ready, Princess?"
He was trying to smile, Maria could tell, but he still made her shiver. When he bared his teeth like that, he reminded her of a wolf, like the ones in the scary stories her nursemaids told her when Lady Bryan and Lady Bury weren't paying attention.
But she couldn't be scared, not now. She'd promised Mama she wouldn't be. Mama had told her time and time again how important it was that she act like a big girl tonight. She couldn't afford to be scared of the Duke of Norfolk. So she just nodded and took a step forward, feeling Aunt Mary help Meg and Frances pick up her train as she did so. Just like they'd practiced.
She went down the length of the Hall with them behind her and then the Duke of Norfolk helped her kneel down very carefully, carefully enough that she wouldn't crush her pretty dress of dark blue velvet. Royal blue, the dressmaker had called it. With gold underskirts too.
She felt the Duke of Norfolk leave her side and then Papa's herald unfurled a scroll and began to read from somewhere above her head.
"Princess Mary, it is His Majesty's Sovereign Pleasure to create thee, on this, the nineteenth day of July, in the eleventh year of his reign, Anno Domini 1521, the Countess of Anjou."
Maria peeped up at Papa, who smiled at her before lifting a crown set with diamonds, sapphires and amethysts off a cushion and holding it up high so the crowd could see it. he placed it on her head and Maria kept very still, expecting the weight. She'd been warned it would be heavy.
Papa jumped slightly in surprise at how calm she was and then he beamed at her as he held her hands to help her up.
"Arise, My Lady Anjou," he said loudly, before whispering, "Good girl. You're doing really well," as he leaned down to kiss her. Leaning back, he continued, "Off you go and find Monsieur Picard."
"Yes, Papa," she agreed, turning around and going straight back down the Hall and out of the double doors.
Monsieur Picard was waiting for her right on the other side of them.
"Madame de Orleans," he greeted her, kissing her hand.
Maria bowed her head ever so slightly, as Lady Bury had taught her to do, "Monsieur Picard," she answered, pronouncing the unfamiliar name carefully to make sure she didn't make a mistake.
"Indeed, Your Highness. Shall we go?"
"Naturellement, Monsieur."
His eyes lit up at her attempt at the French and he slipped a ring with a blue stone on to her finger, then tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.
As they turned to the door, Papa's herald shouted, "The Duchess of Orleans and His Excellency the French Ambassador!"
Maria nearly jumped, but she knew she couldn't show she was scared. She'd promised Mama she wouldn't be frightened.
She lifted her head and looked for Papa at the other end of the hall. She saw him at once and kept her eyes on him as Monsieur Picard led her down towards him.
Mama rose from the dais and took her hands and she came closer, "Greetings, Madame de Orleans," Mama said, kissing her cheeks gently.
Maria wasn't sure she liked this bit. She didn't like being formal with Mama. It was bad enough having to curtsy to her when all she wanted to do was run into her arms for a hug, without all this too. Luckily, Papa was soon beaming down at her as he swept her into his arms and turning her on his hip to face the crowd.
He raised his goblet in the air, "Duchess Mary of Orleans!" he roared and the crowd roared it back, leaping to their feet in a great cacophony of bench scraping against stone.
Maria couldn't help smiling, especially when Papa seated her between him and Mama and placed the food on her plate himself, as he would do for any grown-up lady he liked.
He even let her sip at his wine, though she pulled a face at the taste. She'd never understand how grown-ups could like that.
Lionel was in bed in the nursery and she was glad, because he would have spoilt things if he had been there. He would have cried and everyone would have wanted to know what was wrong. There wouldn't even have been anything wrong. Lionel was just a silly baby who took everyone's attention. Maria tried not to mind, but she did. That's why sometimes, like tonight, it was nice to be the centre of attention again. Like she used to be.
Marguerite knew something was wrong the moment François strode into her rooms.
"What is it, mon frère?"
Instantly, she stood up, dismissed her ladies from the room, took his hands in hers and led him to the nearest chair.
"Henri has named his daughter Countess of Anjou and Duchess of Orleans. He has publicly announced her betrothal to my son."
"Well, you know what we have to do then," Marguerite answered smoothly, rubbing his hands soothingly.
Oh, inwardly she was seething at the King of England for forcing her brother's hand like this, but, as her mother had so sternly reminded her, the time for her own tantrums was past. François needed her to stand by him, now more than ever.
With that in mind, she managed to meet his hollow gaze with a near-impassive one of her own.
"We have to formally announce it to the Court."
"Yes. And we have to tell Henri."
"Henri? Marguerite, he won't understand what this means! He's only a babe! Scarcely more than two!"
"Nonetheless, he has a right to know that he will be married. His nurses need to know too. It will affect the way they treat him."
"It will?" François blinked in surprise and Marguerite scoffed. For an instant, she was the imperious, semi-omniscient older sister that she had once been during their childhood at Amboise.
"Do you know nothing of how domestic and foreign policy affects the nursery? Of course it will. Viens!"
She pulled François to his feet and made him follow her through the rabbit warren of their palace to the children's rooms.
Upon entering, she made sure to embrace all the children before calling to Henri, "Henri, Viens. Your father has something he wants to tell you."
"Yes, Aunt Mar'reet," Henri lisped, toddling over to her. She took him on her lap and then looked up at François expectantly.
To her brother's credit, he did his duty, sinking to his knees and placing his hands on his son's shoulders.
"I need you to listen very carefully, Henri. I've just had news from England."
"England?"
"Oui. You're to marry the Princess Mary."
"Pwincess Mawy?"
François was about to nod, in fact, was too far through the movement when Henri continued, "The Bad King 'augh'er?"
Marguerite surreptitiously removed Henri from her lap, at the same time trying to send her brother a warning glance, one he was too blind to notice.
Which meant he was utterly astounded when his two year old son suddenly flung himself to the ground, kicking and screaming.
"Non! Non! NON! No marry Bad Pwincess! Hate HATE!"
Marguerite knew she shouldn't laugh, knew she was only encouraging her nephew, but she couldn't help it. François looked so helpless in the face of his son's stormy passion and little Henri was mirroring her own former feelings so exactly.
Instead of chastising Henri, therefore, she looked up at her brother and raised her voice so as to be heard above the child's drumming heels and raucous screams.
"Well, at least the boy's a patriot."
The bite in her tone was unmistakeable.
She dropped a steely half-curtsy and swept from the nursery without waiting to be dismissed, leaving her brother behind her, white-faced and staring impotently down at his uncontrollably raging son.