Chapter 29

After ten days at court, he escorted her, Lucy, and Thomas back to Grentham. He would stay there for a few days and then he and Jane would travel to see William and Eleanor for a few days before he'd make his way back to Henham Park. They were hoping for an October wedding but there were a few matters that Charles and her father needed to discuss before any planning could happen. It also only gave Jane about eight weeks to get her life in order and to prepare for one of the momentous days of her life.

While in London they had talked through everything that had happened the first night she had been back at court and though she would never be entirely comfortable there under the watchful eye of the King or his paramour, she felt reassured that there was no one else in his life and no one else for whom he felt as strongly as he did her. They dined at court two additional times after that evening and she did her best to avoid any prolonged conversation with either his majesty or the Lady Anne and Charles went out of his way to see to it that she was kept entertained and protected. Wolsey, once so high in the King's favor, was falling more and more, aided by the information that Thomas Boleyn, the Duke of Norfolk, and Charles all provided him with. Henry was still reeling from the findings of the legatine court which had insisted that Cardinal Campeggio was unable to rule on the great matter alone. There seemed to be a sudden upsurge in rhetoric against the Pope and the Catholic church and its cult of images, rhetoric repeated frequently by Anne and her followers whenever they had a chance. It was clear that a line had been drawn; follow the teachings of the Church and you were firmly in the camp of Queen Katharine, demonstrating a willingness to speak out against the Church meant you believed that the King should be allowed to put aside his first wife and take another. Rumors abounded that the Lady Anne was a witch, seducing the King with her magical powers. She'd even heard someone suggest that the Lady Anne had an additional finger or a "devil's teat." Further, people whispered in hush tones that she was providing the King with reading material written by Tyndale which suggested that Kings alone could and should rule in matters both temporal and spiritual. She could sense how tense Charles was, could sense his reluctance to continue to the aide of Norfolk and Boleyn but he saw no other way to bring down Wolsey.

The days at Grentham were spent companionably with Charles and her father spending most of the day holed up in his study discussing matters of the dowry and whatever else needed to be taken care of. Jane met with her seamstress to commission the work on her wedding dress with material she had acquired while in London. She discussed flowers and menus for the luncheon and dinner that would follow the ceremony. They had discussed the possibility of being married in London at his majesty's invitation but Jane had declined and insisted that she wished to be married in her family's chapel at Grentham. Charles, knowing it was more from a desire to be far removed from the prying eyes of the court, acquiesced. They would have to return to London after the wedding but he would make every effort to give her as much time as he could with her family, particularly Henry, before taking her.

She'd already had a relatively difficult conversation with her youngest brother, explaining that she would soon marry the Duke and when that happened, that she would go to live with him. Henry, who'd never spent more than a few days parted from his sister, wondered aloud how long it would be before they would come back to Grentham and Jane had to gently explain that she would come to visit Grentham when she could but that she would primarily be living with Charles and would likely only see him a small number of times during the year.

"But who will I walk with in the afternoons?" he asked softly after a few minutes of thinking over the things she had just said.

"Perhaps Lucy or Anne will be able to take you and Catallus for your walks or Master Swyndale will be here. I'm sure even Thomas could take you if you asked."

"But I do not want them. I want you!" he protested.

Charles, sensing that Jane did not know what to say to this, stepped in, coming to sit on a small foot stool before the place where Henry stood.

"Now, Master Henry, I know it is very hard to be apart from someone you love very much but Jane will visit when she can and I think you will be able to come and visit us at Henham Park as well. Perhaps we can arrange a visit when the river isn't frozen and I can take you fishing. What say you to that?"

Henry nodded though it was with far less enthusiasm than normal and even Charles could tell that the young boy felt angry with him for taking his sister away.

Turning to Jane, he eyed her sadly, "Everyone leaves me," he said before giving a small bow to them and leaving the room.

Charles had held her close as she wept. Leaving the only home she had ever known would be hard enough, leaving Henry would be absolutely devastating.

By the time they left for William and Eleanor's, Henry had come around a bit with her but still refused to look at or speak to Charles, a fact which bothered Jane to no end.

"He will come around, my love, it will just take some time for him to get used to the idea," he had soothed as he helped her onto her horse.

They'd ridden on to Eleanor and William's, delighted to be reunited with her brother and dearest friend Jane was able to put aside some of the sadness she felt about Henry. She was even more thrilled to learn that she would soon be an aunt to what would undoubtedly be a beautiful baby; a perfect combination of William and Eleanor. While William and Charles went hunting and fishing, they spent their afternoons walking in the gardens or holed up in the house talking about the impending arrival and making preparations for the nursery. Neither talked about the delivery, the worry about what could or might happen, the fear of not surviving to see one's child grow. Eleanor believed the baby would arrive sometime in the early spring and Jane promised to be in attendance at the delivery if she was able. Eleanor was nervous about the lying in, worried about being shut away from the world, afraid that William would forget about her during those long weeks. Jane, ever reassuring, insisted that there was no way William would forget her. In fact, if his present behavior was any indication, there was no way that he wouldn't be even more attentive than he was now. They had laughed over his nearly outrageous handling of her, insisting she could not serve herself from a platter at breakfast or dinner, worrying that she might be too cold or too hot, panicking when he saw her reach for something that required her to stand on a stool, reminding her constantly that she needed to rest and take things easy. Jane had commented about it to Charles one evening as they were playing cards and he had looked up from his hand, "I imagine that I will be much the same way when you are pregnant," he commented, causing Jane to blush. He had made these kinds of comments several times now, always hinting at the future children they might have, making no secret of his desire to have a large family. He reached for her free hand, squeezing it across the table and smiling at her. Those smiles might well be the reason she had a houseful of children clamoring around.

