Disclaimer: I do not own the Tudors.
Face claim for Clarice de' Medici - Synnøve Karlsen.
Chapter One Hundred & Sixteen: The Duke of Wiltshire.
1st of January 1539 - Richmond Palace
King Henry was in fine spirits as he seated in the hall, laughing and joking with his closest friends and allies; he was surrounded by Howards and Boleyns taking pride of place within the extended family of his wife. Queen Anne had been begun her labours for their fifth child and King Henry was sparing no expense with the celebrations for the birth of their child.
There were jousts planned and tourneys, the children had all been brought to court with the exception of Alexander who remained in Ludlow. Elizabeth, Beatrice and Geoffrey had been paraded round court during yule, the pride of King Henry especially with four living children under his belt from his marriage to Anne with another to join the royal nursery soon enough.
"You're quiet," The Duchess of Wiltshire noted moving to stand beside her husband, watching the scene before them of the King surrounded by their relatives. If someone had told her when King Henry had shown interest in Anne all those years ago that this was how it would end up, she would have called them a liar.
"I am just thinking of our good fortune," Thomas Boleyn replied, taking the hand of his wife and pressed a kiss to it; he found himself thinking of the past more these days. Anne had always been destined for more, despite being originally promised to James Butler during negotiations to settle a dispute over the title of the Earldom of Ormond.
There was no denying that such a marriage would have been wasted on Anne, to see her fly so high and achieve so much had been his greatest pride. Thomas nor Elizabeth would not forget the days where Anne had been forced to retreat to Hever to escape the attentions of King Henry. How her reputation had been ruined by the King and his insistence of having her in anyway that he could, Thomas recalled how furious he had been even as Anne was forced to accept there was no escape from Henry.
"We are the grandparents of the future King of England, our granddaughters have fine matches with royal princes and I have no doubts that the Duke of York will also make a grand match," Thomas noted, the Tudor line would spread far from English shores and the Boleyn line with it. Thomas never could have imagined that one dance could lead to all of this, the Boleyn name would not be forgotten; every monarch from Alexander's accession would be related to him.
"There is much we have to celebrate," Elizabeth agreed with her husband, she looked towards the King who was chatting deeply with members of the Howard family that surrounded him; there was no sign of his latest mistress in sight. Henry had certainly learned his lesson in regards to Jane Bryan, he would not parade a mistress around court again nor would her family benefit from his attentions.
His current mistress was Anne Bassett, a lady in Anne's household, who had become Jane Bryan's replacement months after Jane had been cast out of court; she had held the position for several months now. The doors to the chamber were suddenly filled with life and the Boleyns turned to see the entrance of Thomas Seymour; the second Seymour boy was out of breath as he quickly approached the King.
"It is a son, Her Majesty has been safely delivered of a prince," Thomas Seymour announced the joyful news for all to hear, he stared up at the King knowing that this would surely please His Majesty. Henry could not stop the smile from forming on his face, the relief he felt in knowing that the Tudor succession was secure with three sons; that he had done his father proud and ensure the Tudor dynasty would continue.
"He shall be Prince Edward, Duke of Pembroke," Henry announced getting to his feet, people around him cheering and congratulating the King for the wonderful news. The Dukedom had been Anne's in her own right before she had married Henry and her title had merged with the crown; now it seemed fitting that their third son would hold it.
Alexander, Geoffrey and Edward. The three Tudor Princes.
Thomas Boleyn felt a sense of pride knowing that nothing could take away from this moment; he nodded to the King as the man passed him on his way to see Anne and their new prince.
12th of February 1539 - Palace of Beaulieu
"Margaret writes that the boy is doing well but the mother wants little to do with him," Elizabeth noted with a frown, staring at the letter from her older half-sister who was currently away from the royal nursery where she served as governess. Lady Margaret Bryan had stepped away from her position after the announcement that Jane and Francis were expecting a child together; traveling to Wallingford Castle so that she could be a support to Jane. A son had been born to the viscount and viscountess, one that had been warmly welcomed by his father and named Thomas for Francis' father.
"Is it little surprise? Jane still imagines that the King will leave Anne to be with her," George Boleyn noted with a shake of his head, he didn't envy his cousin for his marriage to the former mistress of the king. Even nearly three years on, Jane still insisted that Henry would come to his senses and leave Anne; that he would cast aside his false wife and make Jane is Queen, that he would see sense when she could speak to him. The birth of Edward had done little to dissuade Jane from her thoughts, that Henry would cast aside the woman that had given him three sons and secured the Tudor line.
"I pity Francis for having to deal with such a delusional wife… perhaps a nunnery would have been better for her," Thomas muttered shaking his head, Francis was a good and loyal man to the King and Anne; there was no doubt that he would remain so especially with the rewards that he was given for marrying Jane. George sipped on his wine, looking out the window at the setting sun and he couldn't help but think about how lucky he had been to have Clarice by his side.
Clarice was the light of his life, the mother of his children and George prayed that he would never have to face this word without her. Contessina, Filiberta, William and Piccarda were everything to him; he adored his children, wanting the best for them and he knew that it would not be easy especially to be linked to the royal family.
Even the new baby that would be born this day, George could not imagine what the future would hold for them; they would be the second family of court, the children being raised in close range with their royal cousins. Contessina and Piccarda would likely one day serve in a royal household, Filiberta would dance the fine line between two kings in her own future role.
