Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my OCs. All rights go to Showtime, the creator of The Tudors.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Hello to my new favs/followers: Mari Wollsch, odettecabera15, RedHotChillySteppers2008, jenni10121, shadowrosalie5, EspressoPatronum13, FandomQueenLaura, and autumnfall1989.

Ch. 8

"Saying is one thing, doing another."

~Michel de Montaigne

"Strong reasons make strong actions."

~William Shakespeare

Pontefract Castle 30 October 1536

While Ellerker and Constable were escorted to Windsor by Suffolk, Grace remained behind at Pontefract, Mr. Aske allowing More and Warwick to accompany her back to the rebel occupied castle. Darcy welcomed the men, but Aske was still wary. As courtiers and the men seemingly closest to the king, he needed to be careful. So as Aske dwelled over the meeting of the delegates with the king, Grace was speaking with her father and uncle in her temporary private chambers. "Why are you doing this, Grace? Do you seek some type of vengeance against the king?" Warwick questioned, his thoughts going a mile a minute as he considered the reasoning behind his daughter's erratic behavior. He didn't understand why she went against Percy, why she left her husband and traveled with these rebels in protest of Cromwell.

"Of course not," Grace retorted, scowling at her father. She turned to More, sending him a pleading look. "Uncle, you of all people must know why I do this. My conscience cannot deal with it. These people are pilgrims asking for the return of their holy days, for the church this country had known for so long. How is it wrong of them to be loyal to the king and to their religion?"

More knew exactly how Grace was feeling. She wanted to make stand for what she believed in, but it was too dangerous. He had almost lost his head if not for Grace and now, he would save her from herself. "Grace, I was lucky. My conscience and myself alone are nothing compared to this rebellion. I am one person. There are thousands of people who stand against the king."

Grace shook her head fervently, disagreeing with More. "They do not stand against the king. They stand against Cromwell and his radicalism."

Warwick stepped in, having personally experienced what it was like to constantly have your life being watched. "Even if that is true, you think the king will be merciful to them? He will not carry out his promises as he has much at stake. He is too much like his father to risk another rebellion happening." He had seen his cousin executed because of his proximity to the crown. If not for his loyalty to Henry VII, he could have lost his life, but instead he was gifted the dukedom of Warwick.

"What do you mean?" Grace questioned.

"King Henry VII had many rebellions during his reign. There was one soon after he took the throne, the Stafford and Lovell Rebellion which sought to restore the Yorkists to the throne. And then the Lambert Simnel and Perkin Warbeck Rebellions happened, each trying to put a pretender on the throne but a Yorkist pretender, nevertheless. He had the queen's cousin executed because he was too close to the throne. So now, you must understand this threat to his majesty. He is the second of his dynasty and any rebellion during his reign cannot be taken lightly. It could cost him dearly in the end," Warwick explained. The king was in a precarious position. If something happened to him, his dynasty would end.

"And it could cost him gravely if he loses the love of his people." Grace still persisted in her rant against her father and uncle, both men agitated by her stubbornness.

"Then what do you suggest we do? Ride to Windsor? You think the king will speak to you after your display? He will take one look at you and exile you from court," Warwick grit back at her.

"I'm not going back to court…There are already sending delegates. Why would I go anyways? I don't want to see him," Grace responded, exasperated her father would suggest such a thing.

"You think he won't summon you after your actions? He'll ask you to court like I'm sure he will with Robert Aske." It would be a strategy on the king's part, inviting Aske to court. The man could have been his greatest enemy at the moment if he desired to.

"Court at Christmastide? How boring," Grace replied sarcastically.

"It's not a joke Grace. You are married to the Earl of Northumberland and he is required to pledge his loyalty to the king. Christmastide is a perfect example of that," More spoke, inserting himself into the conversation once more. He needed to emphasize her position, show her how vulnerable she truly was.

"And let's not forget that Elizabeth is in Richard's care. Anne will not be allowed back at court, especially with news of her pregnancy. It would make Henry a laughing stock to have her at court. But you won't be excluded now. You've made it impossible for yourself, Grace. With your participation in this rebellion and your marriage to Percy, I'm afraid you've made quite the mess for yourself," Warwick added, frowning as his daughter lifted her chin up at him like it was a challenge.

