Chapter III
August, 1549
Jane shook with anxiety as she watched the King entered the Queen Dowager's chambers the second time in that day.
"Arthur," said the Queen Dowager, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"I am going on a hunt," answered the King, glancing around. "It is still early in the day. I have invited Lord Robert Dudley to be part of the hunting party. I hope it pleases you that I at least consider him as my brother-in-law now. I'm here to ask if you can relieve Lady Jane Grey for a few hours. I wish to invite her on the hunting trip too."
Jane froze as she felt the Queen Dowager's sharp, hawk-like eyes land on her. She quickly returned to her needlework, her pallid cheeks rising to a light shade of pink.
"Lady Jane," her mistress's clear voice rang out. "His Majesty, the King, wishes you to join the royal hunt today. Do you desire to go?"
Standing up with a curtsey, she said quietly, "No thank you, Your Majesty."
"No?" said the King incredulously, his mother equally astounded.
"I am sorry to disappoint you," said Jane softly. "However, I cannot hunt. I feel ill every time I shoot an animal. I find nothing enjoyable about hunting. I hope you can forgive me." She sunk back on her cushioned chair and bowed her head.
"Are you mad?!" hissed Lady Joan Somerset beside her. "You were chosen by the King himself to go on a hunt, and you reject it?!"
"I cannot hunt," Jane whispered back. "Nor am I willing to shoot down a harmless creature."
"Your mother will be furious if she hears about this."
"No doubt she will hear about it. Once the King leaves, the Queen Dowager will depart for the Lady Protector's rooms and inform her the news. My lady mother will indeed hear about it, as she is one of the Lady Protector's most trusted ladies."
"The late King fell more in love with the Queen Dowager after a royal hunt! Don't you want to be the King's mistress, Lady Jane?"
Jane looked at her, scandalised.
"I am His Majesty's cousin!" she murmured with more spirit than before. "I will never commit myself to be his mistress! Even if I must defy my mother's wishes, so be it! The path of mistress is not for me! If I do become his mistress, the Queen Dowager will dismiss me from her service!"
"She already suspects you," commented Joan. "She recognises unconventional methods to love a King, and she will not appreciate your actions. She will want the King to be a perfect knight – honourable, chivalrous and all that – when he marries the chosen bride."
"I have no desire to be his mistress!"
Joan gave her a questionable look. "That is utterly debatable. Look at Mistress Honor Bassett. She's gnashing her teeth at you." The two glanced across the room and saw another fellow maid-of-honour – Honor Bassett – glaring meaningfully at them, her eyes glowering and her tight lips contorted into an ugly growl. The Bassetts were known for their desire to increase their social standing and being mistress to the King was encouraged to the Bassett girls.
"I will never whore myself," said Jane coldly, returning to her needlework. "The Bassetts have questionable reputations, but I do not."
"Lady Jane," called the Queen Dowager. "Come over here please."
Jane obediently rose and walked to her with a curtsey. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
"Give this to the Lady Protector," the Queen Dowager commanded, imperiously handing her a folded piece of parchment. "I am trusting you, Lady Jane." She leant closer and hissed, "Do not dare encourage my son again or you will no longer find a place at Court. I do not think your lady mother will be pleased at that, do you?"
Jane bowed her head and walked out, feeling the Queen Dowager's eyes follow her.
She entered Mary's chambers. With a curtsey, she handed the letter to the Lady Protector, her face hidden by a stack of papers. Jane felt sorry for her cousin and wondered why anyone would want to bear the burden of the crown. I never want to be Queen, thought Jane, suppressing a shudder. Poor Mary. She has no time to reconcile with dear George or to visit her daughter in Austria. I do not understand why anyone wants so much power. It will bring nothing but misery. Mary will die of illness if she continues working like this!
"Have a seat," said Mary, pushing the mountain of papers away and looking at her in the eye. "We need to talk, Jane."
Jane nodded, filled with dread and worry.
"The Queen Dowager has written a concerning letter," said Mary, putting the piece of parchment on a smaller pile of papers on her right. "She says that the King invited you to join a royal hunt, and you publically refused him."
"I-" began Jane.
"She is concerned you wish to be Queen," interrupted Mary, gazing at her sternly. "The Queen Dowager was raised in the Flemish and French Courts in her youth, and is aware of many...methods ladies employ to gain power, influence and wealth. She knows you are a pious and well-behaved lady, but she does not want to take any chances. As your cousin, I want to know; do you harbour any concealed feelings of love or affection to His Majesty?"
"No! I mean, I love him as a cousin and a subject, but that is as far as it goes! I will never demean myself to be his mistress! I do not even want to be Queen! Forgive me, but I have seen how the Queen Dowager was treated by the late King, and I do not want to be treated like that."
