A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews! They are all appreciated and encouraging.
15 June 1535
"It is time to go, Lady Mary," Lady Stafford said to the former princess. She had kissed her nieces, son, and daughter good-bye. Lady Bryan was taking care of them now, and Mary knew she would soon be needed back at court.
"Did the King indicate whether I would be allowed to see my mother?" demanded Lady Mary. "And it is 'Your Highness'," she added, though she must know it was useless to do so.
"He did not," Lady Stafford said, ignoring the last part of Lady Mary's statement. "But I imagine he will not protest against it, if you do as he commands you."
This silenced Mary. She wondered if she would sign the Oath, if her father swore that he would let her see her mother if she did. She wanted to see her mother so badly… perhaps she would. Perhaps she would sign over all of her rights as Princess of England to Elizabeth and Cecily, her bastard half-sisters, if she was only allowed to see her mother. Queen Anne was dead, so she would not have to suffer the humiliation of kneeling to that woman.
It was a long and silent ride back to Whitehall Palace. Mary Stafford reminded herself that this was her duty, and that she was to keep an eye on Lady Mary. It was her duty to her King.
"Are you fond of my nieces, Lady Mary?" Lady Stafford asked suddenly, as they neared Whitehall. Startled, Mary looked sharply at her.
"Of course," she admitted. "They are my sisters."
Lady Stafford nodded. "And if your father were to restore you as a Princess, declaring you legitimate because his marriage to your mother was made in good faith, would you accept them as your heirs?"
Mary hesitated. If she was conceived in good faith, then her mother was not a whore, and she was still a Princess. As it stood, the King claimed Katherine knew that their marriage could not be valid since she had slept with Prince Arthur, which made Katherine an ambitious slut and Mary a bastard. But the Pope had declared the marriage was valid, even if that decision seemed to have no weight here in England. "I don't know," she admitted.
"The King favors me and my family because he thinks we speak for what Anne would," Lady Stafford told her. "And he has his eye on another lady, Jane Seymour, who I believe is warmly disposed toward you and would like to see you restored to your place in the succession. Between us, I think we may be able to convince the King that his marriage was made in good faith."
Mary looked at Lady Stafford, startled. "What is in it for you?" she asked.
"Nothing," Lady Stafford said. "It would be the right thing to do. And if the marriage was declared made in good faith, then perhaps your mother would accept your father's verdict, and you could all be reunited at court."
This was a tempting prospect, but Mary would not be able to give up her Catholic beliefs. "No," she said firmly. "My parents' marriage was valid."
When the carriage rolled up to the gates of Whitehall, there was a kind-looking gentleman there to greet them.
"Mary," he said fondly, kissing Lady Stafford's lips.
"Will," she smiled. Lady Mary realized very quickly that this was Lady Stafford's husband, Sir William.
"I am to escort you back to the Queen's chambers, which are being set up for Jane Seymour's use," Sir William told his bride. "The King has proposed to her, and she has accepted, and you and your sister-in-law, Lady Rochford, are to be her chief ladies-in-waiting." Here he turned to his wife's companion. "Lady Mary, we are to escort you to see your father."
With an arm to each lady, Sir William walked on toward the court.
Lady Mary could hear her heart beating. What did this mean, that her father wanted her to meet with him? Surely he would not force her to sign the Oath?
When they arrived at the doors to the King's presence chambers, and Lady Mary Tudor was announced, the Staffords curtsied in farewell.
King Henry was standing at the window, watching his courtiers as they walked in the gardens below. He doubted any of them had daughters half as disobedient as the one he was receiving now.
"Your Majesty," Lady Mary said as she entered her father's rooms.
"Sit, Mary," he commanded. She sat. He crossed the room and sat across from her, the desk between them. He turned the paper that was sitting on his side toward her and handed her a quill. "Sign."
It was the Oath of Succession.
"I cannot," Mary said.
"And why is that?" the King snapped angrily.
