Chapter II

July, 1549

"How can you remain so calm?" demanded Anne, skulking around Mary's chambers. "Arthur rejected the idea of giving Robert Dudley an earldom!"

Mary looked at her coolly and said, "Even though Arthur is King, he is still a boy. I heard that all men endure a period of rebellion in their youth. Perhaps refusing Robert an earldom is his way of defying you. It won't be long before Arthur realises Robert's usefulness as a soldier, and he will eventually reward him with an earldom."

"What about Elizabeth?!"

"She must endure being Lady Dudley."

Anne narrowed her eyes. "You sound like Arthur!" she accused. "You always claimed you love Elizabeth, but why are you agreeing that she deserves to be called 'Lady Dudley'?! It is fortunate that I have not asked Arthur to give Robert a dukedom, or the both of you will explode with rage!"

"Your favouritism is showing," noted George, putting on his hunting gloves. "Over the last few years, not many peerages have been given out, no favouritism shown and no mistresses paraded around Court, and that is what the common people like. If you want Robert to be an Earl, allow him to earn it through diplomatic negotiations or battle. The Dudleys are not particularly popular with the common folk, and it will be a mistake to give Robert an earldom as a wedding gift."

"You're one to talk!" retorted Anne. "You were given the marquessate of Ormond on the day of your marriage to Mary! Elizabeth is as much a princess as Mary!"

"You were betrothed to the King at that time, and he had to appease Catherine of Aragon in some way for her to agree to the divorce. You agreed for Elizabeth to marry Robert, and offered Katherine as a substitute bride, and now you want Robert to have a title!" He glared at her and said bitterly, "You did not even tell me that Katherine is betrothed to Archduke Maximilian until I found out from Lord Dorset. I cannot forgive you for that."

He turned to Mary. "Did you know about it?"

Mary was unable to meet his eye.

"You did!" said George furiously. "By God! You didn't think to tell me?! I'm Katherine's father! You let me think you didn't know about it until the official announcement! Do you care more about Elizabeth than your – our – own daughter?! You were willing to sacrifice Katherine's happiness for Elizabeth's?! I thought that you cared about our children!"

"I do!" snapped Mary. "I just thought..." She faltered faintly. "...Katherine would be happier wed to an Archduke of Austria than Elizabeth would be."

George shook violently with rage. "We had plans," he said, gritting his teeth. "I agreed for the betrothal between Katherine and Arthur, but you terminated it in favour of a possible unification of Scotland and England. Now you agreed – without my knowledge – with Anne to offer Katherine as the sacrificial lamb to the Holy Roman Empire. We promised no secrets!" Hurt, he stormed out.

Mary watched him leave, a single tear trickling down her cheek. "We should've told him," she said softly, returning to her paperwork half-heartedly. "I should've thought with my mind, not my heart. Perhaps it was wrong to allow Elizabeth to marry Robert."

"Not you too!" said Anne, exasperated.

"I'm afraid we indulged her too long. She is intelligent, but still a Princess of England. She should've married for England's good, not her own."

"You are aware, that if we prevented her from marrying Lord Robert, she would've still married him anyway? I'm certain his father would help in the secret ceremony."

"Indeed. However, as the Dudleys are more...suspicious according to other nobles, I cannot give Robert a title. I must agree with Arthur on that."

"What about Elizabeth?!"

"We agreed a few years ago that I would be regent, and I intend to keep protecting England on behalf of Arthur. If you want to give Robert an earldom, you should've declared yourself regent."

Anne scowled and her temper simmered. "You're tired," she decided, taking the sheets of paper away from Mary. "You work so hard to make England prosperous, and you sacrifice everything for it. Even your own daughter. I'm sorry I did not think how you would feel at the prospect of Katherine leaving you. I only thought of Elizabeth. You must go abroad for a long rest."

"I cannot," replied Mary, her frustration easing away. "England needs me. Besides, I must go and find George. If I don't, I fear he will never forgive me."

In the royal gardens, Princess Isabella, Countess of Lancaster – daughter of Catherine of Aragon and Eustace Chapuys – strolled, her mind buzzing with thoughts.

Tall with copious auburn hair that glistened like gold in the sunlight and sapphire blue eyes, she was considered one of the most beautiful women in the English Court. It was also rumoured that she was one of the most wealthiest.

One of her deepest wishes was to be in her sister, the Lady Protector's close circle of confidantes that consisted of the Dowager Queen, George, Philip, Duke of Bavaria and his wife Jane (née Seymour). She knew she was only fifteen and could be seen as one of Mary's many children, yet she longed to be recognised lovingly as Mary's sister. She had the opportunity to be close to Mary, yet it was ruined when she foolishly refused to dissolve her marriage with Arthur 'Artie' Pole.

"My Lady Princess. What are you doing here, all alone?"

Isabella blinked, startled.

