The new day dawned. Mary did not want to start the day out with the broken pieces of yesterday. Sometimes it's just so hard not to. Even though she still felt the sting of rejection from her father, she did her best to not let it defeat her. Now is the time to pick herself up and move on, after having cried her heart out with Charles last night. Her father may have taken away her eligibility for the crown, but the one in her soul is more worthy.
Plus as she laid there, last night, with both head and heart aching, she turned to her husband. With her mouth, she stated "I feel sorry for my father. He has caused me so much pain. But he must have a lot of pain inside himself, in order to treat me in this manner. He must have. Surely he's not this cruel?"
Charles held her head to his chest, running his fingers through her brown locks. "Darling I don't know. Your father is erratic at best, selfish at worst." The king is confused, that much is clear. His thoughts are more twisted than George Boleyn's devious personality.
When he said that she agreed. So instead of wishing him pain, like he's caused her, she wishes him healing. That's what he needs, healing and whole health. Just because her father sees not her worth, doesn't mean she isn't worthy. This has been hard for her to understand, her own worth. Moving it from her mind to her heart is the problem, but it's getting easier with her husband by her side. He helps, especially when the darkness threatens to consume.
Even on her worst day, Charles pulls her close and holds her tight. He stays with her and fights for her, not giving up. He walked into her as if he has always belonged there. The warmth of his smile and charming nature pulled her in. He's the healer of her scars. She loves him, her Duke.
This new day is a new opportunity. Opportunity filled with new thoughts, new chances, new strength. So she greeted the day with hope. No matter how much it hurts her now, hopefully, one day she can look back and realize her struggles have changed her for the better.
Trying to get out of bed as quietly as possible, she turned to roll over. But Charles threw an arm over her, keeping her firmly in place. She silently huffed and tried it again, by ever so gently wiggling down from his arm. Then a leg became draped over both of hers. Either he's asleep and has no idea what he's doing, or he's awake and knows fully well.
"Stop moving and go back to sleep," his groggy voice told her.
Smiling she turned over to face him. Her eyes took him in, while her fingers danced over his skin. He has a little bit of scruff on his face and is in need of a shave. However, personally, she loves his scruff. It tickles her skin, but it's SO manly looking and he is ALL man. His eyes opened and caught her own. She explained, "I need to get up and start the day."
"No. You need to lie here with your husband and let him take care of you." He scooted closer to her and locked his leg with her own again. "How are you this morning?"
The intensity of his eyes always finds her out. "I cannot deny I am still sad, but I cannot let it get me down anymore. He hurts me and hurts me and hurts me, yet I still want his fatherly affection. Does that make me absurd?" she wondered. Her eyes turned down in an effort to stave off the sting of her father's rejection again, which is welling up inside her.
Then she felt her husband's arms go around her, as he scooted even closer. So close she can feel every inch of his body. His blue pools of love bore into her. "No. He's your father and despite the fact he hurt you, you still love him." He wants to ask her a question, a serious question. One that even he is shocked to think because the king is his best friend. But he pushed the question down for another day. Although he really wants to know, at what point will she say enough? At what point will she stop caring for the man? Everyone has a breaking point, even the best of people like his wife.
"Mary, just don't let him make you bitter. His betrayal of your trust is not a reflection of who you are. It's a reflection of him. You're angry, hurt, disappointed, and upset but just don't. Don't be resentful." He hugged her strong and long and didn't let her leave until she knew she was loved.
Over breakfast, a request came for Mary in the form of a short letter. Reading the note she chuckled. Charles asked what was funny. "Lady Flora requires my presence as soon as I am able to arrive," she told him.
He scoffed and stated "I require your presence too, wife. I thought we could spend the day together." His fingers picked up a piece of bacon. He put it in his mouth and chewed. It was rather tough, but if he said anything to Cook then he would be starting a kitchen war.
