The feast for Princess Elizabeth is not nearly as grand as the one held for his wife. Charles remembers the feast for then Princess Mary. Which he doesn't care to dwell on for too long, as it shows his age. It was spectacular and a huge grandiose affair. It lasted for three weeks. The bells rang every hour on the hour for one whole day, on the order of the King. The heralds went to every estate and village proclaiming her birth. Flowers, baskets of food, and other fine things had been delivered to the castle, from the people of the kingdom, all because England had an heir... Princess Mary.
Poor Princess Elizabeth, by contrast, did not have bells all day long. They rang out only once, and that was to alert everyone of the birth. The heralds did not go to every estate and village either. They only announced it on London square. The people did not send gifts and the feast was paltry. It was still lavish, but not as joyous. Mainly because His Majesty is without joy himself.
Though he wears a smile upon his face, Charles knows it's his fake one. Having known his friend for ages, he's aware of all of the King's moods. This to be certain is artificial and devoid of any true emotion. Which is sad but not surprising. And a part of the Duke is happy about it.
It's terrible to be happy the King is miserable, but he cannot help feeling that way. The way Henry has treated his Mary is reprehensible. So part of him wants to say "You get the misery you give." Part of him is also happy because now the Boleyns are knocked down a peg, especially the Vicious Queen. Who, by the way, does not look as joyful as before either.
But then the other part of him, the part that has grown up, cannot help but feel sorry for the new princess. It's not the girl's fault she is a girl. And unfortunately, he knows all too well what kind of future awaits her. The same as his own wife. The same treatment will befall Elizabeth as it had Mary. The father in him cringes.
Which reminds him, he needs to pack because he is leaving tomorrow. Not a moment too soon actually. It was when the Queen turned to speak to both Henry and himself that a fit of cold anger washed over him. The blackened words that left her mouth are "The new Princess is in need of servants and maids for her own house. Don't you think, My Love, that the Grand Duchess would be a good choice for one of her ladies in wait? It would teach her her place."
Before Henry could speak, Charles did. "I think that in my wife's particular condition it would not serve anyone well, especially a Princess, for her to be a lady in wait." There is no way in the darkest part of hell that he will let his sweetheart go off to be a lady in wait to this monster's child— princess or no princess.
The Queen wore a frown and her eyes were like glass. But Henry cut her off and asked "What is wrong with my daughter?"
As if he cares, but Charles responded all the same. "Well Majesty, she is in her own confinement. She is expecting and should be delivered early next month. It's also why I need to leave on the morrow and return to Wales. There's a possibility the birth could come early." There is also no way he is sharing they're having twins.
At the news the King actually became sincere. His fake smile fell for a real one. "We are to be a grandfather then?" The Duke nodded his head. "Oh ho! This is great news! A grandchild!"
Cutting in on his joy, Her Majesty remarked. "I still think after she gives birth, she can be sent to Hatfield."
Before he turned his head to look at his wife, Charles noticed a storm brewing in his friend's eyes. "Madam you over speak. I will allow it this time and chalk it up to having birthed a babe. Her Highness, the Grand Duchess, is to deliver her own babe. She cannot be a lady in wait. And even if she could, she will not. That is below her station."
It was then the Queen yelled out "She is a bastard!" All eyes had turned to the dais where the King and Queen sat. Deadly silence ruled the room until His Majesty spoke.
"Madam, I think you are worn out and tired from all of this festivity. You are in need of a lie-down." His eyes bore into hers with a dark venom only seen pointed at his enemies.
It did not escape anyone's notice that he called her Madam. The Queen looking particularly phony with her false expressions of happiness did not utter another word. She got up and left the feast and the room along with her own ladies. As for the King, he excused his friend to go pack and ready himself to leave.
Without haste, Charles Brandon did just that. Although late in the night, a knock sounded at his door. The guards announced the King. He threw a shirt on to look semi-decent, as he's taken to sleeping in his breeches while here. After finding Lady Tibbit on top of his bed, he wasn't sure who he might wake up beside.
The King stepped into the space and sat in a chair. "Charles I need to ask you a serious question." His expression is stern and thoughtful. Sitting opposite of him, Charles pleaded for him to continue and offered a glass of wine. Henry motioned for him to set it on the table between them. What he said next left Charles dumbfounded. "Have any of the women you've bedded ever lied to you about their virginity?" He sipped at the wine.
Of all the things he could have asked that was not the one the Grand Duke expected. "Notwithstanding your daughter, I would say it's the other way around. Have any of them not lied about it?" An incredible and awkward silence reigned over the chamber. Both men sipped the wine.