There was already talk of Piccarda being one of the ladies that would eventually join Elizabeth when she travelled to Sweden to marry Prince Eric; George knew that all his daughters would be educated as well as the princess. George knew that one day all his children would fly the nest, he was not looking forward to such a time; they all seemed to be growing up far too quickly for his liking.
"Is there any word on when Henri will come to England?" Elizabeth asked knowing that the plan for the second Medici boy to become a ward of George's was something that had been discussed for as long as any of them could remember. Henri would inherit the English titles of his parents, ensuring the Medici line could continue in England while his older brother inherited the Italian titles. "
Late next year if everything goes to plan, I do not think that Mary is quite ready to let go of her youngest just yet," George noted, his sister-in-law had recently suffered a miscarriage and wanted to keep her children close as she recovered. Not that he nor Clarice could fault her for such things, Florence was quite a long way from England and it was quite the trip for the not even two year old to make.
"Her Grace has been safely delivered of a son," one of Clarice's ladies announced entering the room, a smile on her face as she looked to the Duke knowing that he would be most interested on hearing the news of his wife. Clarice had laboured for a short time, much faster than it had been with her other pregnancies and she was most relieved to be done especially now that her son was in her arms.
Thomas could not have been more pleased at the news, he clapped George on the shoulder knowing that everything would be well; that George and his line was as secure as Anne with hers. A second son was nothing to be shy about and Clarice had done as she had promised to secure the Boleyn legacy; their name would not be forgotten in history and Thomas could not be more thankful for that.
12th of March 1539 - Hever Castle
Sitting at the desk in his office, working on the document before him, Thomas Boleyn would say that he had lived a very blessed life. There were so many things that could have nor worked out in his favour, some many things that could have brought down his family but they had succeeded far greater than anyone could have expected.
Thomas paused in his writing, a sadness about him that he could not shake even in the happier moments of these last couple of months; even as he worked on his last will and testament making sure everything was in order. No, it wasn't something that he had discussed with anyone, the sense that his life was coming to an end; that these were his last days.
Of course, he had made previsions for his wife before anyone else. Elizabeth would be looked after, money ensuring her widowhood and he had left her a letter, assuring her that should she desire to remarry then she would have his blessing to do so. Then there had been his eldest daughter, Mary, despite the title and lands given by the King upon her marriage to William Stafford, Thomas intended to leave his eldest daughter with a sum of money in case the worst should happen and she would not be left as well off as her siblings.
George was his only son and heir, his titles, lands and majority of his wealth would pass to him when the time came; George would have two sons to secure the Boleyn line, William and John. He would become the Duke of Bedford and Wiltshire upon Thomas passing away, it would be on him to lead the family and Thomas had ensured George knew everything that he needed to know.
Anne would be left family jewellery, her own position so secure now that she had given Henry three sons; the boys that no one could deny were the kings. There was Alexander, the Tudor. Geoffrey, the Boleyn. And Edward, the York. Each of them taking after an aspect of their heritage that made Thomas so proud to call himself their grandfather.
His greatest regret was that he would not live to see Alexander take to the throne, the moment that Thomas had longed to see; to see his own blood crowned with St Edward's Crown. He paused in his writing, looking back over his shoulder towards an unseen figure that seemed to be following him these days.
"It is time then," Thomas noted, he sent down his quill and turned to the figure with a grave look upon his family, he stared at the unseen figure that he greeted as an old friend. He had lived a good life, he was sixty-two years old and he had very few regrets; he had could die with peace in his heart knowing that all his family were well. Thomas looked to what he had been writing, he had done everything that he could to prepare his family for what came next that they would be strong enough to go on without him.
"I still feel that there is so much for me to still do," Thomas admitted shaking his head mournfully, he slowly got to his feet and pushed the chair under his desk; the room dark with only a few candle remaining to light his way. He looked to the figure as if expecting some sort of response, he wondered if he had made them proud; he wondered how much they had seen in what he had done.
His father said nothing as he stared at Thomas, his face betraying nothing of what was to come nor the heartache that his death would cause; William could only watch as his son moved through the room. The world around Thomas slowly began to spin, a sharp pain in his chest that he clutched at; his legs giving out from under him and he crashed to the floor.
Gasping for breath, his calls for help were gargled as his manservant quickly entered the room before racing back to summon help for his master. The pain in Thomas' chest only seemed to grow, his face was covered in sweat as the pain spread from his chest, up his neck and down his left arm.
"Thomas?" Elizabeth cried hurrying into the room, she dropped to the floor beside her husband and taking his hand in her own; she pulled him to her lap as her lady stood behind her watching the horrifying scene. Elizabeth having heard the manservants call for aid when he had fled from the room, she had been readying herself for bed after her evening prayer. Thomas stared at Elizabeth reaching out to touch her face, to wipe away her tears before the world around him grew dark and Elizabeth screamed.
I recommend Bed of Deceit by BellalunaMcKenzie, For Even as Love Crowns You by wizardfantasy and Sanctuary by Cattyfan. Also check out My Lord Husband, The Enemy by Esme24, That Subtle Wreath by EvilFluffyBiteyThing and its sequel, A Progress in Kent.
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