To say she is overwhelmed is an understatement. For someone so astute and careful in all of her dealings, most especially her emotions, she is very taken aback by the news just handed to her. It came in the form of a letter.
Her father, the king, decided to acknowledge her presence by gracing her with His Majesty's royal rider. Said rider hand-delivered a letter with the royal seal attached to it. "From His Majesty King Henry VIII," the man formally announced.
Would it be terribly uncomfortable if she told the rider to tell His Majesty he can shove it up his big, fat "Skirt, My Lady. Your skirt is caught on a nail. Do be careful to not move." One of her few lady's maids, Margaret Douglas, told her this and proceeded to fix the problem. She freed the skirt from the nail sticking out of a board.
Yes, that would have been embarrassing indeed. Falling on one's face in front of anyone, most particularly the king's man, would be dreadful. But nothing could be more dreadful than the reduced state of her home. This is why she could care less about this letter from the king, otherwise known as her father. How he expects her to manage an estate on next to nothing is ludicrous. To add to this shame, her cousin King Charles V of Spain has had to send her money. And she knows that is primarily the work of her dear friend, and advisor, Ambassador Eustace Chapuys.
Instead, here she is accepting royal correspondence from the king. Taking the letter in hand, Mary inspected it front and back before breaking the seal. Walking to her writing desk, she seized her fancy letter opener given by her Lady Aunt Joanna of Castile. In her aunt's words "Every lady should have a letter opener. It is unseemly to open correspondence with one's own fingers." Fine Lady Aunt, fine.
Breaking the seal, she walked to the brightness of the window to read. What she read made her lightheaded and left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. Which has nothing to do with the horrible breakfast of days-old bread and left-out cheese. Overcome with sudden dizziness, she sat in the nearby chair and continued reading.
Doing her utmost best to remain composed, Mary turned to the royal rider and addressed him. "Tell His Majesty that he is most generous to think of me. I will be at the aforementioned location at the appropriate time." The rider turned and bid her good day, as he strode out of the residence with her reply to the king.
Once the rider had left, the shock departed her system, and the anger set in. She excused herself from her two ladies, Margaret and Dorothy. Then lifted her skirts and ran out of the back of the castle and into the small side woods surrounding the expanse of the grounds. Grant it this could be dangerous, but she has done this before on several occasions. It's there she let her anger out by screaming at the top of her lungs to all and sundry. It was so loud it even made the birds take flight from the treetops.
She also began talking to herself like a mad woman, because she is mad. Although not crazy, just plain mad. "How dare he!" she seethed. Her hands are balled up beside her and her face is hot. "How dare he think he can just turn my life upside down again. After sending me away, reducing my house, separating from my mother, getting in league with the whore plus her family, and now he thinks he can do this. Well, I've got something to say to you Majesty. No. I have many things to say to you. First, your breath stinks. It smells of something wretched." She rambled on and on, not caring at all because who's going to see her in these woods? "Lowering my station to Duchess! Duchess! I am NOT a Duchess. I am a princess and I am not even that anymore am I? I'm one step away from being declared a bastard. I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!"
Her words ended with "Bloody Hell!" And that did it cause she never curses, ever. Not even once, even though she wanted to many times over the past few years. Feeling guilty, she immediately dropped to her knees in prayer and begged forgiveness of the Lord. She prayed for her tongue. She prayed for her household. She prayed for her mother. With as much grace as she can muster, she even prayed for her father. Then she prayed for her upcoming marriage. In doing so, she prayed for the man she has been pawned off to.
That he would be "Noble and just, Dear Lord. Please help him to be patient with me because he is older and more grown in the ways of the world. Give him the strength of character that may he be honorable, at least just a little." She prayed for any future children they might have. But above all, she prayed for "Love. Lord, I pray for us to be good partners to each other. I pray for your mercy upon us and our household. And your peace and joy and protection. And if you see fit, I pray that we might find just a little happiness. Maybe even love." As she poured out her heart to her Heavenly Father, with tears streaming down her face, she was filled with a calm assurance. Which is far different from when she arrived in these woods.
It's because of this quietude of spirit that she is able to pull herself up from the ground. Wiping her face with the lace sleeve of her gown, recomposing herself she exhaled a deep breath. When she returned to the castle, she summoned everyone to the drawing-room. Lady Salisbury (Margaret Pole), her long-time companion and governess, stood in the front eager to hear.
Mary did her duty and explained the situation with poise and elegance befitting her nobility. Her perfect courtly manners are always on display, even more so now. But it was when she admitted "I know not if any of you will be permitted to accompany me to my new household. Perhaps, at least, Marge and Dot. I will have to ask His Grace." Her hands shook.