"I've made no mess, father. I'm quite sure of that," Grace replied, quite confident in herself. Her confidence could be mistaken for cockiness by some. "Now, if you'll excuse me I no longer wish to speak to you on this matter." Grace turned on her heel swiftly, departing the room with an air of superiority that made Warwick shake his head. He went to halt her, but More intervened, cutting off his brother-in-law with a sharp glint of his dark eyes.

"Let her go, Richard. She's too headstrong for her own good. Once Anne returns from France, I'm sure she'll be persuaded otherwise," More insisted. He could only hope Anne could convince Grace to get off her high-horse and start thinking about being a wife, not a warrior set on a path of destruction that could cost her dearly in the end.

Windsor Castle 2 November 1536

The Pilgrims' delegates had arrived at Windsor, the courtiers sending Ralph Ellerker and Jphn Constable looks of distaste as the king surely would. They were announced by the herald as they walked into a grand chamber decorated for this event. The hall was filled with various tapestries, the king's throne lifted onto a dais with gold banners and his heraldry displayed for all to see. The courtiers were all dressed in their finest, the delegates gulping nervously as the crowd parted to give the men a path straight to the king. They knelt on their knees obediently, holding their heads down as they waited for the king to speak.

Henry sat regally on his throne, his blue eyes like ice as he stared at these men who called themselves pilgrims. He wore an outfit of rich brown, a fur around his shoulders and a gold chain completing the ensemble. His face did not betray his emotions as a king was expected while Cromwell did little to hide his disdain for these men. John Constable glared right back at the Lord Privy Seal, his hatred for the king's man evident. Suffolk stood next to Cromwell while Sir Francis Brandon stood in front of the other side of the dais, the king's new favorite it seemed.

It was silent for what seemed an endless amount of time as the king remained quiet, building the suspense as the pilgrims patiently waited. Jane and her ladies watched from a balcony in the hall, Jane praying her husband would be lenient to these men as he had been to her. You did not know you were with child yet. There will be more children with God's blessing, but you must be careful. You cannot exert yourself. Whatever you did upset your being. You must be careful. The words echoed in her ears. The king had been gentle, but firm with her. She would have one more chance, no more than that. He had given her a warning and she would abide by that warning.

Finally, the king spoke as he leaned slightly forward on his golden throne. "Gentlemen, I ask you this, what king has kept his subjects so long in wealth and peace? So ministered justice equally to high and low, and protected you from all outward enemies?" He fiddled with the ring on his pinky, seemingly calm, but also trying to contain his anger at these men as he voice remained steady, but dominant.

"I've read your submission." Henry stood abruptly from his chair, his hand held over his elaborately decorated dagger as he walked down the dais towards them. Ellerker kept his eyes lowered while Constable was braver, his eyes meeting the king's. "Your first pretense is that you seek to maintain the faith. Well, I'll tell you now, gentlemen, that nothing is more contrary to God's commandments than rebellion. Rising like madmen against your prince, leaving lands untilled and corn unsown is not the behavior of the proper commonwealth you claim to be." He pointed his finger accusingly at the men, rage rising to the surface and betraying his true feelings.

"Your Majesty, I feel compelled to…" Constable spoke, trying to explain himself to the king. However, Cromwell interrupted him.

"Hush! You are before the king's majesty," Cromwell exclaimed, whispers breaking out among the court at such an outburst.

Henry continued as if nothing had happened, going on in his rant. "You make false claims about our intentions towards the church. We have done nothing but what the clergy in York and Canterbury agreed was in accordance with God's holy word. God's holy word, gentlemen." Ellerker and Constable remained silent, Constable holding his tongue so as not to mutter another word. "So how can the simple people say the contrary? What presumption and madness is it of them to claim knowledge of God's law when they are ignorant and less knowledgeable and should rather know their duty?" Sounds of agreeance rang out in the hall, many courtiers championing their king's reason. Constable turned to Ellerker, the men exchanging a look of desperation as the king returned to his throne. They realized the king was so poisoned by Cromwell that he could not be merciful if they continued their mission.