"Why did you not accept his invitation to hunt?"
"I cannot stand hunting."
Mary looked at her strangely. "You cannot stand hunting?"
"I swear to it, Your Highness! My parents both enjoy hunting with relish, but I despise it! I did not want to go hunting because I cannot stand it, not to provoke the King into chasing me as a conquest! Even Mistress Honor Bassett suspected I was planning something! I promise I did not!" Tears threatened to fall from Jane's eyes.
Mary's eyes softened. "I'm sorry, dear Jane. I had to make sure you were telling the truth. The King will make a great match one day, as will you."
"You believe me?"
"Of course. You are only thirteen years old and raised in a good household in England. I doubt you wish to enchant a King already!" She laughed a little before retaining a calm composure. "However, I must insist you transfer to the Duchess of Bavaria's household."
Jane stared at her with disbelief.
"I...I cannot!" stammered Jane. "My lady mother...! She will be furious!"
"Your lady mother will be told," said Mary calmly. "It is the Queen Dowager's request for you to be removed to Princess Anna of Cleves's household, but I think you will prefer it in the Duchess of Bavaria's service instead. The Duchess loves playing with her children and you may find that more enjoyable than hours of needlework in Anna's household."
"Your Highness, you do not know my lady mother-" She suddenly stopped, horrified in the words she had just uttered. A true Christian lady would never speak words against her good mother!
Mary arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Jane looked at her feet, her cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
At that moment, Lady Dorset entered Mary's study, shooting Jane a suspicious glare.
"Ah, good timing, Lady Dorset," said Mary pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"
"What is my daughter doing here?" said Frances, distracted. "She is in the Dowager Queen's service I believe! I am here to inform you that the tapestry is complete."
"Excellent. I am so pleased you and the other ladies can finish embroidering the tapestry we started a few weeks ago. Lady Jane is transferring to the Duchess of Bavaria's household."
"What?! Already?! What has she done now?"
"Nothing scandalous, Lady Dorset. Nothing at all. In fact, I think Lady Jane here will be of much better use to the Duchess of Bavaria than to the Dowager Queen."
"Your Highness! That will not do at all!" Frances glared at her daughter again. "It is the highest honour to serve the Dowager Queen – with the absence of a Queen Consort – and it is humiliation for Jane to be dismissed from the Dowager Queen's household in her first month of service! I will not have it! What is the reason for her dismissal?"
"The Duchess will be travelling to Bavaria with her husband and children shortly and will return in January next year. The maids-of-honour she brings along will receive an excellent education abroad. It is an incredible honour for them to be educated in Bavaria alongside other Bavarian nobles. Jane is at a perfect age to continue her education."
Frances frowned slightly. "The Bavarian Court is less fashionable and magnificent than the French Court, or even the Spanish Court."
"England's relations to Bavaria are stronger than to either France or Spain."
"What will be in it for Jane?"
"Perfecting German and understanding the Bavarian customs? As a relative of the King of England, Jane will have quite high precedence amongst the Duchess's ladies, even though Jane is only a young girl of thirteen. Perhaps the Elector Palatine may suggest a spouse for her? He has many German cousins who are reigning Counts, Princes, Dukes, Margraves and Landgraves."
Frances nodded reluctantly, a little pleased. Of course she wanted Jane to be Queen of England, but it would not hurt for her to master German and be courted by German Princes. Perhaps if Jane marries a German Duke, Katherine Grey could be the Queen of England.
"Very well," she said quietly. "I will speak to my lord husband tonight. It is indeed an honour for my Jane to continue her education abroad." She smiled at Jane – the first time in many years – and left, leaving Jane staring after her.
George sat in the corner of a tavern, brooding and staring into his cup of ale, the raucous chatter only an echo in the background.
He hadn't been in a tavern alone for quite some time and it reminded him of the days before his marriage to Mary.
"Is there anything I can get you milord?"
George glanced up, his eyes red with anger and sorrow. "Another glass of ale," he mumbled, pushing his half-filled cup towards the busty wench in front of him.
"You have not finished it yet!" she exclaimed. "I will get you another immediately," she added hastily, after seeing the furious glare he shot her. She picked up the cup and hurriedly went to refill it, returning a few minutes later with it.
"I'm surprised you are here, my lord."
George jerked his head up in surprise as he stared at the familiar face of his childhood friend, the poet Sir Thomas Wyatt.
"Wyatt?!" said George, slightly confused. "How did you even find me here?"
"There were rumours at Court," said Wyatt, sipping from his own bottle of ale. "It was said that you rode off after a heated argument with the Lady Protector. I thought it would be wise to give you some time away before heading over here. I remembered when we were young boys and you fell in love with my sister – Margaret, the late Lady Lee – before realising she was betrothed to Sir Anthony Lee. You became more quiet and solemn, and spent more time here than with your family or other courtiers. I thought this would be the first place you would go to after the argument."