Continuing on, she thanked them. "I truly thank each of you for your loyalty and service. You have been most gracious to me. I will ever think fondly of you and pray for you. You are all in my heart. That is all." Her meager staff gave her well wishes and hugs until she was left with just Lady Salisbury. The two of them moved to sit on the couch.
"Oh my dear child," the older woman stated. Then Mary cried on her friend's shoulder. Lady Salisbury let her cry, which is rare. Her long-lived words of advice, a princess should never cry in public, have remained a constant in her life. As she was calming down again, she was asked this question "Mary who, pray tell, are you to marry?"
Yes indeed, who? She acknowledged the question by picking at the lace on her dress. With a waver in her voice, she told her governess "My father arranged a marriage with his most loyal subject and confidante, the Duke of Suffolk. Charles Brandon." Lifting her head she can see Lady Salisbury's astonished face.
It is astounding for many reasons. One of them being his age. Even though she is eighteen, and of marriageable age, he is older than her. But all her governess said is "There could be worse men." That is true too. Her father could have thrown her to the wolves and made a match with George Boleyn or some Howard man. A chill ran down her spine at the thought.
Lady Salisbury cleared her throat and expressed her opinions on the man and the matter. "His Grace is known to be a lusty man with a voracious appetite for the flesh. He is unstable in his relationships. But that does not mean he cannot change. Any person can change if they are willing." She patted her charge's hand. "Now tell me, how are you feeling about this?"
How is she feeling? With an agitated sigh, Mary explained just how she is feeling. "I am confused and torn. This man was my uncle at one point. That is peculiar and almost vulgar. I know nothing of him apart from what is known regarding his lusty appetite as you say. I remember as a child he would play with me and made me smile. But that was so long ago. Now I am wary of who he is, truthfully. But that is nothing to how I feel concerning my father."
Oh, her father! The things she would love to tell her friend, but cannot. Walls have ears. She stood up from the couch and began walking around the room. As she walked she spoke. "He did not even have the courage to face me himself. Instead, I was told I am to be married off in a letter. A letter! That is how he thinks of me. I am nothing. I am not valuable to him. I am just another subject in his eyes. I may as well be a peasant because I was not even afforded a visit from one of his court members. No. The royal rider was sent to me with a letter."
Lady Salisbury shook her head and felt a ripping at her heart. This girl, who she has practically raised, is broken inside. Her father has wounded her to the deep. She cannot help but wonder if she will ever be healed. Only the Heavenly Father can do that. It's in His capable hands now. And yet still she is a princess with the strength of a warrior.
Rising from the couch, Lady Salisbury went to her favorite. She stood by the girl. "Just remember tough times never last, but tough people do. You, my sweet girl, are tough. Why look at all you have accomplished with next to nothing in this castle, this estate. The flower that blooms in hardship is the most remarkable, priceless one of all. You are that flower. Never forget it."
Tears returned to her eyes listening to her governess. For the second time that day, she was pulled into a hug. Then the older lady asked her when the wedding is to take place. "That is the other thing which vexes me. The wedding is tomorrow in the afternoon. Then I am to go with His Grace to his home, Westhorpe Hall. I have no time to prepare a wedding gown. I have no time to get my house in order." Her stomach knotted up and her head ached. She began rubbing her temples.
Seeing the signs of distress, Margaret Pole took the pitcher of water and poured a glass. She handed it to Mary, who drank it. Then she made the girl sit before she faints. "Try not to worry. I will organize the packing of your things and oversee the matters of the house. You go select a dress that will be suitable for the wedding. Then lie down. You must take a break and tend to yourself. We do not want you feeling anything but your best tomorrow. We will make a good show of the wedding."
With that, she sent Mary off to her room. It's there that she began going through her things. All of her dresses are old. She has had to take fabric from one dress and refashion it into a new one entirely. This is due to the reduction of her finances, courtesy of her father. Not to mention letting out seams. She is not the greatest seamstress but she is capable and works hard at it. It is depressing to think that one of these dresses is to be her wedding dress.
Her fingers ran over the fabrics of each one. The green silk one caught her eye. It could do nicely. Strapless, all silk. But if she wears the lace gold bolero with it, then it might actually be worthy of a wedding. Yes. This is what she will do.
Once the wedding dress decision had been made it is on to other things. Marge and Dorothy came in and helped her pack the room. All of her prized belongings filled three trunks. It's odd thinking eighteen years' worth of items could fill up three trunks.