"You have seen before in Lincolnshire and elsewhere how temperate and forgiving is our inclination. Though rebellion is against God's will, I declare my intentions through the pity and compassion of our princely heart to pardon all of you who have transgressed on condition that you now lay down your arms." Jane grasped her cross necklace in thanks, grateful for the king's forgiveness to these pilgrims. "His Grace, the Duke of Suffolk will come north again to Yorkshire to moderate with you and make peace and see you disbanded." It appeared the conversation, though one-sided, was coming to an end and Constable would not leave without speaking. He sent Ellerker an apologetic look, turning his head back to the king with a pleading look.

"Majesty, please forgive me for my outspokenness, but I must say one thing before we are sent away. Look to your conscience majesty, for is it not one's conscience that determines their actions. Is it not one's conscience such as yours that gives us the strength to speak for ourselves regardless of the consequences if we believe the most important to be in danger? If we believe our conscience to be defense enough? Should someone go against their conscience for fear of death?" Gasps were drawn from the courtiers once more, Constable insulting the king a second time.

Henry's eyes immediately narrowed at Constable's words, his throat running dry and his hands clenching at the statement. He remembered those words distinctly spoken by someone else. "His conscience," Grace muttered without even realizing it. The king's eyes fell on her abruptly as did everyone else's. He noted her nervousness, the way se bit her lip to calm herself. "And what do you know of his conscience, Lady Neville?" the king questioned as he stepped toward Grace. Grace gulped inaudibly, nervous at being so close to such a dangerous and powerful man who was currently enraged. "I…I…" she stuttered for just a moment, but she regained her confidence much to Henry's surprise and satisfaction. "I know he's ruled by it. I know his conscience dictates his actions and are influenced by our lord. But your majesty, you must understand that my uncle is loyal to you above all else. I would say that he loves your majesty more than God, but that is a sin for our savior should come first in our hearts."

For a moment, Henry forgot his anger as he focused on the memory. His facial features softened as the thought of Grace before hardening again at how she had purposely told Constable to speak about consciences. That was a memory she now ruined by asking Constable to remind him of his treatment towards More and his forgiveness of his actions. Who was he to tell him that a man could not be judged for his conscience? That a king should keep his promises as he had for More. "That will be all gentlemen," he said through grit teeth. "Good day to you both." At the darkened face of the king, the men bowed quickly and backed away from the king. They dare not turn their backs on him, respectfully inching out of the chamber as the king once again returned to thoughts of the past.

"Thank God and Your Majesty for your great mercy today. I think you are the kindest of rulers, and I wish with all my heart the world knew it." After the grand display in the great hall, Henry and Jane had removed themselves to have a private dinner in the queen's rooms. She was praising the king for his efforts, trying to appease him best she could with her recent miscarriage. She had no idea when he would return to their marriage bed, Jane having lost the child 10 days before. She wasn't even sure when her marital duties could be performed again, but it wasn't like the king was storming her rooms to bed her.

"The world chooses what it wants to know, Jane," Henry replied. There was something off about his behavior, but Jane dismissed it as stress with the rebellion.

"But you can change its mind. I beg you to restore and keep the abbeys," Jane pressed, her ladies widening their eyes at such a request. They had seen what had happened before when she asked that Lady Mary be present at court and they knew the consequences.

"Jane…" The king took a deep sigh, running his hand through his hair in an exasperated manner. He didn't want to discuss the situation with the abbeys. He had enough on his plate with the rebellion and know Grace's words were creeping into his mind once more.

"Think what the world would think. You listen to your people and your heart," Jane continued, a soft smile on her face as she tried to speak freely to her husband. Henry was not only reminded of Anne's behavior. Anne had pushed for the betrothal of Elizabeth to the Duke of Angouleme and also hoped the abbeys would be used for more useful purposes rather than be destroyed. But with Jane, it was different. She didn't have the same intellect as Anne. She sympathized with the North, that much was evident. His wife did not understand the place he was in at the moment, and he did not want to be lectured by another wife, not with the mood he was in.

"Jane, I told you once before, don't meddle in my affairs," Henry said tersely, making Jane's smile disappear. "Do you remember what happened to the late queen?" he questioned.

"Yes." Jane remembered how she had been spared at the last minute, how she had been saved from execution by an act of God. She also remembered the queen's temper, how she acted when she saw the king's locket around her neck, how she treated her less than a servant whenever she around.

Henry reached across the table, Jane letting out a breath of relief at his gentle touch. "I love you more than her. More even than Catherine. Don't spoil it." His hand tightened at the last sentence, Jane nodding at her husband's words. She knew she should have stayed silent, that she should have kept her mouth shut and plastered an obedient look on her face. But she didn't, instead choosing a different path that would anger the king far more.