"My own wife knew our daughter was to be offered to Austria..."
"She is the Lady Protector, my lord."
"Every man arranges marriages for his children, except me! I always thought that with Arthur as King, Mary would be free to be happy with me and decide spouses – English nobles - for our children with me arranging the matches like every other nobleman! What kind of man am I if I was not aware that my wife negotiated marriage for our Katherine behind my back?!"
"Everyone was aware of it, my lord."
"Ha. I was not." He drained his cup of ale and sighed. "Our Margaret was ill and I was at her side the whole time. Every day, she would ask when her Mama would be home, and I would promise soon. Mary did eventually visit, but she was not the mother of our children as she once was. It was during that time when she must've agreed for the Archduke to marry our Katherine. I knew the Archduke will marry Katherine – eventually – but had no idea that Mary orchestrated it. I cannot believe I hate my own niece with such a burning passion now! I loved Elizabeth as my niece and always viewed her as clever, but now...she is nothing but a whore!"
Wyatt's eyes widened with shock. "My lord! The Princess Elizabeth is not a whore! Why would you say such a thing about your own dear niece?!"
"She ruined everything!" said George savagely. "Katherine would've been more happy to stay here in England, not in goddamn Austria!"
"You drank too much ale, my friend. You must go home..."
"I will not return to a place where I am nothing but an ornament! It is not right! I rather stay here and drink myself to death than watch any more of my children bartered off as cattle." He reached for Wyatt's bottle of ale, which Wyatt instantly pushed away.
"I will talk to the Lady Protector," said Wyatt quickly. "I'm certain she will understand. For now, you must leave this cursed tavern and stay in a place more fitting for a Duke. Lord Talbot has a manor nearby, and he will be more than happy to allow you stay with them for the night...and a few nights after. It has been all arranged. Now come, my lord. We must go at once."
After a good hunt, Arthur lounged in his chambers lazily with a stack of unopened letters. He picked up the first letter and his heart skipped a beat.
Before he opened it, he recognised the handwriting; Katherine.
He instantly broke the imperial seal and smoothed the parchment. Your Majesty, he read. I know you asked me many times to address you as 'Arthur', but I do not think it is proper to call you that now that I am Archduchess Katharina of Austria and the wife of Archduke Maximilian. I heard you still mourn my departure from England, but I insist you must cease and look to the bright future of matrimony and England. We were affianced once as children, but no more. I will visit you and our family in England as often as I can, but you must forget me. Please. I am happy in Austria, but I heard concerning rumours about my lord father and lady mother. Are they well? What about you, Your Majesty? Are you well? I long to hear from you soon. Your affectionate cousin, Her Imperial and Royal Highness, the Archduchess Katharina of Austria and Princess of Hungary and Bohemia.
He sighed gloomily and threw it in the fire, watching the crackling flames greedily consume the parchment. I will never forget you, he thought miserably.
"Your Majesty, the Lady Protector is here."
With a scowl, Arthur straightened up and smiled sarcastically as Mary entered his room with the usual curtsey, a broad smile on her face.
"Lady sister," said Arthur politely. "What can I do for you now?"
He had never seen Mary so excited before!
"The marriage negotiations have been finalised with the Scottish Council," explained Mary, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "With the Scottish regent – Queen Dowager Marie de Guise – it had been decided that Ned will marry her daughter, the Queen of Scots, to ensure peace between England and Scotland for the many years to come."
"I thought she was my bride-to-be," commented Arthur. "You always said that it will be a brilliant future if England and Scotland are unified through marriage between me and the Queen of Scots. Besides, if I do marry her, Scotland will be purified of its savage ways and obey English customs as I will rule Scotland. A woman cannot rule! Especially if she must do her duty and have heirs!"
"Do you remember what happened when Edward I of England tried to enforce English customs upon Scotland? Disaster for both kingdoms."
"Are you plotting treason, my lady?"
Mary gave him a confused look. "In what way?"
Arthur leaned forward, his eyes glittering with anger, yet a sardonic smile appeared on his face. "There are still rumours circulating around England," he said softly. "Some people still believe you have more royal blood than I do, and your Council even allowed you to give your children the titles of 'Prince' and 'Princess' which make them royalty in the eyes of Christendom! You have done nothing to secure my place on the throne, rather, you have endangered it by marrying Katherine to an Austrian Archduke, and now Ned to the Queen of Scots."
"Your Majesty...I am doing the best for England. Everyone accepts you as their King, and I will never place my children above you!"
"What about my reputation?"