"Oh, Lord Seymour!" she said, smiling as she saw Sir Thomas Seymour, 1st Earl Seymour of Sudeley (Jane's brother) approaching her. "I did not see you!"

Thomas chuckled. "Does your lady sister not worry that you are alone?"

"I...I'm not sure. I hardly see her. She's always busy with paperwork and attending all those council meetings. Do you think they will cease once Arthur reaches eighteen?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not..."

Isabella looked alarmed. "Why wouldn't she?"

"Power is an attraction to everyone," explained Thomas. "I'm afraid, even to your dear sister, the Lady Protector. No one can escape it. Once you taste a little bit of power, you will hunger for more and will never be satisfied!"

Isabella laughed uneasily. "I hope not! Where is Lady Seymour?"

"Catherine? She is recovering from the shock of our Anthony's death." His smile disappeared as he thought of his deceased young son and his wife Catherine's (née Parr) sorrow. "We have many children," he continued. "Our eldest is Cecily, followed by Henry, Geoffrey, Lucy, Anthony and the twins, Mary and Margery. Poor Geoffrey died from illness."

Isabella patted his hand. "Children die when they are young."

Thomas smiled craftily as he continued listening to Isabella's sympathetic words. Talking to women was easy – especially to lonely princesses. He wondered how much profit he could make through sleeping with the Lady Protector's half-sister.

"Has the Lady Protector chosen you a husband yet?" he said politely.

Isabella frowned. Her marriage to Artie was still a secret to the majority of courtiers, and she was advised – no, ordered – to stay away from Artie, which was easy, as he was kept occupied attending the King all day.

"I see it is a delicate subject," said Thomas at once. "I crave your pardon, my lady!"

Isabella dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. "No matter, no matter." She stopped as she stared ahead at an incredulous sight."My!" she exclaimed. "Is that...no, it can't be! Is that the Duke of Richmond riding away at such speed?!"

Thomas turned and was equally surprised at the haste Lord Richmond rode away. A grin spread on his face. Every man would know the reason for such speed; marital troubles.

"It seems the Lady Protector has upset her husband," he commented. "Well! I thought they would never have an argument in their happily married life!" He chortled lightly. "You see, dear Princess, marriage isn't all blissful. You are fortunate you are still unmarried."

Isabella smiled uneasily. "Not for long. I suspect I will be married off shortly at the Lady Protector's pleasure when she remembers me. If I am fortunate, she will choose me an English noble as a spouse so I can remain in England. I fear she will use me as a pawn to mend friendship with Spain, as I am still Spanish by blood with a face of an Englishwoman. That is what Lady Salisbury used to say about me when she was alive and my governess."

"Poor Lady Salisbury," murmured Thomas.

Margaret Pole, 8th Countess of Salisbury had died peacefully a few minutes before the verdict of her treachery could be announced in 1543.

"My eldest daughter is four years younger than yourself," said Thomas suddenly. "Why not make her acquaintance? Perhaps if you become fond of her, you can take her in as a maid of honour? It might make my wife happier that her daughter has a place in Court!"

"Wouldn't it be better if your daughter is a maid of honour in the Lady Protector's household?" Isabella inquired. "I have not been at Court for long."

Thomas leant in close and whispered, "The Lady Protector is an adherent Catholic my lady! All her maids and ladies are Catholics too."

Isabella looked at him questioningly. "You are-?"

Thomas gave her a roguish wink. "A Reformist like the Queen Dowager. Catherine is also one of the New Faith like myself, and of course, our children are raised Protestants. It is inappropriate for our Protestant-raised daughters to be ladies in the service of a devout Catholic. The Queen Dowager's household is quite full, and I wish for my daughter to be happy. After all, you're such a lovely and kind woman, and I can promise you that my Cecily is very obedient."

"I will meet her and consider it. I must warn you that I am a Catholic. If you're worried about the amount of religious devotion in households, why not send Lady Cecily to Princess Anna of Cleves's household? She is a Protestant, I believe."

"Of course." Thomas smiled again. "My lady." He bowed respectfully and slinked away, keeping his crafty eyes on the ground.

The Greys sat around the rectangular table – constructed from the finest mahogany – with Lord Dorset at one end and Frances at the other. On one side were their daughters, on the other was Dorset's younger brother, Lord John Grey and his wife Mary, Lady Grey (née Browne).

"I hear you have another child," Dorset said pleasantly to Lord John. "Many blessings to you and your dear wife." He nodded at Lady Grey. "Is it a dear son or daughter?"

"A girl this time, lord brother," answered Lord John. "We named her 'Margaret', after lady mother. I am satisfied with a daughter after dear Mary had given me a son."

Two years ago, Lady Grey had presented her husband with a son – the Hon. Henry Grey – to the delight of the entire Grey family. As Frances failed to put a healthy Grey son in the Dorset cradle, the marquessate itself faced the looming danger of extinction. However, as Lady Grey delivered a son, Lord Dorset was reassured of the safe succession of the marquessate.