"Charles, really? I know your line of thinking. Yes, we would have fun together, but at some point, you would work your Duke of Suffolk charm on me. Then I would have to attend to your needs, which I already did this morning before coming to break our fast," she reminded him.
Pointing his fork at her, Charles let her know "I hear no complaints from you about attending to my needs, as you call it. You like my needs."
A smile she had been holding in escaped. "It's true. I do. I love your needs, but I have a Dowager Countess to call on." She stood and whispered in her husband's ear. "If you're a good boy, I will attend to your needs again later."
Forgoing food, he pulled her into his lap. "I promise I will be the best boy in the whole kingdom. I'll even play nicely with others. Although I still hate sharing." His eyes locked with her as he said the last part about sharing, letting her know she is his. He kissed her goodbye with a smooch to her lips and neck, and a soft caress to her cheek.
If she stayed in his lap any longer, she would be in danger of swooning. Instead, she got up, squeezed his hand, and left the room to go visit Lady Flora. As she waited for Dot, she heard Charles shout out "Don't be gone long." Her eyes may have rolled.
When their carriage arrived at the Dowager's house, the footman let them out and Harris let them into the house. Mary and Dot greeted him, but the snooty butler only grumbled in reply. He led them to the sitting room, where Lady Flora waited dressed in a fine red silk gown.
"Finally. I thought I was going to have to send the falcons," she told them as she sipped her tea. At least they think it's tea.
Mary and Dot sat on the lady's comfortable sofa. They are curious why she wanted them to come so early. Which is why Mary asked, "Lady Flora what is it that you need our presence for so early?"
Not amused, Lady Flora put her teacup down. "Can't a person invite people they like over? Does there have to be a reason?" She stared them down. "Oh alright. My maid is leaving. She's pregnant and going into confinement. I don't understand how she can be so selfish?" Both the Duchess and Dot laughed. Then the Dowager Countesses asked "I know what your father has done. How are you?"
Mary knew that was her true motivation for this meeting. "I am hurting and not really understanding of how he could do this. I am left to wonder if he ever loved me at all."
The Countess told her "Because My Dear, a lack of compassion and love is as vulgar as wearing diamonds to a poor house. Your father is vulgar in many ways, the main one being his treatment of you and your mother. Now, I heard you are to attend that woman's coronation." This is what she calls the king's mistress, "that woman".
Nodding Mary then shared. "I don't want to go. The king is making me attend. It's all for show. He is also putting me last in line for the throne to unborn children from the woman." She sighed and a few tears escaped her eyes.
"Chin up. Don't let your invisible tiara fall," Lady Flora looked at her with a stern expression. Then she went on to say, "No. You are not a princess anymore. Yes. He is calling you illegitimate. I refuse to say that other word. It's vulgar and crass. A poor substitute for wit. As I have told you before you are not in a bad position here. We're going to turn your pain into power." She rang the bell and Harris came rushing to her.
"Harris, go fetch me my book," she directed him. Turning back to the two girls, she spoke some more. "You are the Duchess of Suffolk. You may not be the queen of the country, but you are the queen of the Duchy. Therefore you have one objective. In chess what does the queen do?"
With a blank look, Mary tried to remember. It's been so long since she last played. Plus she has never been very good at it. Interrupting her, the older woman clucked her tongue. "Oh, my word. Tell me the two of you don't know how to play chess? Lord. I have my hands full this time I see." She shook her head in reprimand. "The queen always has one goal in the game. Think ladies. Think!"
Mary searched her brain, as did Dot (who has never played chess). A flicker of remembrance came to life inside the Duchess. She stammered out, "The- the king, I think. It protects the king."
"Finally the light has dawned. Now, who is your king?" The Countess stared her down.
Oh, Lord! Thinking about this is more mutinous than lessons with Lady Salisbury. Mary stated "My father. He is the king."
Tapping her foot hard on the floor, Flora admonished her. "No, no, no." Before she could continue Harris brought the book she requested. "Thank you, Harris. I will call for you later." Her attention back on the Duchess, she questioned again "Who is your king?"