His Majesty looked off in the distance. "Hmm... You've given me much to think about. I asked you for the truth and you gave it to me. Do you need the Royal Physician to accompany you to Wales? He could be of good help at the birth." No. He does not need that buffoon and told his father-in-law as much (but leaving the buffoon part out). Then Henry asked him to send word of the birth. "Despite what people think I do care for Mary. She is well? I know her mother had birthing issues and I don't want the same to befall her also."
Charles wanted to laugh at that but refrained. "Thank you, Majesty. I will be sure to pass your kind words along to my wife. Mary is strong and brave. She has had good care from our doctor in Cardiff and the pregnancy has been fine so far. It's expected for her to deliver safely."
The King was relieved to hear this. He wished his friend well and retired to his chambers. This left the Duke alone, thinking by the fire. He still can't help but wonder why Henry asked such a question as he did. Regardless, he cannot wait to see his sweetheart.
The next morning, saw the Grand Duke depart the palace. Except he wanted to test a theory, so two carriages departed the castle. One is the Duke's carriage he uses at Suffolk and the other is the one he rode in from Wales. The Wales carriage left first carrying a "decoy Duke" and the other departed later carrying the real one. Both took separate routes. The first one took the same route it traveled to get to London and the second one took a longer route from going on to Hereford (whom he is now good friends with the Viscount there) and then to Cardiff.
A curious thing that the Suffolk carriage arrived long before the first one ever did. By time and distance, the Wales carriage should have long ago made it to the manor. However, it appeared hours later to which Charles and Jeffery were told of another ambush on the route in Gloucester. It made them both pause and take note of all the attacks. The Grand Duke also informed Jeffery of the thoughtless murder of Sir Robert. The two began putting a plan together. But this came after Charles greeted his beloved wife.
He had only been gone two and a half weeks, but it seems the bump has expanded even further. She did not notice him as she was standing talking to Lady Dot about something in the gardens. However, Lady Dot did see him and he held a finger to his lips. She gave him a smile and set her attention back on the Duchess.
Walking as quietly as he can, he reached Mary and put his arms around her and their children. His mouth kissed the side of her neck. In his arms, she turned around and tried to embrace him, but the babies got in the way. With tears, she told him "I love you and have missed you so much." He kissed her, then bent down and kissed the babies.
They kicked inside the womb and she let out a groan. "Are you alright?" he asked. It was the first time she had audibly reacted.
Taking his hand, she placed it back on the bump. "I'm fine, truly. Now that I am at my thirty-fourth week they are a lot less active. Although when they do move, their movements seem to cause minor pain, especially when one of them decides to kick my side. It aches. But I have found they enjoy being sung or read to."
A horrible thought crossed his mind. "You don't read them that rubbish poetry do you?"
She gave him a look. "Unlike you, they love the poetry. Every time I read they move."
Laughing, Charles told her "That's them trying to escape it." She rolled her eyes at this. However, as she went to turn her vision blurred, which Doctor Pearce told her is common because her hormones are now all over the place. Reaching out she grabbed onto Charles, who became worried. "We're going inside. You need to sit and put your feet up." Not trusting her to walk after what just occurred, he picked her up and carried her up the stairs to their bedroom.
Marveling at his strength, she smiled broadly. "How you managed to make it up all the stairs with me I'll never know. Especially since I'm as huge as a house." While he was changing outfits to more comfortable clothing, he had her tell him of any news here at home as well as other symptoms she's plagued with.
At first, she didn't want to tell him because it's just a bunch of boring dialogue about pregnancy stuff. But he insisted so she did. "Well, my feet swell a lot more now and it makes it difficult to walk and balance myself. I think that leads to blurred vision. I'm really tired all the time, but Doctor Pearce assures me all of this is normal. Plus I feel them moving towards the birth canal. He told me I need to watch for signs of that because then it wouldn't be much longer before they arrive. He and Mrs. Nevitt visited me yesterday and checked their placement. As long as their heads are positioned to come out first then the birthing should be OK."
By now he had come to lie on the bed with her. That was a lot for him to take in. "But the babies are fine right? They're in the correct position?"
Her hand rested on his cheek and caressed it. He nuzzled into it. "Yes. They're fine and turned fine too. The only other interesting thing to note is Lady Flora believes she knows who the culprit of the ambush is. If anyone would it's her, but we haven't had a chance to discuss it yet. Her son took sick and she went to visit him in Scotland. I received a missive from her saying she should return in two weeks."
That is news to him. If the Dowager Countess can help him in that matter then he will be forever thankful. And she will be invited to every holiday feast here on out, not that she wouldn't anyway as she's a favorite of his wife.
Then Mary asked "How is my father? Did he get the son he always wanted?"
Reclining his back onto the pillows propped up on the headboard, their talk turned to her new half-sibling. He took her hand and began stroking it. "A son was not meant to be for the King. Instead, you have a new sister, Elizabeth."