Mary's mind reeled. She knew he would never accept that it went against her beliefs. Just for saying so, she may be banished forever, or if she was particularly unlucky, she might lose her head, as so many defiant citizens before her. What was an excuse that he would accept? Mary blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"My mother…" she gasped. "It would kill her."
It seemed that she had estimated right. King Henry deflated, and his look softened.
"Mary," he said. "Did you not sign this because you knew it would hurt your mother? Not because you disagree with your father?"
Encouraged by his softening, Mary nodded.
"Well," the King hesitated. "As admirable as that is, you must sign." He turned to her. "I can promise that your mother will never hear of it; we will not publicize that you have signed it. But the woman I am to make my Queen would like you at court for our wedding, and I would like that, too." He walked around the table and knelt at his daughter's level. "If you sign, I will give you your own household at Beaulieu Palace," he bribed. "And you may feel free to divide your time between there, the court, and Hatfield, if you would like to see your sisters."
Mary's head snapped up. This was considerable freedom, and she had to admit she would enjoy Beaulieu and court; and she would still get to see those darling girls!
"Would I," she hesitated, "would I be able to visit my mother?"
"If you ask permission first," the King agreed, "then you may."
That was all Mary needed to hear. She grabbed the quill.
19 June 1535
"I am so glad that you have reunited with your father," Jane Seymour said to Lady Mary, walking in the gardens of Whitehall Palace.
"So am I," Mary admitted.
Lady Mary thought Jane Seymour was incredibly kind and almost too sweet to be real. But she was rather plain and incredibly unsophisticated, and Mary could not imagine how she had caught the King of England's eye.
But she would not complain, as Jane was warmly disposed toward her. Nonetheless, Lady Mary thought that perhaps Lady Stafford would be more valuable as an ally than Jane was.
"I am sorry for everything you have had to bear," Jane said. "I can assure you that your half-sisters will not be received at court much, if it displeases you to see them and be reminded of your time as their servant; I daresay that it would displease me to see them and be reminded of their mother, or when I was her servant."
Clearly this was kindly meant, and Jane assumed that Mary would be appreciative of the thought.
"You do me an injustice, Madam," said Mary coldly, "if you think that I blame innocent children for anything I may have suffered. I do not believe in the sins of the parents reflecting upon the children. I am fond of both Elizabeth and Cecily."
Mary was satisfied to see Jane blush, looking chastised.
"Of course I did not mean to accuse you of any uncharitable thoughts or actions," Jane backtracked. "I only understand how hard it must be for you to watch your half-sisters honored with a title you have been forced to sacrifice, and I can understand not wanting to be faced with it."
"As I will be with your daughters?" Mary added, not harshly. Did Jane not realize that she was continuing where Anne left off? It would be equally hard for Mary to see Jane Seymour's children paraded around as princes and princesses as it would be to see Anne Boleyn's. Mary sighed. "I do not intend to spend much time at court," she said. "I will be leaving for Beaulieu soon. Excuse me," she added, curtsying a little, and taking her leave of Jane.
For her part, Jane was thoroughly confused.
Did Mary not realize that Jane was on her side? That if she had the chance, Jane would restore Mary to her former position as Princess, and bastardize Anne's daughters? Maybe she would like to continue to have her children acknowledged as heirs if she could, but that did not mean she was not Princess Mary's ally. Why could Mary not see that?
22 June 1535
The wedding was a grand one, with lots of dancing, and the court officially ended their mourning for Queen Anne in celebration of the new marriage.
Queen Jane looked beautiful, and Henry was pleased to dance with her and excited for the night; nonetheless, his daughter Mary caught his attention occasionally.
"My daughter Mary is old enough to be married," he reminded his Queen. "I shall have to find a suitable husband for her."
"Has Your Majesty anyone in mind?"
"I have told Norfolk to pick some impoverished Howard boy, about her age, who will be grateful for a large dowry and a good connection," the King said. "I will give him a title and marry him to my daughter."
Queen Jane frowned a little at this. Princess Mary, marrying a Howard? That did not sit well with Jane at all; but she knew it was the King's decision to marry Mary to whomever he pleased.