"Please tell me you are not still angry at Elizabeth..."
"I will marry Mary, Queen of Scots." His lips formed a tight, sulky expression as he stared at his half-sister and regent in the eye. "I do not care if I must wait for her to grow up before she can give me my heirs, but I will marry her."
Amused, Mary said, "You have not even met her!"
"I've seen a portrait of her," Arthur pointed out.
Mary raised an eyebrow. "The commissioned portrait had just arrived!"
Arthur grinned. "Indeed, my lady! I ordered it to be sent to me immediately! Isn't the seven year old Queen lovely?"
He pushed the portrait towards her. The young Scottish Queen had a small, oval-shaped head, adorned by bright auburn hair hidden by a stylish French hood. Her hazel-brown eyes sparkled excitement on the canvas and her finely arched brows showed intelligence. She was a child, but had promise to be a strikingly attractive royal lady when she grows up.
"She is beautiful," Mary agreed. "Who gave you this portrait?"
"Guillame de Luil," said Arthur smugly, smirking at Mary's horrified expression. "He is proving to be a loyal servant. Very witty too. I suppose it was good that he was raised with the Ropers – very intelligent people I believe. It is always good to have a friendly servant."
"Guillame de Luil?" repeated Mary, sick with apprehension. The late Henry VIII had a host of mistresses – including Jane, Duchess of Bavaria (mother of the late King's daughter, Claudia FitzTower); her sister-in-law Mary Stafford (née Boleyn), Countess of Buckingham; the late Lady Bessie Blount and the most infamous of them all, the Frenchwoman Isabelle de Luil.
With the King, Isabelle had three children; Guillame, Henri and Isabelle de Luil (the latter in Elizabeth's service as a maid-of-honour). Grudgingly, Mary had allowed the two de Luil boys to join Arthur's household, but now she regretted it.
Arthur nodded arrogantly. "My good friend, Guillame de Luil."
Mary swallowed and nodded. "I see..."
"He must be rewarded," continued Arthur, standing up and staring out the window in a manner like Henry VIII. "Perhaps reinstatement to his earldom."
"Are you sure that is wise...Your Majesty?"
"Why not? You have rewarded your supporters well, why cannot I reward mine? A good servant is hard to find these days!"
"There is talk about-"
"His mother? She is dead now."
"It is not wise to bestow titles upon commoners, especially those of illegitimate birth."
"Oh really?" His eyes glittered again. "Funny. I heard you are planning a prestigious match for Lady Claudia of Bavaria – or should I say, Lady Claudia FitzTower?"
"It was honourable for the Duke of Bavaria to protect his wife's reputation and acknowledge your illegitimate half-sister as his own daughter. The poor girl has suffered already, as our father announced her death to the Court when she was actually alive. A nobleman would be a fool to refuse a substantial dowry and a royal illegitimate child."
"Her mother is your friend...Guillame is mine."
Mary sighed, defeated. "I hope one day, you see sense, dear brother. Our father made many mistakes, and we – your mother and I – hope you never make them. We will talk again later, perhaps at supper or maybe tomorrow afternoon."
She curtsied and left to Arthur's delight. Guillame casually strolled in and bowed. "Your Majesty," he said slyly. "I cannot help but overhear your conversation with the Lady Protector. I crave your pardon, but it was quite difficult not listening when I was folding your bed sheets in the room next door. Do you need any light refreshments, my lord King?"
"A goblet of wine," grunted Arthur, smiling at his friend. "Talking with the Lady Protector always results in an argument. What can I do for you today?"
"I received a letter from my half-brother, the mayor of Picardy, and he is in a little dilemma..."
"Oh dear. What may his dilemma be?"
"He is ruined. When the French marched to attack England, they went through Picardy. With bad harvests and weather, Picardy does not prosper, nor my half-brother's fortunes."
"What is his name?"
"Francois, my lord King. Francois de Luil. He also has many children on his hands, as his wife Madame de Luil, is quite fertile. Perhaps to smooth relations with France, a host of maidens can be exchanged, followed by marriage negotiations? Let us say one of Francois's daughters comes here to serve the Lady Protector and later your lady Queen, while one of our English ladies goes to France to serve the Queen? If I can further suggest, why not marry the Lady Protector's daughter Margaret, off to the new Dauphin? The Lady Protector will be devastated at the loss of her youngest child..."
Arthur's eyes gleamed at the idea.
"So be it!" he declared, clinking goblets with the wily Guillame. "An alliance with France it shall be! Oh, and dear friend, one of Francois's daughters will be welcome here in my Court."
Sorry for the wait :) I hope you like the chapter! Oh, and Twelve13, I agree with you; Elizabeth does have too much potential to be just the wife of a courtier. Perhaps something might happen to change that...