A Jewel in Henry's Crown

Chapter Twenty-Four: Sir Francis Bryan and his Liaisons

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Tudors. I only own Charlotte, her family/children and any other fictitious characters I intend on writing! Tomorrow will be the first year anniversary of this story! =)

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In the morning, Charles had gotten up early, not wanting to wake Charlotte. He stared at his wife and kissed her forehead and stepped out of their bedchamber. In her sleep, she rolled over; still thinking that Charles was there. He sighed as he looked at her. Charles closed the bedroom door and headed out towards the courtyard where a fleet of men were making ready. He wished Charlotte would come and say good-bye. Clearly, she was still furious. The King had made his way down to greet the duke. "Your Grace," Henry exclaimed. Charles bowed before mounting his horse. "Has your wife not come yet to bid you farewell?"

"No, she has not." Charles said, seething. "She and I are currently not in speaking terms, Your Majesty."

Meanwhile, Charlotte had woken up to the sound of horse hooves cantering in the courtyard of Whitehall. She numbly climbed out of her bed and went to the window, peering down at Charles. She opened the window and sighed. He was in full armour, dashing as ever; but she was furious with him. Charles caught her staring down and bowed his head to her. She did the same. "Godspeed," she murmured. He nodded and brought his fingers to his mouth to blow her a small kiss, since she had chosen not to come down properly to say goodbye. Once Charles and his cavalry rode out of the main gates, Charlotte sat on a chair and stared at the floor. The Lady Rochford had interrupted her thoughts. "Charlotte, you must come quickly. The Queen would like a word with you."

Charlotte rose and Lady Rochford helped her get dressed and they went to the Queen's chamber. "Your Grace," the physicians greeted with bows. Queen Jane smiled when she saw Charlotte and dismissed the physicians kindly. Charlotte curtsied to the queen and Jane held out her hand for Charlotte to take. "Sweet Charlotte," she whispered. "Help me to sit."

Charlotte grabbed a few pillows and gently raised Queen Jane. Charlotte felt the tears form in her eyes. "Please, Your Majesty, you mustn't leave us!" she begged. Queen Jane placed a hand upon Charlotte's cheek.

"Do not weep for me, Your Grace." She said, softly. "I have performed my task and have had the greatest—p-pleasure in doing so."

Charlotte allowed her tears to fall freely. "The King, above us all, needs you. You m-m-must try to stay well, Your Majesty,"

"I h-have something for you," Jane continued. "It is over there on that window sill. It was your father's finest jewel, the ring that he wore whilst he was Lord of Norfolk."

Charlotte stood up shakily and went to retrieve the ring. She picked it up slowly and examined it. "Thank you, Your Majesty,"

Queen Jane smiled and Charlotte walked back over. Then the King had arrived once more to see his wife and her condition. "Your Grace," he bowed. Charlotte curtsied.

"Your Majesty," she whispered. Hurriedly, she left the king and queen alone. Once again, Charlotte felt utterly alone. Charles had left; she felt rather guilty not going to say a proper good-bye. As she was walking to Charles' study, Sir Francis Bryan had caught her off guard; he had pinned her up against the wall. "Sir Francis—"

"Tut, tut, Your Grace—do not mutter anything." He interrupted, putting a finger on her lips. "You must know that I have suddenly begun to favour your mother."

"Why?" she shot at him. He chuckled and traced the neckline of her green gown. "That does not give you the right to seduce me to slither your way in to my mother's affections. I am a married woman, Sir Francis."

"Many mistresses of mine are married, Your Grace. I could be pleasurable company while your husband is vacant in the North." He said, coolly. Charlotte raised her hand to smack him but he caught her wrist. "Now, Your Grace, you mustn't quarrel with a man like myself."

"Why ever not?" she hissed. Sir Francis smirked at her and held her by the neck. "Release me at once, or I shall report you to His Majesty."

"You would make a fine sport, milady." He examined her. Just as he was about to force himself upon her, the King had stepped out of his wife's chambers.

"Sir Francis," he exclaimed. "Release Her Grace at once."

Henry had walked over as he had seen Sir Francis—or what it looked like from his standpoint—threatening her.

Sir Francis slowly released Charlotte and laughed robustly. "Not a sport for me," he muttered before billowing off. Charlotte was glued to the wall, shocked and petrified. The King caught her frightened appearance and cleared his throat.

"Did he hurt you, Your Grace?" Henry asked. Charlotte did not immediately respond but slowly turned to glance at the King.

"N-no," she whispered. "Thank you,"

Charlotte hurried off in the opposite direction, hoping to avoid Sir Francis Bryan at all costs. She had to warn her mother—but how?