"Do you…Do you love me more than her?" Jane spoke meekly, her eyes glued to the dining table while she stroked her husband's hand. Henry pulled away immediately, his eyes hardening at her question.

"Who?" Henry asked, already knowing the answer. He sat back in his chair waiting to pounce on his poor wife like a lion, but Jane was like an innocent gazelle. She didn't know any better.

"Grace Neville," Jane responded. Her pale blue eyes searched Henry's dark ones desperately, as if his reply would determine her fate in this marriage. She just wanted his approval, wanted to be seen by him as the most humble and obedient of his wives. And for a second, it appeared the king was going to yell at his wife, but he faltered. He wouldn't give her the answer she dreaded, but the one she wanted. He pitied her, felt the guilt of his treatment towards his wife trying to crawl out of him like the cowardly animal he was.

"I don't love Grace Neville, so I suggest you remove that notion from your head and focus on your duties as queen, Jane. She was the late queen's lady, no more, and if you continue to let your brother or your ladies fill your head with such nonsense, then you are not acting as a queen should." That was answer enough for Jane, her cheery disposition returning while Henry remained stoic and unreadable as usual. He need release, he needed to get away from Jane before he lost all control, and he knew exactly where to find it: Anne Bassett.

Pontefract Castle 21st November 1536

John Constable and Ralph Ellerker had just returned from the delegation at Windsor, Grace descending the stairs as quickly as her pregnant belly would allow her as she heard that the king had offered a general pardon. She was much surprised by the outcome and as she stepped out into the hall to see John Constable with an apparent frown on his features. He disagreed with Ellerker who was explaining the meeting with an air of gladness. The men all cheered at his words, especially as Ellerker handed the seal of the king with a letter to Sir Robert Aske. But as Grace came to stand next to Aske, the leader of the rebellion finally spoke what Grace was thinking. "You've not said anything, John. Is it because you do not agree with Sir Ralph?"

"How can he, Mr. Aske?" Grace said. "Cromwell is attached to the king's side like a leech." Constable's behavior had confirmed her suspicions. He too ignored the king's promises and would continue to do so as long as Cromwell remained in power.

"No, I cannot agree with him as the Lady Grace has spoken. How should I agree, how should any of us agree, when I think that devil, Cromwell, has such a hold over the king that I account these promises to be utterly worthless?" Constable questioned.

"Did you say to the king what I suggested?" Grace asked, all eyes turning to her in curiosity.

"Yes, I did, and it seemed it affected him a great deal, Lady Grace," Constable replied. "He…He took the words personally I think. He was silent after I said what you asked Lady Grace and he appeared to be dwelling over the words."

"Lady Grace may have helped the situation, but you still don't think we should meet them?" Aske questioned.

"No, I don't," John replied. "I think we should expose their lies. Call a general muster, take over the entire North and only then condescend to a meeting." Grace nodded her head in agreeance, knowing only force would show Cromwell and the king would listen to their plight.

"Force is the only way to get their attention. We must gather as many forces as we can, take control of the North, and then march further South. It will threaten Cromwell to halt his heresy and make the king listen," Grace added.

"You will do no such thing, Grace." A deep, male voice reverberated throughout the hall, Grace tensing at the recognizable sound. She turned, facing her husband who she had left at Wressle Castle to join the rebellion. He looked tired, but not because of his health, but because of riding to reach her. The couple was silent, neither wanting to address the other in front of an audience. Her father or uncle must have written to him, the men standing beside Percy with looks of authority plastered on their faces. Percy was their solution to her behavior. He would take her back to Wressle, bound and screaming if he had to. He would not lose her because of the rebellion.

"And why not? Can I not join them because I believe in their cause? Because Cromwell has abused his power and manipulated the king into forcing them to abandon their faith? Where is the justice in that if I abandon them?" Grace questioned. She would not lay down and be the subservient wife. She held her head high and her eyes were fierce as she spoke against Percy who remained where he was, his lips in a thin line as he eyed his wife with anger.

