This chapter is dedicated to VainXLifePoetess, who turned it around quickly enough for you all to have a Christmas update! Thanks a million, milady! As for the rest of you, please enjoy this, review and have a very Merry Christmas!
Chapter 26
We didn't hear from the French for over a month, but even before we had heard from them, Anne made it plain that she was having misgivings about the way that I was going about organising Blanche's betrothal.
She caught me coming back from hawking with Edward one morning and, as I dismounted from Rosette, the dapple-grey hunter Edward had presented me with on the occasion of our first wedding anniversary, made her half-curtsy to me.
"Cousin," I greeted teasingly, yet with a note of warning in my voice. I hated it when she treated me too formally and she knew I hated it.
With an absent nod, she rose, "May I speak to you about Blanche's betrothal, Elizabeth?"
"Of course. Walk with me,"
I offered Anne the place at my side with a slight gesture. She stepped into it and my ladies fell back a pace or two to give us at least the illusion of privacy.
I could tell Anne was struggling to put her emotions into words, so patiently waited out her silence; waited until she finally burst out, "Have you even actually told Blanche that you're seeking to organise her betrothal?"
I bit my lip almost imperceptibly. This was the one topic that I had hoped to avoid. I would eagerly discuss any detail of, or indeed anything to do with, Blanche's betrothal, except whether or not I had actually told the bride to be.
Avoiding Anne's keen gaze, I refused to say anything, but even so, she read between the lines of my silence.
"Elizabeth! You have to tell her!"
"Not until it's signed and sealed!" I pleaded. Suddenly desperate, I turned to Anne and grabbed both her wrists, begging her as her younger cousin rather than as her Queen.
"Please, Anne, not until it's signed and sealed! You know how much Blanche hates change. Telling her of this before everything's finalised will only unsettle her. I'm trying to protect her. Honestly."
"It's not that I don't believe that you mean well, but she'll never forgive you. Elizabeth, think about what you're doing. You're giving her in marriage to a widower who's more than twice her age. And you haven't even warned her. She'll never forgive you."
"But she'll do it. She'll do it for me and for England. Because she loves us both. And I'm trying to secure her the most glittering future I possibly can. How many girls get to be titular Queen of France from the age of thirteen? Blanche will understand. I'm only trying to do my best for her. She'll understand," I repeated forcefully, but the words rang hollow, partly because I was unsure if I was trying to convince Anne or myself. Anne shook her head. "I'm not so sure. Have you forgotten about your aunt, Princess Mary? She married a man older than her and ended up childless. She came back less than a year later and married for love. You married for love. Are you not going to give Blanche that chance, at least? And what about Diane de Poitiers? You're going to make Blanche fight her for King Henri's affections? You know she'll never win."
"I'm not so sure about that, you know. Blanche can be a charming little vixen when she wants to be. Besides, you yourself said that Diane would never want to be Queen. And she knows better than anyone that King Henri needs another son to secure the succession. She'll let Blanche have her rights as a wife, I'm sure of it."
"And that's really what you want for your sister? A practically loveless marriage? I don't believe it of you, Elizabeth."
"It's what England needs," I retorted. "It's not like it doesn't hurt, but I know I'm doing what's best for my country. It's what I've been taught to do. You know that."
In the face of my certainty, Anne shook her head despairingly. "I still think you're doing the wrong thing by not telling her. If you won't tell her, then I will."
"Not until everything's finalised," I insisted, "I give you permission to tell her, but not until everything's finalised. That's my final word on the subject."
With that, I picked up my skirts and swept away to join my husband in our little daughter's nursery.
Katherine was a complete treasure. I could forget everything else when I was with her, and that's what I wanted to do right now.
A few weeks later, the French envoy arrived at Court and I made sure to hold a banquet to welcome him to England. My father in law, the Duke of Suffolk, acted as his host during his stay, but, to my relief, even though Edward and I were still young, it was to us that the envoy turned.
The very first night after the banquet, His Excellency made sure to ask after my health, now that I had returned to Court from my confinement – and that of our infant daughter.
