A Queen Twice Over: Mary Tudor the Elder Marries Francis I of France
- Thread starter FalconHonour
- Start date
I do feel for Henry here- all his hopes lie in that small coffin.
Is Mary to blame? Possibly, maybe- she did arrange the Prince's household and security, BUT Henry never really checked on these either.
I do hope he does not find a mistress yet, not before the funeral, and he find time for his other children.
Understandable what Francis did, but should be sure to call on his Queen in a few hours so they can compose a response to that letter together methinks.
Is Mary to blame? Possibly, maybe- she did arrange the Prince's household and security, BUT Henry never really checked on these either.
I do hope he does not find a mistress yet, not before the funeral, and he find time for his other children.
Understandable what Francis did, but should be sure to call on his Queen in a few hours so they can compose a response to that letter together methinks.
Indeed, and you can be sure Diane will be stepping up to the plate where giving Henry a peaceful family life is concerned. If he wants to soothe himself by surrounding himself with Hal and Edmund and little Peggy, she's not going to be the one to stop him.
Sadly, little Lillibet may well have to look to Princess Mary, Meg and Nora for help here..
Indeed they do, and of course Mary's not fully to blame, apart from letting George stay out playing rather than making him go inside to take a nap, but when is grief rational? Particularly if it's Henry's grief?
And yes, Francis and Marie probably do need to put their heads together...
Henry is Henry… He need someone to blame and Mary was an easy choice (specially as she had made everything for keeping full control over her son’s household).
Henry has just lost his long awaited heir in which he had put all his hopes so his reaction can be only bad
It was supposed to...
Indeed, Mary was the easy choice for a scapegoat, and we all know Henry likes his scapegoats.
Ah, now that would be spoilers, wouldn't it? 😉
Just so you all know, I have retrospectively gone back and given Diane a subsidiary title, Countess of Kendal, so that both Henry's bastard sons are Earls.
Section LXIX - December 1527
A brief glimpse of some royal cousins as an early Christmas present for you all! Enjoy!
The seamstresses are busy as bees, bustling and clucking around them with swathes and swathes of black brocade and velvet, when Meg dares broach the subject.
“Was that Lillibet I heard screaming again last night?”
“Meg!” Mary hisses, colour rushing to her cheeks. She sends the seamstresses running from the room with a look learnt straight from her father and slams the door behind them before whirling on her cousin, “You know Papa doesn’t like Lillibet’s nightmares to be bandied about in front of the servants. God forbid we might appear anything less than perfect, especially after last week.”
Meg has the grace to look abashed. She ducks her coppery head for a moment, and bites the inside of her cheek, before she pushes her younger cousin, “Was it, though?”
Mary nods and Meg winces.
“I didn’t think she’d seen. I thought I’d managed to shield her from it.”
“I don’t think she did,” Mary reassures, shaking her fair head, just slightly, “But think what we were like at four. We always put pieces together, even if we didn’t always make the right pictures. Lillibet knows something’s happened to George, even if she doesn’t quite know what because you managed to shield her eyes. She knows we’re all in mourning and that we’re not spending Christmas with Papa and the Queen the way we were supposed to, that we’ve been banished back to Hunsdon. She might not know the details, but she can jolly well put enough together to scare her.”
“Did Nora end up looking after her?”
“Of course she did. In fact, she’s with her now. You know Lillibet won’t accept anyone else when she’s really upset.”
Meg nods, then sucks her lower lip thoughtfully, “It’s odd, really, her preference for Nora. Why not want you or Lady Bury? Why Nora?”
Mary sighs, then shrugs, “Honestly, Meg? I think it’s because Nora’s never really had a mother either.”
Meg flushes abruptly. She opens her mouth to protest, but Mary raises a placating hand, “I know you haven’t either, but let’s be honest. Of the two of you, Nora’s definitely the gentle one!”
Mary laughs wryly, and while Meg pretends to look offended at the younger girl’s jibe, she soon can’t help but join in the merriment, though she does pause a few seconds later and cock her head to the side.
“But Lillibet’s got a mother.”
“The Queen?” Mary scoffs, “When has Her Grace ever treated Lillibet with anything resembling maternal affection? Or any of us, come to that? George was always her favourite, Meg, you know that.”
Mary’s cerulean eyes cloud for a moment and she gazes absently out of the nearest window.
“I’ll never do that,” she murmurs, “When Henri and I have children, I’ll never favour one over the other. Not now that I’ve seen what it does to Lillibet.”
“You’re planning ahead. You won’t even be marrying Henri for another six years!”
Meg knows her teasing is weak at best, and winces as the words leave her mouth, but to her relief, they are enough to pull Mary from her reverie. The younger girl turns back to face her and manages a watery smile.
“You’re right. It is a while off yet. And in the meantime, I have a brother to be Chief Mourner for. So let’s get these seamstresses back in, or we’ll never have our gowns finished in time for us to move to Windsor. Mistress Hilton!”
