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Chapter Twenty-Seven: Sisterly Support.

27th of January 1532 - London, England

Staring down at the letter that she had received, Anne could not help but wonder how her father had taken such news; she was very aware that he had been expecting both her and Clarice to deliver boys. The news that Clarice had delivered a daughter would not have gone down well with Thomas Boleyn, he was desperate to secure his family legacy and Anne could not imagine just what he would say to this.

"Your Majesty?" Mary Boleyn asked approaching her sister, she had been keeping Anne company while she was in her confinement; she had never thought that she would see the day that Anne was Queen. It had taken five years for Anne to get to this point and Mary knew that it could have all gone wrong and Katherine could have remained Queen if it weren't for the fact that the Medici had stepped in.

"A letter from George. Clarice has been delivered of a daughter," Anne stated sharing the news of their niece's birth with her sister, it was glorious news even if it did make Anne worry. She moved to rest a hand on her own swollen belly, Anne couldn't help but think of the child that she was carrying and how Henry might react if she failed to give him the son that she had promised.

"I am sure papa was thrilled," Mary Boleyn replied shaking her head, she recalled how disappointed their father had been when she'd given her late husband a daughter first. Catherine Carey had been the first child that Mary had bore for her then husband, she had been so happy to hold her baby for the first time but that had been taken from her with how disappointed Thomas Boleyn had been.

William Carey had not said much to her, their relationship already strained by the fact that Mary had spent a short time as King Henry's mistress but the birth of a daughter had not helped. But he had been kind to her and had made sure that she had a comfortable life away from court with their children; it had greatly saddened her when he had passed from the Sweat. Moving to fix some of the baby clothes that Anne had been making for her child, Mary tried to distract herself from her worries knowing that she should focus on other things.

"Mary, what is the matter?" Anne asked turning to look at her sister, she had been rather quite since she had arrived from the family estate on the orders of their father since their mother was at Beaulieu with George and Clarice. She set down the letter and moved towards her, she had noticed how quiet her sister had been since she had married and become Queen of England; she wished to help but she couldn't do that if Mary didn't talk to her.

"I have met someone," Mary confessed quietly, a small smile on her face as she thought of him and knowing that he did not care what others said or thought of her. It did not matter to him that she was called the Great Whore, he saw her for her and not what her family could do for him or the fact that she was the sister of the new Queen of England.

"And who is this gentleman that has wooed my dear sister?" Anne asked her with a smile, she couldn't remember the last time that she had seen her sister like this and it made her happy. It was no secret that their father and uncle had grand plans for Mary's second marriage, they were looking for a husband that would support Anne should she need it and there had even been mention of the Duke of Hertford as a possible match. The smile dropped from Mary's face and Anne moved to take her hand, she wanted Mary to find happiness like she had with Henry and that George was finding with Clarice.

"His name is William Stafford, he's a soldier," Mary admitted quietly, William was a commoner and only a second son, not someone that anyone would think of a suitable match for the sister of the Queen. There was no way that she would be allowed to marry him and Mary didn't think she could be married off as a broodmare by her father and uncle; she just wanted to be happy.

If it was in her power then she would make sure that Mary would have her happiness, she knew that her sister's happiness sat in her hands. Anne stared at her for a moment, she would help her sister and she knew how but first she had to give Henry the son that he desired.

Mary's only hope was Anne and she hoped that by confiding in her beloved sister that she might help her, she didn't have any other options other than eloping and that would only end badly; to marry without the King and Queen's blessing would bring shame on her family. But Mary knew that should she be denied then she would do what was needed to secure her own happiness; she her tarnished reputation would make finding a good match difficult at best.

"A relative of the former Duke of Buckingham's?" Anne asked trying to think how to work this, the late Duke had been executed for treason against Henry. He had been conspiring to murder the King and take his throne, upon his arrest he had forfeiture of all the family's estates and titles; Anne wasn't sure how this would have affected Mary's William.

"A distant relative. He has fought for His Majesty many times and accompanied both of you to France," Mary informed her, she knew what Anne was thinking and she was most certain that her William was not using her to gain titles or prestige. He was a simple man and had no desire for politics or the like, he had no interest in fighting over things that had never belonged to him or his side of the family; they did not come from wealth and his father had fought for the York side during the Cousin's war.

Anne considered her sister, she watched her knowing that Mary's very happiness was in her hands; she did not wish to let her sister down. If it was in her power then she would make sure that Mary would have her happiness, she deserved that after everything that she had been through and Anne wished for her to be happy.

Taking Mary's hand, Anne offered her a warm smile seeing the look of worry that resided on her face; she could not do anything for the moment since she was in her confinement but if she did as she promised then she could help her sister. Henry held all the power but should she deliver a son then perhaps she could persuade him to ennoble Stafford enough for Mary to marry him. It didn't need to be a grand title but something that could support her sister and give her a comfortable life with her children; Anne knew that would be enough for Mary and make her very happy.

"I shall do what I can. I promise," Anne vowed wanting Mary to know that she was not alone in all of this, she was going to help her but it would take time and there was so much that she could not control.

Ippolito took a deep breath as he stared down at the letter that had arrived, the news that his sister had been delivered of a daughter was welcome news; she had done well and he would pray for her knowing that the danger was almost passed. It had crossed his mind that perhaps he might very well lose his sister during the labour or to childbed fever; he didn't know what he would do if something happened to her.

Clarice was the only true family that he had left, Ippolito had lost both his parents as had she and now they were so far away from the rest of their family that they cold only rely on one another. Despite the fact that she had married into the Boleyn family, Clarice would always be a Medici and Ippolito had no doubts that she would never forget where she had come from.

He smiled at the name that George and Clarice had decided upon, it was not a Boleyn family name but a Medici one and Ippolito was certain that their great, great grandmother would be honoured at Clarice naming her daughter after her. Contessina Boleyn was a fine name and Ippolito couldn't wait for the chance to meet her, he had already heard that Clarice and George had requested that Anne and Henry stand as their daughter's Godparents.

It would be an honour especially given that the King and Anne were the little girl's aunt and uncle; there was no denying that Contessina would be dotted upon. Despite not being the firstborn grandchild, Contessina was the firstborn child of the Duke and Duchess of Bedford, the niece to the new Queen of England; she would make a fine match for any man when she was older that Ippolito was certain.

Sighing, he turned his attentions to his own plans for marriage and down at the list of eligible ladies that might one day perhaps be his wife; a decision would one day be expected if he was to carry on his line but right now, he had no desire to marry. He was establishing himself here and Ippolito knew that should he wish to reclaim his rightful place as the ruler of Florence then he needed to find the right wife.

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