Marriage, in many ways, is like money. Money is made of paper, similar to a marriage certificate. But it takes hard work to obtain it. The same is true for marriage and a good relationship. It isn't something a person finds or steps into blindly. It's about building a foundation together. A foundation that has to be continually built upon for success. And that requires hard work for forgiveness, spending time together, growing together, opening up to each other, overlooking annoying habits, and loving each other.
Mary knows her father's upcoming marriage to the child will fail for all these reasons and more. She's been trying not to let it bother her, but without much success. During the packing, she felt the irritation rise in her. And now, in the carriage, she's restless. Tossing her book aside, the Princess shook her head.
Charles noticed his wife's agitated state. Placing his folder on the other seat, he angled himself to get a better look at her. Her face is drawn, her jaw is tight, and her shoulders are tense. "What's bothering you, Sweetheart?" As if he didn't know.
Her attention turned to him. "This marriage will be a sham. It's a mockery of marriage. I cannot get over the age difference, likewise the fact that the girl is the Duke of Norfolk's pawn. That man is greedy for gain and is always up to no good. I don't understand why my father cannot see that!"
The Duke of Norfolk is a constant thorn in the Prince's side. The man always has been. He thought Howard learned his lesson with Anne Boleyn, but Charles was wrong. "I know you are unhappy with this union, but it's not your decision. It's your father's choice, and he has chosen this girl. I don't know what's so special about Howard women that cause your father to forget himself and act stupidly. Maybe they crap gold on the toilet. I don't know."
Those words earned him a swat to the arm and his wife saying, "Don't be uncouth." It also got a chuckle out of her.
He went on to say, "Even if they do crap gold, it's not your choice to decide who your father marries. I know you worry about how this will look to the foreign courts and the impact on the kingdom. But, Mary, that too is out of your control. I will say this only once, and I will say it with love."
His words got her attention. What could he possibly say that he hasn't before? She sat eager to hear.
Taking his wife's hand into his, he raised it and placed a sweet kiss on the top. His thumb rubbed over it as he spoke. "You cannot control everything. Sometimes you need to let go and relax. Have faith that things will work out as they should. Stop overthinking and just breathe."
She huffed out a breath. Of all the things Charles could have said, he chose to say that. "But I don't want him to get hurt. I don't want the kingdom to get hurt-"
Her husband interrupted her. "I know, but again you can't control it. You cannot control the outcomes of your father's decisions and how they affect the kingdom. You are not God. You do not have that power. So, again let it go."
He gently tugged her into his side and spoke again. "Your father has to learn from his mistakes, same as everybody else does. Sometimes he thinks he's above making mistakes, but he isn't. I believe this marriage will be one of those times he will have to learn from."
Fiddling with a red rose on her sleeveless dress, she supposes her husband is correct. "Alright, Charles, I will try to let it go for the good of my mind and our marriage."
A smile came upon his handsome, scruffy face. "Good, then I think a distraction will help you in this." She pulled back and looked into his face. Questions were in her eyes. So His Highness declared, "Oh yes, Wife. You need to come out of your mind and your mood. As your husband, it is my duty to see that happen. Starting right now, I am going to divert your attention." Before she could respond, his lips did all the talking for them both. And they talked, and they talked, and they talked practically the whole way to Oatlands Palace in Surrey.
Oatlands is the lesser-known palace of the King. In fact, Mary hasn't been there in ages. This palace was used by her mother when she was traveling out west. Mary would join her here. Today though, Oatlands is part of her father's grand plan. Hampton Court is to be the King's principal residence. Nonsuch Palace is to be the residence of the Prince- it was to be his son's. But since he died, it's been passed to herself and Charles. Finally, the chief property of the Queen is to be Oatlands.
The King and Queen's apartments are on the main floor between the two central courtyards in this palace. Bay windows look from their rooms into the outer court. This leaves room for nosy courtiers to be able to peer into the Royal chambers. Ironically Mary remembers the Queen's chambers being more prominent than the King's.
The other thing she remembers is the prospect tower that stands over the palace on the west. It has the best views. She would constantly sneak away and go there, much to the dismay of her governess. The outlook has a broad spiral staircase that leads to the chamber in the sky. From there, a person can see all around the hunting grounds.
As the carriage pulled to a stop, the Prince exited and went to help his wife out. She held his hand as she disembarked. Since this should not be a long trip, no more than a week and a half at most, they left the children in Cardigan. A flood of memories hit the Princess when her feet touched the ground. There's a certain nostalgia that surrounds the palace here. It's almost like she can see her mother coming out to greet her and welcome her with open arms.