"Forgive me if this is imprudent, Your Majesty, but I have heard that Her Highness the Princess Katherine is a bonny child. Might I be permitted to see her?"
Laughing gaily at the compliment, I answered "How could something which is true be imprudent, Count Montgomery? Katherine is indeed a beauty and of course you may see her. I'll send a woman to the nursery."
"No, don't do that. I'll go," Edward interjected, rising to his feet as he spoke. Count Montgomery stared after him as he descended the steps of the dais and strode out of the Dining Hall.
"Your husband fetches the Princess himself? Does he not trust the women in her household?"
"Of course he does. We trust Lady Dudley and Lady Latimer implicitly. But Edward dotes on Katherine."
"As in fact, do we all, Your Excellency," my father in law interrupted, "She may only be two months old, but Her Highness is already known as the Thornless Rose of England."
As my father in law spoke, I watched the French Ambassador closely to see his reaction to the nickname. After all, the last "Rosa sine Spina" had been my mother, Queen Katherine Howard, and we all knew how her story ended.
However, if His Excellency had any misgivings, he concealed them admirably, beckoning a servant to pour him more wine and lapsing into silence until my herald announced, "His Highness the Great Lord of England and Her Highness the Princess Katherine!"
My husband came down the length of the Hall, our daughter cradled in his arms. Despite myself, I melted at the sight of her and held out my arms to take her into my embrace.
"Come here, Katherine darling. Come to Mama."
As I perched her on my lap, I smoothed down her soft dark hair. For all she bore her maternal grandmother's name, she was promising to look a lot more like her father than me or my mother.
Katherine let out a soft coo of delight at my caresses and the Ambassador smiled.
"She is charming, Your Majesty. Your Highness. Might I be permitted to hold her?"
"Of course. Have you ever seen a prettier girl?" I yielded my daughter over to His Excellency, placing a warning hand on Edward's sleeve to prevent him from hovering over them too protectively. I didn't think the Ambassador would dare hurt Katherine, not in front of both of us and almost our entire court.
And anyway, Katherine was enjoying the attention. She gurgled happily, flailing her little arms around excitedly. When she caught the Ambassador's emerald chain with a hand, however, I thought it would be prudent to intervene. Untangling the two of them, I tapped Katherine's hand in a gentle scolding and then scooped her back into my arms.
"No, Katherine. You can't do that. Come here."
Rocking her gently, I basked in the adoring glances we were garnering from those courtiers who were sitting close enough to realise how much I loved my daughter and, partly for their benefit, dropped a light kiss on to her tiny forehead.
Katherine stayed with us for a few more minutes, but the crowds soon began to unsettle her and she began to fuss and squirm in my arms.
Coincidentally, that was just when Count Montgomery had begun to talk about Blanche's betrothal, so I made a joke of it, saying "Her Highness knows we're not talking about her any more. She doesn't like it when she's not the centre of attention."
Count Montgomery smiled politely and Edward took Katherine from me to try to soothe her, but it soon became clear that that would be impossible and I shook my head at him.
"She's probably over-tired. Just give her to Kat. She can take her back to Lady Dudley."
"I'll take her."
"No, Edward. Stay. It's what people expect of you."
With that hissed piece of advice, I turned back to Count Montgomery, my diplomat's smile fixed firmly in place.
"Forgive me, Your Excellency. A mother's concern. Pray, tell me again, what does your master say about the possibility of my sister the Princess Blanche becoming his bride?"
"My master is honoured by the proposal and he hopes to be able to agree once certain matters have been sorted out. For example, he is worried about the loss of land this agreement would cause him, even if only temporarily."
"Of course he is," I said smoothly, glancing quickly at Edward. We had discussed this before. Knowing what I wanted from him, he replied easily in my stead.
"We realise that this would be an inconvenience for your master, but we hope that our allowing merchants who trade under the protection of a French Charter to trade in English ports free of charge whilst we have control of the Pas-du-Calais will ease his concerns over this particular matter. The agreement would of course once Blanche weds His Majesty, except that it would be implemented in Irish ports, rather than English ones."