"Will her mother be allowed to attend the wedding?" Jane asked. "No mother would want to miss such an event."
The King paused thoughtfully. "The marriage will not take place until we have a son," he told her. "I cannot imagine that will happen later than 1537, when we are married for two years. If Katherine has not given in to me by that time, she will not be able to come to the wedding."
Jane forced a smile on her face, though she rather felt like she was going to be sick. The King had just given her a deadline to have a son: their second anniversary, in 1537.
Jane did not want the fate of either of her predecessors.
30 June 1535
The King wanted a husband for his daughter, so the Howards would provide one.
Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, walked purposefully through the halls of Lambeth Palace, the residence where his stepmother, the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, lived with her household and her wards.
When he greeted his stepmother, the Duke decided to forego pleasantries.
"Who do you have here with the Howard name?" he asked.
"Only a few," admitted the Duchess. Most of her wards were Howards through mothers or grandmothers, and at least a few were Tilneys, related to the Dowager Duchess herself. "My daughters are all married, and both of my sons are at court."
"I want to give the King options," the Duke told his stepmother. "I have already decided that your son Thomas will be an option for the Lady Mary's husband; my son Thomas will be another option, though he is several years younger than she is. Who else do we have?"
"We have your brother Edmund's children," she said. "The oldest girl, Margaret, is married. The boys are Henry, Charles, and George, and the other girls are Mary and Kathryn."
Norfolk nodded, ordering for them to be brought to him. Not ten minutes later, three handsome boys walked into the room and bowed. The older two looked like they would be more than suitable for the Lady Mary, though the last one was about the same age as his son Thomas and would probably be deigned too young. Two rather pretty girls, the younger of whom could not be more than fourteen, followed them. Norfolk studied them both appreciatively, wondering how he could use them to his advantage. Now was not the time, not when the King was devoted to Jane Seymour; but when he tired of her, Mary or Kathryn Howard would make him an ideal mistress.
Shaking off this plan for the moment, Norfolk turned toward the three boys.
"All three of you will be coming to court," he ordered. "And, along with my son Thomas and my brother Thomas, you will be courting the Lady Mary, who will chose her husband from among you. Be advised: whomever she choses will be honored with a title and significant finances, so you would be well-advised to try your hardest."
The three boys exchanged amazed looks.
"As for you two," the Duke said, turning toward his nieces, "places are going to be found for you in the Queen's household. My niece Lady Stafford is the chief lady-in-waiting, and assures me that you will be admitted as soon as appropriate places are available."
The girls curtsied and thanked him, the younger one looking particularly animated at the idea.
"You will be more likely to be admitted if your brothers succeed with the Lady Mary," the Duke added. Some pressure from their sisters may do these boys some good. "You boys should pack immediately, we leave in the morning. You girls should be ready to leave at a moment's notice."
With that, the Duke swept dramatically out of the room, leaving his stepmother to deal with the excitement and chaos his news would undoubtedly create.
7 July 1535
"You are not allowed to visit your mother until you are married. You will chose your husband from one of the Howard men I have chosen to court you. You will be married as soon as Queen Jane has given me a son."
There was a part of Mary that was glad to hear this: she wanted a husband, and she wanted children. And she was realistic enough to know that her father would probably never return to her mother and declare her legitimate; not when he had healthy and young Queen Jane on the throne. And since she was not a princess, Mary could not hope for a royal marriage. She had hoped she would at least marry a titled man, but the Howards were a good family, and if it weren't for Anne being one of them, she would be glad it was the Howards and not someone of less noble pedigree. And her husband would be given a title, too. As far as the former princess was concerned, this was an ideal way to show her father that she truly was an obedient daughter who would follow his wishes in all things, including her marriage, and still she was getting some sort of choice. Mary had already dismissed both men called Lord Thomas Howard from among her suitors. The present Duke's son was too young and immature, four years her junior, and thought very highly of herself. The present Duke's half-brother, on the other hand, was in love with Mary's cousin, Lady Margaret Douglas. And while Margaret and Thomas would never be allowed to marry, Mary would not steal her cousin's beau.