He patiently waited for her reaction, which was less than he had thought. For all she said was "Oh". His eyebrows raised. Her voice spoke true. "I can only imagine my father's reaction. I feel sorry for her, this new little girl. It will be a hard thing, realizing how unwanted you are. And how fares the Evil Stepmonster?"
With a chuckle, he told her "Your father had a horrible reaction to the announcement of the girl." He remembers the chess pieces going this way and that, scattered on the floor. "I would say this is a just punishment for The Whore and her family. But like you, My Darling, I do feel sorry for the babe. Also, the court knows of your pregnancy." He heard a gasp of breath. Her eyes sought him in question. "It had to be made known as Her Evil Majesty wanted to make you a lady in wait to the new princess. Which there's no way in hell I would allow it."
Her eyes and forehead crinkled in disgust. "Are you serious? That devious, foul woman wanted that of me?"
Charles leaned over and kissed the wrinkles away. "I'm surprised you're shocked. That's when I let the court know about you being pregnant and how you cannot serve in that capacity. To which your father agreed. He silenced the woman completely on the idea. What is surprising is his reaction to being a grandfather. He seems thrilled with it."
For once she has pleased her father with something. "Did you tell him we're having twins?"
Shaking his head no, Charles laid back down and snuggled close to his wife's side. His arm drifted over her and his leg locked with hers. "No. No one outside of our home and acquaintances needs to know about that until the time comes when we have to present them." Not another word was said. They loved each other and cuddled in the silence of the room. But both wondered at the thought of if their twins are boys.
Week thirty-five of the pregnancy went by really fast. Nothing changed except the babies inching further down the canal. Until finally on a Thursday morning, during week thirty-six, Mary's water broke. She was sitting on the couch in the downstairs great room. A feeling came over her and she knew that the minute she stood up the water would go everywhere. Calmly she turned to Dot. "Dot please go tell Lady Enid to send for the doctors. I am about to go into labor." Her friend's eyes grew large with surprise. "And then tell Sir Glyn to fetch Charles."
Dot immediately got up and set about doing those things. Joan returned with her, along with Lady Enid. They helped her to stand and sure enough, the water broke. While one of the maids cleaned up the mess, Charles rushed into the room. He cradled his wife's face in his hands and held her gaze. "You're OK?" She nodded yes.
Without warning, he did the same thing he had done on his return. He picked her up and carried her upstairs to their bedroom, and helped her change into a nightgown. The ladies followed after and soon Doctor Pearce, Mrs. Nevitt, and the apprentice appeared.
The doctor bid Mary lay on the bed as Edmund ushered His Lordship out of the room. When he was allowed to come back inside, he was told "Her Ladyship has a ways to go yet. I will leave Mrs. Nevitt and return in an hour. In the meantime, I suggest getting comfortable and going on a walk. Perhaps all over this great house." He turned and left with Edmund.
Charles thought the man a bit touched and perhaps more like the quack in the palace than originally considered. However, that was his own nerves and frustration kicking in. After the midnight hour, he realized the doctor had been correct in his assessment, as his wife is still not ready to give birth. When Edmund came out of the bedroom, he asked the apprentice "Is this normal, this kind of long labor?" Because he worried if there might be something wrong.
The courteous, organized man let His Highness know "It is actually. Why just last week, we attended to a birth further north. It lasted two days."
At that news, Charles felt faint. His mouth went dry. Two days! He cannot wrap his mind around it. The irony of all of this is his sweet, polished, proper, and lovable wife let flow a string of curse words that would make even her father blush. This was later in the night when she had grown even more miserable. He was sitting on the bed beside her, and she grabbed his hand. Where this incredible strength came from, since she's such a tiny thing, he does not know. But his hand hurt, badly.
That is when the curse words spewed from her mouth. She inclined her head to him and said "Of course, these are your children. They are stubborn like you and refuse to come out of their comfortable home." Then she grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to her and told him to "Speak to them! You are their father. Make them obey you and come out!" It was then he thought she had gone round the bend too. Well, he did until she made it clear "If you do not do this now, then we will never have another one ever again so help me."
She cannot be serious and he raised an eyebrow in challenge. "I mean it, Charles!" So he placed his face close to her bump and began speaking to the babes. He told them to come out because if they don't "I will be very upset indeed, because your mother has threatened to withhold her beautiful body from me." His wife scoffed, but a miracle happened. They listened to him for when Doctor Pearce checked a few minutes later she was ready to give birth.
He wore a proud grin. "You don't have to look so smug," she declared. Mrs. Nevitt sent him out of the room. He found himself in the upstairs parlor along with Lady Dot, Lady Enid, and his friend William (who had returned the week prior). He did not hear screaming as he did from the Queen's chamber several weeks ago. Perhaps it was due to a calming type of anesthesia Doctor Pearce had given her.