Tomorrow she starts a new journey. As much as it discomforts her, maybe it is time to go. Time to leave these cold stone walls. Time to venture forward. Forward into the unknown. Forward into the future. For every goodbye, there is a hello.
Only time will tell if this new beginning is a blessing or a curse. New beginnings are built. That is what she will do, work on building a solid foundation for the future. It's a good thing to start over. There are many positives to this. But what she really wants is love and friendship.
A love that consumes, heart, body, and soul. A love that chooses her because she has been so utterly unchosen and forgotten. A love that protects and doesn't make her bleed. Even with all of her flaws, a love that still wants her. A love that storms castle walls, no matter how high, to get to her. That is what she wants.
She is not stupid. Of course, she knows there is no perfect knight in shining armor. Knights are dusty and sometimes rusted, and maybe a bit fractured. Plus not every marriage is pleasant or slated for happiness. Happiness for some people can be like reaching for the wind. Her parent's marriage comes to mind. But that is not what she wants for herself. She wants to be happy in love.
Can she be happy with the Duke of Suffolk? Can she love him and he love her? She doesn't know and she is so tired. Laying down on the bed, she pondered these things. Before she knew it her eyes closed and drifted off to a dreamless sleep.
When her eyes opened again it was a new day. The castle is bustling with energy. Today she marries. Lady Salisbury got her up and moving. Down the stairs, she went into the castle dining room. Bread, cheese, and fruit are set before her. She nibbles. Her stomach is too twisted to eat a full plate.
Her governess gave her disapproving looks, knowing she should eat. That it will be a long day and without food even longer. However, the nerves in her stomach forbid it, as does the ache in her head. After breaking the fast, came the morning prayer. Again she prayed for the upcoming marriage, as well as all of her loved ones (which are a very slim lot).
As soon as prayer was over, she became whisked away to start wedding preparations. First Dot styled her long brown hair. The hair was twisted and twined into a Dutch braid with a curled bun, that was rolled upwards and secured. An ornate diamond barrette concealed the ends. This diamond barrette is one of the few pieces of jewelry she owns. It had been given to her from her mother, as it was given to her from her mother. It is special. Her diamond pearl earrings match it perfectly.
Next both Dot and Marge helped her with the dress. They tightened the laces of the corset and made her look like the true princess she is. Once everything had been completed she took a look in the mirror and could scarce believe her eyes. No longer a little girl, but a young woman is staring back at her. Even though the dress is old, she felt pretty. Perhaps the Duke will think so too.
While the castle was being put in order, by Lady Salisbury, Mary helped Dot and Marge put her personal things in order. And soon enough a knock sounded at her room door. Marge opened it and in walked the Ambassador, and advisor, Eustace Chapuys. He greeted her with a kiss on the hand. "My dear sweet Lady Mary. You are looking well on this the day of your wedding. I am thankful to be here. His Grace, the Duke, allowed me to come. I have for you two items. First is a papal dispensation from his Holiness, the pope. He wishes you well."
He handed this to her before he continued. "The other item is a gift from Her Majesty, your mother. She wants you to know that while she is saddened to not be here in person, she is with you in spirit and praying for you on this day. Even though His Grace is not a man befitting the marriage of a princess, she understands the gravity of the situation and gives her approval." He then passed her a red velvet pouch.
Her mother approves. Those are the only words that mattered. If her mother approves, then she can have a bit of peace in her troubled heart. Graceful fingers ran over the velvet of the pouch. Upon its opening, a beautiful embellished bracelet glided out. A laurel of leaves set with diamonds and studded with pearls made her gasp. It is too gorgeous for words and part of her wants to pack it away safely in the trunk. This is too delicate and precious. It's a part of her mother and now it's entrusted to her own care.
Wiping a few stray tears from her eyes, Mary clasps the bracelet on her arm. "Thank you Chapuys. Is my mother well? Does she look healthy?" She has to know, as she worries about her so.
With a piteous look on his face, the ambassador remarked "As well as can be expected with the amount of stress she has had to endure." He did not want to mention that soon Her Majesty would be set aside and moved to The Manor of the More shortly. No one needs to hear news like that on the day of their wedding.
Lady Dot entered the room in a frenzy. "He's here! He's here My Lady." Mary could take this to only mean one thing, the Duke has arrived. Butterflies floated in her body and her stomach again warped with tangles. Oh, how she hopes he likes what he sees and can find something agreeable about her. She hopes the same of him.
The Ambassador escorted her out of the room and to the castle chapel. Her eyes remained on her feet. If she lifted them then she fears what she would see on the face of His Grace. Instead, she steadied and reminded herself to breathe, just breathe. And above all be brave and be kind.