When Charles placed a hand on the small of her back, she shook the cobwebs from her mind. Together they walked into the palace and to their chambers. Their rooms here are not as grandiose as those in Hampton Court, Greenwich, or Whitehall, but they are sufficient.
Mary took off her shawl and draped it on the bed while Charles removed his doublet. He went to the decanter and poured a glass of wine. "Do you want any, or would you prefer something else?" he asked.
Touching the bed linens, she said, "A small glass is fine." He nodded and poured one for her before sitting in an armchair. When the Princess finished her inspections, she came to sit on his lap and sipped her wine. She opened up her thoughts to him. "This place has memories of my mother. She would frequent here a lot during the summer, and I would visit. It was happy. I was happy, especially going up into the watch tower."
With his arms around her, Charles expressed his own memories. "Hmm... The thing I remember most about Oatlands is the excellent hunting. The grounds are more significant for it here. Henry hasn't used Oatlands in a long time. I'm not sure why."
They stayed like that in each other's arms, sharing memories until the King summoned them for dinner. The pair changed and readied themselves to present to His Majesty. She wore a stunning embroidered seafoam green dress. The color is quite summery, and it offsets the color of her hair and the blue of her eyes.
Charles grew quite speechless as his eyes beheld her. His wife is a gorgeous woman, and it's true he's still as smitten with her as the day they wed, but sometimes she truly takes his breath away. Today is one of those times. And when she leaves her hair down, as it is currently, he tends to get a little flustered. Suddenly he's forgotten how to button his shirt and put on his doublet.
She saw him fiddling with his shirt. So her concentration turned to her husband and her husband alone. She stepped into his space and caught his eyes. They both shared private smiles. Her nimble fingers buttoned up his white shirt. Never once did her eyes leave his. Then as he tucked his shirt into his pants, she took his doublet and helped him into it. She did the buttons for him there also.
On the last button, he caught her hand. "Thank you," he said with a quiet voice. It almost sounded shy.
She told him, "You're welcome," in an equally quiet voice.
He finished dressing while Joan set a double pear headband in Mary's hair. When they were both ready, Charles insisted she bring a shawl along. Joan handed her a fine citron-colored one. Hand-in-hand they walked to the King's quarters.
Once they arrived, the ushers led them into an ornately decorated dining room with His Majesty at the head of the long table. It became apparent this was not a family dinner, as his soon-to-be-wife and her Howard family were present.
Charles felt his wife tense at his side. He knew she felt uncomfortable around the Duke of Norfolk, and for a good reason. The man hated her, probably still does, and schemed to have his other niece on the throne as Queen. The man continues to do so with his latest niece. So the Prince put on a pleasant face and started to make nice with Mary on his arm.
Small talk ensued over glasses of wine and ale or the fruity water that the Princess is fond of. The men discussed hunting and sport- safe topics for the most part. The women did not speak much. However, the Duke's wife did see fit to compliment Her Highness on her colorful, vivacious wardrobe. Yes, her dresses are both those things and pretty, unlike the bland gowns most of the women at the Royal Court wear.
Before Mary had to acknowledge the child, she thanked the Lord because the servants brought out dinner. The dinner consisted of ribs with pickled melon, oven-roasted pork, lamb chops, and juicy steak. The footmen also served a variety of summer salads and fruits. Everything is terribly rich and delicious. No one left hungry.
After dinner, the child's maids came to escort her to her chambers to "prepare" for the wedding. Before she left, she asked, "Princess might I have a word with you woman to woman. Since you're married, I do hope you might give me some advice." She wore a sickly sweet face.
It made Mary want to hurl her dinner into the nearest waste bin. She, too, wore a false face and led the child into the room's antechamber. When they were alone, only surrounded by her guards and the girl's maids, both their masks gave way.
Catherine said, "Stepdaughter, I want to be clear with you. If you continue to disrespect me, I will strip you of your two best ladies. In the future, you will not address me as a child but as Queen. I will be your father's wife whether you like it or not. So get used to me being around and doing the things you used to do, like christening boats. And if you disdain me further, I will also have you banished from Court. Are we understood?"
Usually, Mary is not one to engage in Court politics. However, this up-jumped tart decided to put her big girl skirt on and act like her dead cousin The Whore. If the child even dares to take away her two best girlfriends, she will lose her mind. So the Princess told her, "Thank you, Stepmommy, I do so cherish your advice. I don't know how I have lived all these years without it. You have a wealth of knowledge from your numerous years of life experience that I cannot wait to learn from." She could see the child's maids snickering behind their hands, though loathe to do it in the open.