If it's not her father, then it has to be "The Lord God. My Heavenly Father is the king." The Countess closed her eyes as she shook her head. Mary thought further. If her king is not her father on earth, if it's not the Lord either, then maybe "My husband?"
"Praise the Lord I am saved. Yes. Your husband is your king and you are his queen. As his queen, it is your job to make him look good in every way. You want your father's attention, even though at some point you must move past that. Wanting a man's approval who does not want yours is disgraceful. Don't disgrace yourself any further than you must with him. You have the affections of your Lord Husband now. You must let that be enough," she declared to her young friend.
Mary couldn't help it. She cried. Her mind knows what Lady Flora says is true. But he's her father. Her heart needs time to catch up with her mind. She took the handkerchief Dot held out to her and wiped her eyes.
Feeling nothing but compassion, the Countess articulated more information. "Back to the matter at hand. You want your father's attention. Sadly you are going to have to work for it. This is how you do it. Your goal at this chicanery of a coronation is two-fold. One, to make your husband look good by making yourself look good in the eyes of the snobbery of the court. The second objective is to extend trade with other Lords of the kingdom." She opened the book Harris brought her, which had been placed on the small table beside her.
Putting her spectacles on, the Countess scanned the page. Then taking them down, she peered at Mary again. "We have our work cut out for us. You have been away from court far too long. While your manners are polished, they are not impeccable for court. Things have changed since you were left wilting in Ludlow. Style has changed. Your dresses are good for the country." She motioned to the meticulously printed dress the Duchess wore.
Then she noted, "The peasants don't know the difference, but the savages of the court will. You need a whole new wardrobe, as well as review lessons on etiquette. Followed up with lessons on who's who among the nobility. And according to my datebook." She held it out in front of her and once again put the spectacles on.
"We only have three weeks' time to do this in. It will take a miracle. I am not Jesus. I cannot turn water into wine, but I can turn a princess into a queen. I have done it once and will do it for the last time. But you must help this process along by studying and reviewing with Lady Dot." Flora's attention turned to the other lady in the room. "Don't think I have forgotten about you, Dear. I have not."
Dot's hands began to perspire. She does not like the gleam in the Countess's eye. This speaks of hard work, which she hates. On the other hand, Mary could not be more thankful. She hadn't even thought of her out-of-date fashion, manners, and courtly knowledge. If she didn't have the Dowager Countess's help, then the coronation would have made a fool of her.
That is when a thought struck her down like an arrow to the heart. "He was setting me up!" She stood up and began pacing and speaking. "He was setting me up to look an idiot at the coronation! The Whore already hates me. She would have brutalized me for my fashion, my manners, and my courtly knowledge." Now she's just really, really angry.
Taking the spectacles off, Lady Flora addressed this. "Forgive me but your father is too dim-witted to think of such a thing as that. No. Make no mistake he wants to use you to make the woman jealous. However, the woman's treatment of you would be an off-branch of all the things you stated. So regardless, yes, you are being set up. But not to worry. I have a plan." She rang the bell.
The portly butler entered the room. "You rang My Lady?"
The Dowager Countess informed the man. "Yes, Harris. Take the ladies into the tea room. You will begin their lessons." She made known to the girls of her intentions. "Harris will be reviewing etiquette with you both. He is known for his refinery lessons in Scotland." Turning her attention back to the butler, she reminded him "And Harris, do try not to be such an elitist. Now all of you go, so I can drink my wine in peace and quiet."
As Harris led them to the tea room, Mary wondered what she has gotten herself into. Perhaps, though, this is the opportunity for the fresh start she needs but never knew how to go about. Her chance to refashion herself into something better than she was before.
Just like the sun as it rose this morning, she will keep on being her true self even if no one is watching. And with the aid of her husband, the Dowager Countess, and her friends, she will rise too.