Dorset nodded in approval. "I'm pleased your Henry is a bonny lad. I hope Lady Grey will gift us with more sons in the future." He smiled again at his sister-in-law.

"Your daughters are lovely," said Lord John, grinning at his three nieces. "I hear Lady Jane will join either the Lady Protector or the Queen Dowager's household shortly." His grin broadened as Lady Jane blushed prettily. "Do you know which household you want to join?"

"Jane will join the Queen Dowager's service," said Frances stiffly. "The King is instructed to visit his mother for an hour every day, and he always sees his mother's ladies and maids-of-honour. However, once he reaches his majority, he may not visit his mother anymore. The sooner Jane is installed as a maid-of-honour in the Queen Dowager's household, the better."

A little surprised, Jane obediently nodded.

"Wouldn't it be more beneficial if Jane is in the Lady Protector's service?" said Lord John, puzzled. "The King visits his cousins daily too, and she is his cousin."

"Jane is born a plain girl," said Frances, dismissing her daughters with a wave of her hand. "Look at those freckles and dull eyes! Even Katherine is more beautiful and attractive than Jane, and she is only a little girl of nine! I'm afraid the goddess of beauty has not blessed Jane. Her tutors tell me that she is scholarly and intelligent. That is good once she becomes a mother, but who will want a wife that has more wit than beauty?"

"I would?"

Frances shot him a look. "You are one of those rare men that will. Our King suffers in intellect compared to his brighter sister Elizabeth, and I doubt he will find wit refreshing. However, this is the only advantage I find useful in Plain Jane-"

"You call your own daughter 'Plain Jane'?"

"Do not smirk at me like that! Our King may find intelligence in a plain and shy girl quite amusing, which in turn may lead to infatuation, and then...marriage."

"The Lady Protector will not forgive you. She is arranging a match for the King as we speak, and will not appreciate your...actions."

"Jane is a perfect candidate for the King's hand!"

"Have you suggested it to the Lady Protector?"

"She will dismiss it as a joke. When we talk about it, she often mentions the Queen of Scots, an Austrian Archduchess, a Spanish Infanta or one of her own daughters as a possible spouse for the King. They are all princesses, but Jane is equally royal through me, and has prominent aristocratic blood through her father. I regret never having sons, but I believe God gave me daughters for a reason, and I intend to use them like pawns in a good game of chess."

Lord John looked questioningly at his brother. "Do you intend to use your children like the Howards do?" he asked rather coldly.

Dorset shrugged. "Frances mostly wins the chess games, and she is the one with the royal claim and connections. I agree with her decisions fully. I know she will not want our daughters to whore themselves in front of the King like old Norfolk did."

"Then what? Jane will be Queen?"

Frances's eyes gleamed like jewels in her wooden casket. "Of course!" she said, almost gleefully. "Why else would I be given three daughters from God? I have three chances to be mother of Queens and ancestor of Kings."

"What about their education? How can Jane continue her schooling if she serves as maid-of-honour to the Queen Dowager?"

"It will be sorted."

"What if the Lady Protector discovers your plans?"

"You are quite pessimistic, aren't you? The Lady Protector and I have been friends since childhood, and this can be regarded as a minor argument. Besides, she has three unmarried sons and I have two spare daughters. I do not mind to sort out our possible...dispute through marriage between either my Katherine or Mary to the young Marquess of Ormond. It would be perfect if Jane becomes Queen Consort of England, Katherine as the Marchioness of Ormond and future Duchess of Richmond, and Mary as a spare. Perhaps she can be Abbess of Lancaster Abbey."

Dorset nodded in agreement, his eyes shining at the prospect of being father to the Queen of England and the Duchess of Richmond.

Lord John swallowed. "What is my – and Mary's – part in this?"

"Why, Lord John!" said Frances, her eyes widening with amusement and mock surprise. "You have an important role to play! You and Lady Mary are the parents of the future Marquess of Dorset! I have accepted that I will not be mother to the future Marquess of Dorset, but you, Lord John, you are father to the Dorset heir. It is your son who is the key to our family fortune! How would you feel if your son is elevated to a dukedom? All you must do is give your son the finest education, and keep providing us with healthy, legitimate Grey sons!"

"What about our Margaret?"

"I'm certain a good marriage will be made for her once Jane is Queen. It will be delightful if baby Margaret marries one of Mary's younger sons."

Lord John nodded appreciatively, impressed with his sister-in-law's marital plans for his children and nieces. He always admired her to be a woman of strong character and indeed a daughter of the late – yet equally fiery – Princess Mary Tudor, Duchess of Suffolk (the late Henry VIII's sister). "I will put in a good word about Jane," he promised. "I am invited on a hunting trip with the young King, and I will sing praises about Jane: her intelligence, obedience and kindness – all the perfect traits of a Tudor Queen. Above all, she is English. As our King lacks royal blood on his mother's side, Jane has enough royal Tudor blood to have equally royal offspring with the King."