After a few enjoyable days together, they departed for Henham where Jane would meet with the staff who would work on her rooms and where she could select a staff to serve her when she returned there in a few weeks as the lady of the house. It was a hot day, hotter than it had been all summer and they had to pause frequently to water the horses and to stop and rest for themselves. They were about 2/3 of the way through the journey when a sudden and unexpected storm barreled down upon them bringing with it torrents of rain, thunder and lightning. There was a small, abandoned chapel with some stables and out buildings nearby where they sought refuge to wait out the worst of the storm. The grooms who had accompanied them took shelter in the stables with the horses while they waited for clearer skies within the sanctuary of the abbey. The stale air was chillier than outside, probably made so by the fact that their clothes were absolutely drenched. She removed her hat and jacket, stripping down to her shift and she did not fail to notice the look that crossed her fiance's eyes.

"Here," he said after a moment, "Take this." He handed her a blanket which was slightly damp but at least offered some warmth.

"I'm going to check in on the horses but then will come back and stay with you. Will you be all right for a few moments on your own?" he asked.

She nodded.

He returned a little while later with a second blanket, along with some bread, apples and wine. Laying the blanket upon the floor, he beckoned her to sit and she came to rest between his legs, letting her back rest against his chest, letting his warmth soak through her body.

"How are the horses?" she asked after a few minutes of chewing.

"They are well, a little spooked from the storm but the grooms have calmed them and given them water and some oats and apples and they seem to be resting more easily."

"And you, my love? How are you?" she asked.

"I am fine, sweetheart. Pleased that you are safe and well, relieved that we had a place to shelter from the storm, happy to be returning to Henham."

"You like it at Henham, don't you?"

"Very much, Jane. It's a much simpler life, a more relaxed pace, a place where I can enjoy the things I like; hunting, fishing, shooting; all without worry about gossip and politics. And it reminds me of you."

"Of me?" she asked in surprise.

"Yes, of you."

"But why?"

"Because, my love, when you came for Christmas last year bringing with you all the joy and spirit of the season, it was the first time that it felt like a home and not just a large, grand house."

She kissed his hand at this. "Wherever you are is home to me, dearest."

He smiled at her and they continued to eat their small snack while chatting about the remaining distance and plans for the days ahead. An hour must have passed and Jane, who had been reclining upon the blanket in an attempt to rest for a bit, sat up.

"Listen," she said.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's stopped raining," she said, standing and walking to the door of the chapel. Pushing it open she peeked outside and saw that the rain had ceased as quickly as it had begun. The sun was back and it had grown warm and muggy once more.

"Jane," he called after her but she was already out the door.

By the time he reached the doors, she had seemingly vanished and he stepped out into the light, momentarily blinded by the sunlight. A split second later he felt something wet and warm sliding down his face and he opened his eyes to see Jane in the courtyard, laughing and holding a handful of mud.

"You little…" he began, reaching down for his own handful of mud and tossing it back at her, hitting her in the backside as she turned from him.

She squealed in protest, launching another pile of mud at him but he ducked and she missed him, hitting the ground behind him instead.

"Oh, that's it," he said and began to chase her through the courtyard, down the pathway they had arrived on. She would glance over her shoulder every so often and he tossed another pile of mud at her, catching her in the back of her legs and he could hear her laughter ringing out as he chased her through a small set of bushes. A moment later they were beside a small pond and Charles grinned when he realized she had nowhere to go and escape. He came towards her and she backed up slightly, her feet now at the edge of the water.

"Lacking a little bravery now, aren't we sweetheart?" he asked with a smirk.

"You wouldn't dare," she said.

"You started this fight, my love. Perhaps you should have thought out your plan a bit more thoroughly," he teased, stepping closer once more.

She shrieked as she stepped back into the water.

"Charles, it's freezing. I will get ill," she pled though she knew there was little chance of that happening.

He took three final steps, closing the gap between them and grabbing her by the waist, tossing her easily over his shoulder.

"Charles, please," she protested, hitting his back with her small fists.

"The time for mercy is over, dearest," he said a moment before he unceremoniously tossed her into the pond.

She emerged from the water a moment later, spluttering, her hair falling from its pins and clips, her shift clinging to her body.

"I am furious with you, Charles Brandon," she shouted at him.

"No you aren't! You're only mad that I won," he yelled back.