Unsure of knowing whether to be worried or not, he began to pace the length of the room. Time seemed to drag by so slowly. He did not even recognize Mrs. Nevitt placing a baby in his arms mid-stride. He glanced down at the tiny bundle and a lump formed in his throat. Mrs. Nevitt let him know "Congratulations Your Lordship. You have a handsome boy there."
Her words did not register until the babe in his arms turned towards him and gave a little coo. Oh, God! He's a father to this small, delicate creature. As he gazed upon his son his heart grew. He loves his wife. There is no question about that. He loves her beyond words. She is in his heart and every fiber of his being, but this baby... Their baby makes him feel things he's never felt before. Nothing could have prepared him for how much love he would have for his own child.
There's just something about it that's life-changing. This is his purpose, to love and protect his family which now includes this tiny bundle. This is profound and incredible. The only thing that could make this any better is sharing it with his wife. He made this perfect being with her. Then he remembered, there's another baby needing to be born.
And literally, no sooner did he remember that than Edmund came into the room and announced "Her Ladyship is in want of you." Lady Dot came and took the tiny babe from him and William pushed him towards the door. He's really uncertain how he came to be sitting behind his wife, as she labored with their second child. Everything is a blur of emotion.
But she told him, "I cannot do this a second time without you. I'm really tired."
He vaguely remembers asking if this is proper. To which Doctor Pearce let him know it's not usually the done thing, but many men have shared this with their wives before. So he mustered up his own courage and held her as she worked to bring their second child into the world. She pushed and pushed and pushed until she collapsed into his arms and cried with a pitiful voice "I can't. I can't do it. I'm so tired."
Stroking her sweat-stained hair, he placed a kiss on the top of it. "My estrella. My Sweetheart. My Darling, you can. You are the strongest woman I know. You survived for years alone and preserved. You can do this Mary. You have to for the babe. I'm here with you."
Gripping his hands, she found the strength to push another time. It was then Doctor Pearce told her "Once more Mary and the babe will be out." Breathing deeply she pushed a final time and a loud wail echoed in the room.
Mrs. Nevitt took the new babe and cleaned it up before placing the newest Brandon in the Duke's arms. Knowing now what it takes to bring a babe into the world, tears filled his eyes. Looking at this baby, he placed a kiss on the head. Mrs. Nevitt once again told him "You have another fine son." He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of his second son.
Edmund made him exit the room while they cleaned up his wife, or rather Mrs. Nevitt would do the cleaning. When he left the room and returned to the parlor, Lady Enid gave him his other son. In both, his arms lie two tiny humans- the hopes and dreams of the future.
Today he went from being a husband to a father. He has two sons, two hearts, and two minds to protect. Now there are two more people to love. Kissing both their heads, he smiled. He's not going to make them great men one day, he's going to start now by making them, great boys.
After Mary was tended to, Mrs. Nevitt fetched Charles. He entered the room with their babes. Though weak, she beamed a brilliant smile at him. He handed her one. Although it's a challenge to tell them apart at the moment, he does know the one in his left arm is the firstborn. They lay there holding the twins when he realized something. "They need names," he mentioned.
With a small laugh, his wife nuzzled the baby in her arms. "I have some thoughts on that if you want." She kissed their son's cheek, which nuzzled into her. Charles asked her to go on, as he's all out of good thought at the moment. "Well, I thought we could name the first baby after your father. William. William Charles Brandon."
Tears came to his eyes. "I think my father would have loved that. Thank you, My Love." He kissed her own cheek. "Since we named this little guy after my father, are we naming the one you're holding after yours?"
She snorted an unladylike snort. "Good grief, no. But we are naming him after my great, great grandfather Owen Tudor. So with your permission, I'd like us to name him Owen Henry Brandon."
He kissed her forehead and specified "You have my full permission." Then he bent down and kissed both his children's heads, again. "Welcome to the world, William and Owen." Before he let his wife drift to sleep, he proclaimed "Each day I love you more and more. Thank you for making me a father." She passed Owen to him. As he lay there holding both his babies, watching the love of his life sleep, he thought of something.
His life was fine before the three of them, but it was lacking. It was empty. Now it's full. It has a purpose and it has someone who makes him feel special. All the things that brought him to this point, time, and pain— none of it matters anymore. Because this is what matters. They matter. What he does matters and how he chooses to do it matters more now than ever before. He has three people counting on him, loving him.
Maybe he'll make mistakes. But it's OK because maybe he'll get more than he ever could have imagined, in the process. He already did. He's holding two of them and the other is asleep at his side. Who knows where life will take them. The road is long and it's the journey that counts. It's the destination. And wherever he's headed, he's not alone anymore.