But then Mary left no doubt about her intentions through a subtle warning. "I especially want to learn your wisdom from when you were in Dowager Duchess's household. I feel sure there are many womanly tricks you could teach me."
Recognition dawned on the child's stupid face. She pushed her blonde hair over her shoulder and stood up to her full height (which isn't very tall). "I can teach you many things, Stepdaughter. Do not test me." Then she swished around and stalked out of the room with her maids following.
The Princess let go of the breath she didn't know she had been holding in. Then she, too, turned and reentered her father's private quarters. The men continued to talk for a while until the party dispersed. She was surprised her father didn't want her and Charles to stay longer. But he claimed, "I need to be fresh for tomorrow. It's not every day a man gets married, you know."
Oh, the sheer ridiculousness of that statement. Of all the things Henry could have said, he chose to say that one. It was all the Prince and Princess could do to keep from laughing, as this was his fifth marriage.
Charles took his wife's shawl and placed it about her shoulders. Then they left the King's chambers. He took Mary's hand and pulled her in a different direction on the way out. It's totally different from the way they came in. But as they walked along, she knew where they were going.
They stopped at the watchtower steps, and the Prince looked deep in thought. So Her Highness took his hand and led him up and up and up to the very top of the tower. She has come to expect big romantic gestures from her husband, so her smile fell a bit when nothing big or romantic could be seen.
But she was wrong because when she turned around to look at Charles, he had a rose in his hands- a perfect Tudor rose. He presented it to her with a kiss on both hands. She brought it up to her nose and inhaled the lovely fragrance.
He smiled at her and led her around to the left side of the tower. "In the carriage, you told me you enjoyed coming up here. Tell me a story, Mary."
She stopped walking and spun on her heels. Leaning back against the glass, she spoke. A certain happiness came over her face. "Well, when I was about seven, I was in my mother's chambers. It was her, my governess, her dearest lady in wait, Baroness Willoughby, and myself. They were sewing blankets for the poor. My governess, Margaret Pole, had been trying to teach me embroidery."
She stopped and laughed at the idea, which made Charles chuckle. "Of course, you know how well my embroidery skills are. I mean, can you imagine me sitting there with my mother, who is by far the best embroiderer in the country? Then not to mention the other two ladies who also are good at it?"
Charles held his wife's hand and wanted to know, "So what happened with the blankets?"
She bit her lip, ashamed to tell the rest of the story. But she did regardless. "Lady Margaret handed me the embroidery hoop. I sat by my mother and looked at the embroidery she was stitching on the blanket. I sat there and tried and tried to embroider, but I couldn't. I got frustrated with it, and my Tudor temper got the best of me. I threw the hoop across the room and ran out. I ran all the way to here where I stood and looked out that window onto the grounds."
She moved to stand in the exact position she did that day. Staring out the window into the starry night, she finished the tale. "I may have sniffled a bit, which I know is also shocking to you. But then I became surrounded by gentle arms and my mother's gardenia fragrance."
A lump formed in her throat, and tears welled in her eyes. With a shaky voice, she spoke. "I don't think I'll ever forget what she told me that day. She said Mary, not every lady has the gift of embroidery. You have a lot of incredible talents all your own. The man who marries you will not marry you for your embroidery but for your heart. And I suppose she was right."
Charles turned her around to him and wiped a few tears that had fallen from her face. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "I think it's safe to say she was right. If I had married you for your embroidery, I would have left you in the carriage when you showed me that grotesque grouse." The two of them laughed.
Then he conveyed to her something he's wanted to say to her for a while now. "You should do that more often. Talk about your mother."
She placed her hand on his face and let her thumb caress his jaw. "I agree, and I think the children would like to hear about her. It's been difficult to think of her, but it's becoming easier as the years drag on."
He twisted his head in her hands and kissed her palm. She pulled his face down and kissed his lips. Breaking away before the kiss could get out of control, as their kisses are want to do, Mary declared, "This is just another memory for me to cherish of this tower. It's another reason I have to like this place. Thank you for a sweet distraction."
His head bowed to her slightly as he said, "You're welcome, My Darling."
Her fingers clutched the Tudor rose, and he clasped her hand. They left the tower and went to their apartments, where Mary was reminded of how handsome her husband is. Her breath quickened when he embraced her. His fingers fiddled with the lace strap of her nightdress, but she took his hand and led him to the bed. They got in, and she handed him his book, which he tossed onto his side table. Ignoring him, she picked up her own book and began reading.
"Are you really going to read? I'm interested in other things," he mentioned.