"I see. I will convey Your Highness's words to my master and give you his response as quickly as possible."
"We look forward to it," Edward answered, nodding. "But for now, let us eat. Shall I call in the jesters, Elizabeth?"
"Please. If you would," I agreed, turning my attention to the plate of venison that was rapidly growing cold before me.
Within a fortnight, King Henri had agreed to the new terms Edward and I had suggested and promised to betroth himself to my sister. The moment I had his agreement to our proposal in my hands, I snapped into action. Calling for pen and ink, I wrote to Anne.
"Anne,
It's done. King Henri has agreed. I'm looking for the ceremony to take place at Michelmas. I leave it to you to tell Blanche.
Elizabeth"
Giving that to a page, I sat back in my chair, determined to forget all about the matter for the moment. Dismissing the matter from my mind might have seemed callous, but Michelmas was months away. I couldn't afford to worry about it now.
Anne never told me exactly when she told Blanche that I was planning to marry the latter off to the French King, but I guessed. I guessed from the sudden lack of letters that I got from Ireland. Only something this momentous could ever cause Blanche to stop writing to me.
And when she returned from Ireland and came flying into my rooms in a temper, without even bothering to change first, well, then I knew I was in trouble. I knew that I would have to unleash the famous Tudor temper, the one I had inherited from my father, if I was ever to make Blanche bend to my will.
"How could you? Elizabeth, how could you?"
The fact that she had called me Elizabeth did not go unnoticed. It stung bitterly, goading me to my feet even sooner than I had intended.
"Is that any way to speak to your Queen?"
"You promised me that you'd never do this! You promised!"
"I never promised you anything! You knew this day would come. You're thirteen; you knew you'd have to marry someday!"
"Not to an old…Not to a man more than twice my age, I didn't!"
"That "old man" as I know you're thinking, is the King of France! There's barely a more glittering match in Europe!"
"I don't care! I'll not go through with it!"
"Yes you will! By God, you will, Blanche! I am your Queen and you are my subject! You'll do as I tell you!"
"I'm no ordinary subject, Elizabeth! I'm your sister! I'm a Tudor just as much as you are! George said you'd remember that! He said you'd never -"
"George? What has George to do with this? He might be Earl of Ormonde, but he knows nothing of State politics! Nothing! If I say that you're to marry the King of France, then by all the saints, you will marry the King of France! Some Englishwoman has to!"
"Well, find another bride for him then! One of our cousins or something! Because I certainly won't!" Blanche screamed, about to spin on her heel and run from the room.
"And Mama's memory? Our Howard blood? Don't you care for that, Blanche? Don't you want to prove that our mother, Katherine Howard was just as good as any other Queen of England? Don't you want to show the rest of the world that you're proud to be the daughter of England's Rose Without A Thorn?"
Blanche froze halfway to the door and I knew I had her.
"That's what I'm trying to do, Blanche," I urged gently. "I'm trying to prove that Mama's blood isn't a deficit to me. I'm trying to prove that her blood is just as good as anyone else's; even any other Queen's. Don't you want to help me do that? Don't you want to become Queen of France and help me prove it?"
Blanche hesitated a moment longer, before she spat, "Fine. Fine! I'll do it! For her memory, I'll do it. For her. But not for anyone else."
Then she stormed from the room, leaving me to sink into a chair with relief.
To Blanche's credit, she didn't break her word. She arrived in the chapel on the appointed morning and even managed to force some kind of a smile to her lips as she pledged her troth to King Henri of France.
With that done, I was too relieved even to care that she spent hours closeted with George Boleyn, often scarcely attended except for our sisters the twins, or that she danced with him half a dozen times on the very night of her betrothal feast.
After all, she was still young and her world was changing around her. I let it pass.
I let it pass because she was Blanche, Queen of France by courtesy now and that was all that mattered. That was all that mattered.