"Excellent. Henry, is there anything you wish to say?" She looked expectedly at her husband.

"Hmm?" said Dorset vaguely. "Oh yes! The King is an avid hunter, and our girls must be brilliantly skilled in the hunt. Especially Jane, if you wish for her to be the Queen Consort. The King will not want a weak wife who cannot stomach blood."

Frances nodded fervently. "You are right, lord husband. In the past, Jane always showed revulsion towards hunting, but that must be remedied at once."

"What if she falls ill?" said Lady Grey worriedly.

"Falls ill?" said Frances, with a frown. "My dear! Jane has an excellent constitution! It will only strengthen when she finds excitement in the hunt!"

"She may not," Lady Grey pressed on.

"My dear Lady Grey, you do not need to worry about Jane. She knows where her duties lie. All you must do is promote her interests. I would've preferred if the Lady Protector suggests Jane as a bride for the King, but if she doesn't, I must take matters into my own hands for the better of our family. The more Grey sons there are, the better."

"Of course, my lady."

"It is fortunate that you are married to Lord John here."

"Really, my lady?" She looked surprised. "Why is that?"

"You are Catholic, and your brother – Anthony Browne, 1st Viscount Montagu – is a trusted member of the Privy Council. The Lady Protector and the Queen Dowager declare England to be a religious tolerant kingdom, but we both know that the Lady Protector trusts her fellow Catholics more than a loyal Protestant suggested by the Queen Dowager. It is dangerous for England to rely on their slowly tottering friendship for survival and prosperity."

"You believe it would be better when the King rules more than in name?"

"Yes. Especially with Jane as his wife and mother of his heirs. We must press the importance of the King having an English-born wife."

"The people will not want a foreign Queen," agreed Dorset, sipping another goblet full of wine. "They remember their sainted Catherine of Aragon, but all she did was give her husband a daughter! At least that Queen Anne gave the late King a son."

Lord John nodded uneasily.

He never liked plotting as much as his brother and sister-in-law.

He found it irksome and dangerous.

Besides, with a charming wife and two children in the nursery, a man like him could rest comfortably in a country manor rather than roam around in a Court full of poisonous vipers of intrigue – an ideal dream Frances was determined to block him from.

"How is your sister?" said Dorset, changing the subject.

Frances scowled. "The victim of illness again. Eleanor had always been frail, even when she was a young girl. It is no surprise she only had one surviving daughter – Lady Margaret Clifford – at the moment. I doubt she will ever have another bonny child!"

"You despise your sister," noted Lord John. "What has poor Lady Cumberland done to you? She had two sons before they died of illness."

"They were as weak as she is. No surprise there."

"She serves the Queen Dowager I believe."

"Yes. My late father believed it was wiser to have one daughter in each prominent household rather than both in one household. I intend to follow his plan, with Jane in the Queen Dowager's service, and Katherine in the Lady Protector's."

"What about your Mary?"

"She is still a child. When Jane becomes Queen, my Mary can eventually serve as her maid-of-honour, or as a lady-in-waiting in another royal household. After all, the Queen Dowager still has two unmarried daughters that have their own households now." She finished her sentence and drank her cup of wine thirstily. Plotting took quite some effort – even for an energetic woman like herself.

Lady Grey stood up, tired of the conversation.

"Please excuse me, Lord Dorset, Lady Dorset, lord husband," she said calmly, with a small curtsey. "I am exhausted and wish to retire."

Frances nodded. "Yes dear, you must be tired. Have a long rest. You and Lord John must stay here tonight. It is too late for you to travel home."

Lady Grey smiled thinly and hurried to the guest chambers.

"Aunt Mary?"

She stopped as she saw Jane huddled in the corner, her eyes shining with terror.

"You should be in your chambers, Jane," said Lady Grey, glancing around cautiously before looking at her niece with pity. "If your lady mother finds you here, she will beat you!"

"I'm afraid," whispered Jane, her eyes darting nervously everywhere. "What is lady mother planning? I do not want to play a part in her scheme..."

With a sigh, Lady Grey placed an arm around her, only for Jane to jump away. "You have to go to your chambers," she said gently, startled by Jane's sudden movements. "I know you do not want to take part in your lady mother's plans, but she only wants the best for you. Do not fear, all you must do is follow your mother's instructions, and very shortly, you will be England's Queen."

I changed Katherine Grey and Mary Grey's ages to 9 and 4 and fixed the age errors in the previous chapter. To clarify, it's been 6 years since 'The Falcon's Rose', and I decided to write a bit about the Greys before returning back to George and Mary. All ideas welcome :)