Before Meg can say a word, Mary has raised her voice, summoning their seamstress.
Then she sets her shoulders and nods to Meg, who has no choice but to follow her cousin’s example. Biting her tongue, she lets Mary pull her into a less consequential conversation as the seamstresses bustle back in, muttering darkly amongst themselves about the wasted time.
Hundson, December 1527
The seamstresses are busy as bees, bustling and clucking around them with swathes and swathes of black brocade and velvet, when Meg dares broach the subject.
“Was that Lillibet I heard screaming again last night?”
“Meg!” Mary hisses, colour rushing to her cheeks. She sends the seamstresses running from the room with a look learnt straight from her father and slams the door behind them before whirling on her cousin, “You know Papa doesn’t like Lillibet’s nightmares to be bandied about in front of the servants. God forbid we might appear anything less than perfect, especially after last week.”
Meg has the grace to look abashed. She ducks her coppery head for a moment, and bites the inside of her cheek, before she pushes her younger cousin, “Was it, though?”
Mary nods and Meg winces.
“I didn’t think she’d seen. I thought I’d managed to shield her from it.”
“I don’t think she did,” Mary reassures, shaking her fair head, just slightly, “But think what we were like at four. We always put pieces together, even if we didn’t always make the right pictures. Lillibet knows something’s happened to George, even if she doesn’t quite know what because you managed to shield her eyes. She knows we’re all in mourning and that we’re not spending Christmas with Papa and the Queen the way we were supposed to, that we’ve been banished back to Hunsdon. She might not know the details, but she can jolly well put enough together to scare her.”
“Did Nora end up looking after her?”
“Of course she did. In fact, she’s with her now. You know Lillibet won’t accept anyone else when she’s really upset.”
Meg nods, then sucks her lower lip thoughtfully, “It’s odd, really, her preference for Nora. Why not want you or Lady Bury? Why Nora?”
Mary sighs, then shrugs, “Honestly, Meg? I think it’s because Nora’s never really had a mother either.”
Meg flushes abruptly. She opens her mouth to protest, but Mary raises a placating hand, “I know you haven’t either, but let’s be honest. Of the two of you, Nora’s definitely the gentle one!”
Mary laughs wryly, and while Meg pretends to look offended at the younger girl’s jibe, she soon can’t help but join in the merriment, though she does pause a few seconds later and cock her head to the side.
“But Lillibet’s got a mother.”
“The Queen?” Mary scoffs, “When has Her Grace ever treated Lillibet with anything resembling maternal affection? Or any of us, come to that? George was always her favourite, Meg, you know that.”
Mary’s cerulean eyes cloud for a moment and she gazes absently out of the nearest window.
“I’ll never do that,” she murmurs, “When Henri and I have children, I’ll never favour one over the other. Not now that I’ve seen what it does to Lillibet.”
“You’re planning ahead. You won’t even be marrying Henri for another six years!”
Meg knows her teasing is weak at best, and winces as the words leave her mouth, but to her relief, they are enough to pull Mary from her reverie. The younger girl turns back to face her and manages a watery smile.
“You’re right. It is a while off yet. And in the meantime, I have a brother to be Chief Mourner for. So let’s get these seamstresses back in, or we’ll never have our gowns finished in time for us to move to Windsor. Mistress Hilton!”
Before Meg can say a word, Mary has raised her voice, summoning their seamstress.
Then she sets her shoulders and nods to Meg, who has no choice but to follow her cousin’s example. Biting her tongue, she lets Mary pull her into a less consequential conversation as the seamstresses bustle back in, muttering darkly amongst themselves about the wasted time.
Well, out of the mouths of babes and all that... Saying that, they're not so little anymore. Meg turned twelve in October 1527, and Mary will be twelve in February 1528, so in the eyes of the world, they're basically women now.
Assuming all goes according to plan with their current betrothals, Meg will become Countess of Surrey in 1530, when Henry Howard turns fourteen, and Mary will be Duchess of Milan and Orleans in 1533, so it's not really all that far off now...
Awww poor Mary, much like her mother she's learned from a young age that those she loves (siblings in both cases) can easily be snatched away..
And thus the impact grief can have on a family. I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't try to grow up a lot quicker now... To take a maternal place in Lillibet's life rather than a sororal one. Although Nora is already stepping up to the plate in that regard...
Mary, Meg and Nora, at eleven and twelve respectively, know only too well what's going on. But four-year-old Lillibet's struggling, yes. Fortunately, she's a fairly easygoing child generally. She looks like her mother, but she hasn't inherited her temperament... Much to Lady Bryan and Lady Salisbury's relief, I might add!
Missed these last two chapters. My god, poor Henry. You can feel the pain and the anger that he feels. It must be horrible to lose a child. And poor Henry has lost some before. I hope he doesn’t lose anymore. Mary is gonna be crushed when she learns of her nephews death.