"Gentlemen, I would like you to have Wressle Castle at your disposal. I will not threaten your Pilgrimage but wish for my wife and I to retire to our home in Gloucester. Surely you understand that my wife should not over exert herself with her pregnancy. Duchess or not, I will not have her life or my child's be threatened while she tries to aid you," Percy announced, Aske completely shocked at the offer as was Grace. Her annoyance soon turned to admiration for her husband at his selfless offer. Though not directly involved, he was giving the rebels a base for the continuance of the Pilgrimage. He was putting aside his pride for his wife, settling with her so that she would return to him. Her barrier was melting, her protective shell falling at the feet of her husband.

"I thank you for your kind offer Lord Percy and may I say, your help with our pilgrimage. Though I know you may not join us, I will graciously remember your generosity and good will towards us pilgrims," Aske spoke. "If you should like to speak to your husband, my lady, I will inform you of our conversation when you are done conversing in private."

"There will be no need Sir Robert. Just tell me if there shall be a meeting or not." Aske nodded at her words, a soft smile on his face as husband and wife reunited, Grace grabbing her husband's hand as she led him to her rooms. More and Warwick stayed behind, giving the couple space and to hear of what Constable's opinion was regarding Cromwell.

The door to Grace's chamber opened and closed quickly as the couple wished for complete privacy as they discussed their issues. Grace edged her way into the room while Percy remained by the door, leaning against it as he eyed his wife. It wasn't awkward between them now, but silent as they each waited for the other one to talk first.

Grace bit her lip nervously as her forest hues connected with Percy's icy blue orbs, each trying to exert their control over the situation, but neither could win. Grace was the first to break, rushing into Percy's arms which were outstretched to embrace his wife. Hot tears streamed down Grace's face as she held onto him tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Henry," she muttered into his chest. Percy stroked her hair gently with one hand while the other rubbed her back in soothing circles.

"No, don't apologize sweetheart. You did nothing wrong." Percy moved his hands to cup Grace's face in his calloused hands, his thumb pads running over the soft skin to remove the tears. "I know how much this Pilgrimage means to you, how much it means to your family. Forgive me for I thought you were acting on account of other circumstances, but now I realize I was wrong."

"But you're wrong. I had other reasons at first," Grace spoke shakily as she continued to cry. "I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to show Cromwell that he could not just eradicate an entire religion overnight. I wanted to show him that I could still threaten him in some way. You must think I'm a silly fool for doing such a thing."

"Don't say such things. I think you're a strong woman for trying such a feat. Cromwell is most likely shaking in his boots. The rebels clamber to you for their support, for your advice," Percy said, admiring his wife for her strong will and courage.

"They aren't rebels. They're pilgrims. There's a difference my love," Grace responded, a small smile on Percy's face as she corrected him in her stubborn manner. She leaned into him, her face tilting up at him as he still had her face in his hands. Percy leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to hers in an almost apologizing manner as Grace grabbed his doublet tightly, her bump the only separation between them.

The couple was desperate for skin-on-skin contact, Percy abruptly turned Grace around in his arms. He started to unlace the corset on her dress, the material falling to her waist as he cupped her breasts from behind. Grace let out a deep moan, her head falling back on Percy's shoulder as he grinned into her hair. His hands drifted down to her pregnancy bump, Percy cradling her stomach with his hands. But Grace was too impatient.

Grace twisted around in Percy's arms once more, pulling him towards the bed. Percy was eager to please her, stripping himself of his doublet and shirt as he laid his wife down softly on the sheets. Their lips connected again, Percy pulling Grace's dress and undergarments off her body to reveal her naked self. He stared down at her, mesmerized by the sight of his pregnant wife. Her skin was flawless, a perfect shade of tan that made her look like a goddess. Her hair cascaded down her body beautifully, reaching the top of her belly. He stared at her with such love, his eyes lingering on her bump as he thought of their child growing in her womb.

Carefully, Percy drew himself over Grace's body, kissing every bare inch of her skin until he met her lips again. Grace's hands latched onto the back of his neck, desperate for friction as he untied his breeches and finally entered her. Both groaned with satisfaction, Grace bucking her hips needily as Percy thrust into her. He was steady, but delicate in his movements as he pleasured his wife, Grace reaching her high soon enough due to her raging hormones. Percy took his time, drawing himself deliberate slow in and out of Grace, listening to her delicious sounds as she squirmed continuously underneath him over and over again.