"Fine then. I suppose you shall just have to watch me take a swim then because I have no intention of coming back over there."

"Then I suppose I shall just have to join you," he called back as she swam out a little bit further.

She watched as he stripped from his clothes, finally down to naught but his shorts after a few moments. She swallowed at the sight of him, all lean planes and broad shoulders. She had a hard enough time not touching him when he was fully clothed but not touching him when he looked like this before her was virtually impossible. She watched as he swam out to her, hard, fluid strokes that had him next to her in only a few minutes. The water wasn't especially deep and even though she was unable to stand, he was. He reached for her waist, drawing her close to him, wrapping her legs about his waist.

"And now," he said softly, "I shall claim my prize."

"And what might that be, your grace?" she asked, her eyes dark with desire.

"You'll see," he answered the moment before he brought his mouth to hers.

When he pulled away, her eyes were still shut, her lips rosy with his touch, her mouth slightly parted. If the smiles didn't absolutely undo her, the kisses most certainly would.

She felt his hand on the small of her back, felt the gentle pressure he exerted there as he tried to tilt her back. Thinking he meant to dunk her under once more, she struggled for a minute until he whispered into her ear, "I want you to float."

She nodded and let him push her back slightly until she was upon her back in the water. Her shift had tangled about her legs, heavy and weighing her down so he lifted its hem, settling it around her waist. She could feel his hands slip under her backside , drawing her closer and placing her legs over each of his shoulders.

"Charles, what…" she began, attempting to lift her head to look at him.

"Shh," he whispered, "Just let me love you, my darling," he said.

A moment or two passed and then she felt his mouth, hot against the inside of her thigh as it kissed a trail over it. The cold water was suddenly the temperature of a bath and she clenched and unclenched her hands in an effort to keep herself above the water. Sliding her forward a little more, he brought his mouth to her core, lapping over her clit, swirling it with his tongue, licking the sensitive spot on the underside that he knew drove her mad with desire. She was gasping, tossing her head from side to side and he worried that she might dip under so he reached one arm under her spine, settling it behind her head to help keep her in place. With his other hand, he spread the lips of her sex wider, giving him greater access to her, allowing him to feast upon her with all the tenderness and affection he normally treated her with. Her hips moved in small circles as his tongue ran from the bottom to the top of her opening. Her head was moving with a frenzy upon his hand and she was gasping for air and mumbling his name.

"Easy, my love," he said, stilling her hips with his other hand, stroking over her waist gently, bringing her back from the brink. The gentleness of his fingers, combined with the undulations of the water relaxed her for a few moments, just long enough to allow her to breathe normally once more and then he moved his mouth back over her once more. A few more licks of his tongue, the press of his thumb against the underside of her clit, the gentle thrusting and stroking of a finger inside her all had her reaching for climax once more.

She heard him groan in frustration after another minute or two and then he was gently placing her feet back down upon the ground.

"What…I thought…did I do something wrong?" she asked in worry.

"No, I need more room. I need you on solid ground to do what I want," he said. He nodded towards the small bank where this had all begun only a little while earlier and they swam hastily to the shore. She was gifted with a scintillating view of his erection and backside as he emerged from the water and while he laid out his coat upon the ground, balling up his shirt as a pillow for her head, she stripped from the soaking shift. By the time he turned back to her, she was naked and he could stand no more. Kissing her hard, he backed her up, laying her upon the ground, his mouth never leaving hers. His hands wandered down her chest, taking a breast into each palm, thumb swirling around her nipples as he did, biting on her lower lip, trailing kisses down her throat, shoulders, and collarbone. He took a peaked nipple into his warm mouth and she arched her back into his caresses. His hands branded her with each touch and caress, his tongue blazed a fiery trail across her body and she was certain that if her body was a sheet of paper, it would be his name written across it over and over again. She reached between their bodies, her fingertips grazing lightly over his cock, causing him to groan and toss back his head in pleasure. It was remarkable how the simplest of touches, the most gentle caresses could set him on fire.

"Charles. My love. Please," she whispered.

His name on her lips was one of the single most erotic sounds he'd ever heard in his life and he lived to hear her whisper it, to hear her say it, to hear her moan it in the throes of her passion.

He plunged into her then, hands holding her legs apart, thrusting deeply. She cried out at the feeling of fullness his cock had created inside of her and as he continued to move in and out of her, her hands scrabbled at his back. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, lifting her backside slightly from the ground which allowed him to penetrate her at a different, even more pleasurable angle. She could feel her control slipping once more, knew she was ready and so when his mouth met hers for a final, frantic kiss, she cried out her orgasm into his mouth. He gave a final surge and she could feel his hot seed as it filled her. He moved to her side so he could relax and as their breathing slowed and began to return to normal once more, he pulled her into his arms, her head resting upon his chest where she drew light patterns with her fingers.

"Je t'aime ma petite duchesse," he whispered against her head.

"Je t'aime trop, mon seigneur le plus aime," she replied and he smiled.

He was truly the most fortunate man alive.