That left the three sons of Edmund Howard, and Mary had eliminated George, the youngest immediately. He was three years her junior, and while he was not haughty like his cousin, he was nonetheless too immature. That left her between Henry and Charles.
"My lady," said a voice, and Mary turned to see Charles Howard, one of her suitors. "I am sorry to interrupted you. I can leave."
Strangely, Mary did not mind his presence. He was always kind to her, and offered to withdraw if she ever looked uncomfortable, or if he thought she wished to be alone. And he was a good listener, too, which Mary knew was something that she needed.
"No," said Mary, "please. What is it you need?"
Hesitantly, Charles handed over a letter to her.
"This is from my sister Margaret, Lady Arundel," he said. "She begs pardon at writing to you unprompted, but insists that the letter contains important information for you. I have not read it," he added, when she opened her mouth to inquire, "and Margaret has not taken me into her confidence."
"Thank you," said Mary, placing the letter gently in her bag. "That was kind of you."
"Hardly," he said. "I am rather afraid of my sister. Oh, and she begs me to tell you that anything in that letter that gives you cause for doubt can be confirmed by any of our sisters – Mary or Kathryn at Lambeth, and our half-sisters Isabel, Joyce, and Margaret here at court."
"Thank you," she said.
"Don't thank me," he bowed, withdrawing. "I shall leave you to your letter."
For a moment Mary stared after him, thinking to herself that he was very handsome. Then she turned her attention to the letter.
To the Lady Mary, daughter of the great King Henry,
Forgive my insolence at writing to you so freely, Lady Mary, but the situation regarding my brothers has come to my attention through the correspondence I have with my sister Mary, who was at Lambeth with my brothers when the circumstances first came about. I know that there are a number of Howard boys that my lady must be considering, and I doubt that this letter will even be a necessity. But on the off chance that it is, I need to send it to you.
My lady, I beg you, do not marry my brother Henry.
I warn you this because Henry is a foul-tempered boy, and the Dowager Duchess, my step-grandmother, compares her often to my uncle, Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk. And while the Duke is crafty and good at what he does, he is not a good husband.
My aunt, his wife, the former Lady Elizabeth Stafford, suffers many abuses from him; their marriage is not a happy one, and I know that the Duchess would have liked someone to warn her as I am warning you now. My brother has never hit me, as I am older than he is, but on multiple occasions he has struck one of my sisters, Mary and Kathryn. And while I do not condemn nor argue that a man has a right to punish his wife or sisters has he sees fit, you are right now neither one, and have the chance of not becoming such. If given the choice between any number of men, the last one I would chose would be the one who has hit his female relations before.
You may chose to disregard this letter, my lady, if that is your choice. And I beg pardon again for writing so hastily and informally to you; I hope that this letter was not necessary. Whomever you chose, I wish you the utmost happiness in your life. Your servant,
Margaret, Lady Arundel
Lady Mary stared at the letter for a long time.
It was strange, the way Lady Arundel had encouraged her to chose someone other than her brother Henry. Would she not want to see her brother titled and rich?
Perhaps she had known that Mary had narrowed it down to just Henry and Charles, and had hoped that this letter would encourage Mary to pick Charles; it was possible that she was closer to him. He was, after all, the one she had chosen to deliver this letter. But how would she have known? And she didn't mention Charles once in the letter….
Mary shook her head to ward off the confusion. When she reached her suite of rooms, she quickly locked the letter away in a personal space that her ladies would never dare look.
She would bide her time, and not announce her decision immediately, but Lady Mary Tudor was going to marry Charles Howard.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm trying to give Mary a happy ending in this story, because it seems like she is always the one left out when everyone else gets one, so this chapter was mostly about her. I also got the Mary/Charles Howard idea from ReganX's One the Edge of a Golden World, and absolutely loved them together. Please review!