It was a healing moment for the two, their love-making an apology for the quarrel between them. The pilgrimage would no longer be causing a rift between them. Grace would return to Gloucester with Percy while the leaders of the rebellion would deal with Suffolk on their own. Grace would no longer be participating, but she would remain a symbol of hope for the rebels and a constant threat to Cromwell.

Chateau de Blois 25 November 1536

With her dark hair and captivating blue eyes, Anne was sure that Jacqueline de Longwy would captivate her brother's attention soon enough. She was young, barely 20, and held an intelligence that Anne was highly impressed with. George and Jacqueline had just been married at Chateau de Blois, both dressed in cloth of royal blue with silver trim and decorated in sapphire jewels to represent the royal house of Valois. After all, George was now married to the half-niece of Francois.

But George's marriage was not the only one to be celebrated. After much deliberation and with a heavy heart, Francois had accepted to the marriage of James of Scotland to his daughter, Madeline. He did not wish to depart with his daughter, but if she approved of the match he could not deter her from her happiness. The pair was to meet in January and his daughter's fate would be decided then. Meanwhile, his own marriage was being negotiated, his advisors suggested a German princess.

Amalia of Cleves, Anna of Baden-Durlach, Marie of Brandenburg-Kulmbach, and Margaret of Mecklenburg were all candidates, suitable brides to become Queen of France, but the perfect one had to be chosen based on political needs. Many of the German principalities were supporters of the Lutheran Church and though Francois was Catholic, an alliance was needed with these Protestants in opposition to the Emperor who had retreated back to Spain and perhaps to gain the friendship of the King of England whose policies were leaning towards Protestantism based on the guidance of Cromwell. Henry had also been victim to the Emperor's savagery as his soldiers took captive an English subject as well as stole livestock from English soil during their war against France, another reason for Henry to align himself with Francois.

Anne gracefully glided across the banquet hall, Elizabeth holding her mother's hand while the boys followed behind with their step-grandmother. Richard was to retrieve them at the beginning of December now that the rebellion was over, England finally safe from the rebels. However, Anne knew them to be peaceful men who were only asking for the return of their church and the restoration of the abbeys. She sympathized with them, unlike Cromwell who wanted to destroy all aspects of idolatry and superstition in England.

"George," Anne greeted her brother. "How do you like your new bride? She is much more appealing than Jane Parker I think and a sight to behold. You shall be happy with her, brother." George gave his sister a cheeky smile, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to it.

"And you my dear sister, with your swelling belly, are also a sight," George jested, Anne swatting playfully at her brother. His face turned serious as he gazed at his wife, Jacqueline giving her husband a small grin as she talked with her cousins across the room. She was quite pleased at marrying George, fascinated by the Englishman who had established himself in her uncle's court. "You may prove yourself to be right, Anne. I feel settled, as if my place is here in France and not in England. I know it may hurt you for me to say so, but my heart feels free here and I know I shall be happy with my new wife. Francois trusts me far more than Henry did. He values me, values my opinion, and I will serve him best I can against the Emperor."

Tears threatened to spill from the corner of Anne's eyes at her brother's declaration. She was gladdened by his words, knowing his near death experience would change him forever. He had escaped death's clutches, just as she had, and now he had been given a second chance at life, a chance to have a family of his own and prove himself. "Forgive me if I seem upset for I am not. I am elated with the fortunes you have found for yourself. I just wish you could come back with me." George embraced his sister fondly, holding her tightly as she laughed at his brotherly affections.

"Maybe someday Anne, but for now, I think I just need to focus on getting through my wedding night. The siblings chuckled, Anne at her brother's joking nature while George tried to liven his sister's spirits. They had been dampened by her thoughts of the past, but were now filled with hope for the future, hope for George's new life in France.

Gloucester Castle 30 November 1536

Grace and Percy had returned to Gloucester in the aftermath of the delegates return, Aske informing the couple that the rebel leaders would meet in Pontefract to create a list of demands to be presented to the king. Grace no longer would participate in the rebellion nor would she speak of her support as advised by her uncle and father. Even Aske had suggested that she should deny her involvement to prevent dire consequences. However, not long after their return, they received a surprise visit from Ambassador Chapuys. He was deeply concerned for Grace's wellbeing, also having heard that she had been a captive of the rebel army. But his main reason for the visit was to speak of his communication with Diego Hurtado de Mendoza.