She peered over the book's spine and willed her heart to calm. "Yes. I'll read it to you. It'll help settle you."
He sat up and leaned his head on the headboard. His arms crossed in frustration as she began to read. "Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part; Nay, I have done, you get no more of me. And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart. That thus so cleanly I myself can free."
A breath huffed out of his mouth. "Oh, God. You're back to reading that rubbish poetry again. I thought that maybe you would at least read to me about King Arthur's knights," he teased.
Then she perked up. "I'm so glad you want to hear about them. I'm reading the story of Sir Lamorak and the Grouchy Giant. Have you heard that one? I'll read it to you after we finish the poem Idea 61 by Michael Drayton."
He slumped back down into the bed and took his pillow to cover his ears. But that did not deter his wife, for she kept reading until he fell asleep curled up at her side with his arm draped over her.
At sunrise, the couple talked about the day over a breakfast of fruit, ham, fresh bread, and cheese. Mary noted her husband's hair. "You had your valet trim your hair?" To her eyes, it looks shorter and less shaggy.
Charles put another piece of ham on his plate. "I was up before you, riding with Henry. When I returned, I thought to make myself a little more presentable than I've been showing recently. If you dislike it, I'll grow it back out." A forkful of fruit went into his mouth.
Studying his appearance, she stated, "No. I like it. It's not as long as it was, but it's not too short either. I think it's a good length. You're easily the most handsome man in the kingdom with short or long hair." He rose his goblet in thanks.
After breakfast, the affectionate couple began to dress for the wedding and day's festivities. Charles's valet dressed him in the outfit Mary had picked out that started with black leather pants (which he hates because it's summer). Over his white cotton tunic went the black, gold, and maroon brocade printed doublet. Topping that off is a maroon-embroidered overcoat. He's going to be sweating before the wedding is over. He just knows it.
She is wearing yet another sleeveless floral embellished gown. It's one of the prettiest she owns. It fits at the waist, and the full skirt flows out. The various shades of pink and yellow flowers adorning the dress make her happy. Joan set a diamond tiara in her hair gathered into an updo today. Stacks of diamond bracelets trim her right arm, as do the diamond earrings in her ears.
Resting his hands on Mary's shoulders as she held the fragrance atomizer, Charles proclaimed, "You're beautiful." He placed a tender kiss on her neck. She turned around to have a look at him. Her hand brushed imaginary lint off his coat.
Before ten o'clock, the couple left their apartments and headed for the chapel. The Royal guards were stationed at the entrance and let them pass. The King, the bride's family, and select supportive nobility were already in the chapel. The Prince and Princess of Wales took their place in the front row.
When the new bride entered, the private ceremony began. It's hard to upstage the bride of a King, but Mary seems to do that a lot with the Duke of Norfolk's nieces. Her floral creation bested the child's silk one. It did not win her any points with her new stepmother, but all is well in love and war, as they say.
The short ceremony was followed by loading the carriages to ride to Hampton Court Palace. It's there the King will present his new wife to the Court, and a day of festivity will commence. While the Prince and Princess rode in the carriage, Charles complained. "My legs are sweating in these pants. I am hot and uncomfortable."
Mary took a piece of parchment and began to fan him. "But you look so handsome in them, My Love." She snickered lightly at his dramatic discomfort. His reply was a cross expression.
At Hampton Court, the whole nobility was there to welcome the arrival of the newly married King. Yet again, Mary's dress upstaged her stepmother. As her eyes took in the Royal Court, Her Highness felt a bit of dread settle in her stomach. The Howard family is back and making a good show for the day. She knew this would happen since her father determined to marry the child. She knew the Duke of Norfolk and his ilk would be on the move. The less she and Charles spend at court, the better.
But then would it be better because, in their absence, the Howard's will worm their way into things they ought not to be. They'll have to walk a fine line, and she will have to be cautious. Memories of falling down the flight of stairs entered her mind.
She and Charles sat on the King's left side, at the head of the feast. During mid-meal, Charles rose to give a brief speech. "To His Majesty and his new bride, we are all gathered here to honor you today. We all wish you a happy and healthy, long-lasting marriage. May your days be merry, your vats overflowing, and your health enduring." The Court cheered, and Charles took a sip of his wine.
Suddenly, the Prince fell down and started convulsing in seizures. Screams went out around the room. Henry jumped to his feet and began ordering people back and summoning the guards and the physician. Mary raced to her husband with tears in her eyes. Henry joined her and laid Charles on his side. Once the seizing stopped, the Prince was rushed to his apartments, where the physician went straight to work.