"My lady, I am much relieved to see that you are well after your ordeal with the rebels," Chapuys expressed. "I must tell you, the Emperor supports these pilgrims and hopes the king will see reason in their uprising as they demand the return of the true faith to England. The Emperor knows them to be good Christians."

Grace nodded her head and replied enthusiastically. "They are ambassador. All these men wants is for their demands to be heard and that Parliament be held as it once was." Having been with these men for the past two months, she knew in her heart they only wished to have England restored to the true faith before Cromwell slipped his claws into the king.

"I have heard that they want all pensioners and officers of the crown to be excluded from Parliament as well as that money shall not be taken from the commoners unless war is to be made," Chapuys continued.

"The king in his arrogance will not give in. I am sure it is Cromwell who is behind the matter," Grace spoke, scowling at the fact that Cromwell would urge the king to increase taxes to fund this reformation.

"In other matters, I have also heard that the French king will marry his daughter to the King of Scots and that offers for the Lady Mary's hand have also been made," Chapuys added, trying to push the topic towards the main reason for his visit. "The Duke of Angouleme as well as Don Luis are both vying for her hand. And yet, his Holiness does not approve of Francois offering his son's hand to the Lady Mary for he does not wish them to be allies."

"But Francois will not let the marriage take place unless the Lady Mary is legitimized and made the king's true heir." Grace knew no king would make an offer of marriage unless Mary was somehow legitimized. They all wanted to increase their power and if she was the key to the throne of England, they would have her made the king's heir.

"The same could be said for the Emperor's proposal as well. If Lady Mary marries Don Luis, she should be declared the king's heiress in the case that the king has no lawful issue and that she should have a title as well as a corresponding income. Either way the Pope and the Emperor wish for Lady Mary to be made a princess again and that the good lady shall marry as you have. And I must inform you that the Pope and the Emperor may agree to send money to the pilgrims and his Holiness may send Master Reginald Pole to lead the opposition in response to this rebellion." Grace's eyes widened at Chapuys confession. If the Pope and the Emperor would do such a thing, the king could be overthrown and replaced.

"Margaret Pole's son?" Grace questioned. If there was to be such an opposition, she did not understand why Reginald and not Henry Pole would lead such an uprising. Henry was the eldest son. Perhaps because Reginald was a cardinal and served the Pope, he had been elected for the task.

"Yes. He will soon be made a cardinal by his Holiness according to my letters from Mendoza," Chapuys explained. "The rebels have asked that the Duke of Buckingham's property be returned to its lawful heir. Ursula Pole is married to Henry Stafford, the late duke's son, and as the duke's lands have been attainted, your brother received the title of Earl of Salisbury which had belonged to Margaret Pole."

"Yes and it was wrongfully taken from her, though my brother now holds that title." Grace may have felt badly for the Pole family, but she would defend her brother's title to the very end. "She is our Neville relative, but father rarely talks about her. We have only met with her when she was at court. She holds no ill will towards my father, though the title rightfully should be hers." As the daughter of the previously Duke of Clarence and granddaughter of the Earl of Warwick and Earl of Salisbury, Margaret should have held both titles, but because of her threat to the crown, the king and his father were both cautious of the Pole family.

"She is a good lady, but I fear her son is involved in some sort of plot against the king." Grace was confused, her eyebrows furrowing at Chapuys nervous behavior. "Lady Grace, if Lady Mary cannot be persuaded to replace her father, then Cardinal Pole shall replace her in his stead." Grace was completely shocked at Chapuys declaration, understanding why the Poles had been brought up in the first place. It was why the Pope was considering sending Pole as the leader of the opposition in the first place. But how had the king's spies not uncovered this information?

"And why would you tell me this, Chapuys? Why would I be told of such a plot that would threaten the security of the English throne?" Grace questioned. She was loyal to Mary, Chapuys knew that, but she would not betray the king because of all he had done to her. "I suggest you leave right now, ambassador, before I ask my husband to escort you out."

"Forgive me if I have upset you, my lady." Chapuys bowed to Grace, exiting the room and realizing his mistake in telling her about what Mendoza had written to him about. However, the dilemma was not that Chapuys had informed Grace of a discussed plan, but whether if Grace would tell the king or not when she returned to court at Christmastide.

A/N: Comments?