A Queen Twice Over: Mary Tudor the Elder Marries Francis I of France
- Thread starter FalconHonour
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Also, yes, I could absolutely see Jean taking a native mistress, his own version of La Malinche, if you like 🙃
As far as England is concerned, I'm not sure they have any colonies yet, other than their French/Flemish lands, which are trotting along quite nicely, thank you.
Just for extra chaos, have Jean take over Brazil and establish a independent kingdom!
Er, yeah, Joao and Margot might have something to say about that... But a native common law wife? That I can manage...
As it would be Jean's second rebellion against an older sibling, absolutely...
Section CXLII: January 1537
Kilkenny, January 1537
Nora wakes on the morning of Twelfth Night to find Kate bustling around her bedchamber and a beautiful gown of sea-green velvet laid out on her clothes press. She’s never seen it before, and, when pressed, Kate only laughs.
“Lord Ross had it sent up for you this morning. He told me to make sure you were dressed in your best and then bring you down to the chapel immediately.”
“Immediately?!” Nora flushes, throwing back the bedclothes and snatching up her hairbrush, “I’m not late for Mass, am I? And on Twelfth Night too!”
“Not at all,” Kate laughs, a secretive, excited light entering her eyes, “Believe me, Nora, we’re not going to start without you. Today of all days, we’re not starting without you.”
For all Kate’s statements that they need to be down in Kilkenny Castle’s chapel as soon as possible, she takes an inordinate amount of care with Nora’s toilette, pinkening her cheeks with crushed rose petals, weaving a net of emerald chips into her curly blonde hair and crowning the whole ensemble with a crown of bright holly and rosemary.
“Why, Kate, anyone would think you were dressing me for my wedding, not Twelfth Night mass,” Nora teases, as her sister-in-law fluffs out her curls for what must be the tenth time, still not satisfied with how they tumble to the younger woman’s waist.
To her surprise, Kate flushes scarlet. Nora’s jaw drops open.
“Are you? You’re – You’re not really, are you?!”
“It’s – it’s your Twelfth Night gift!”
Straightforward, outspoken Kate has always found it hard to keep secrets from those who know her best, for all she can play the consummate courtier with ease in public, and, faced with Nora’s dark Boleyn stare, which is so like her older brother’s, she can’t keep the words inside any longer, not when they’re going to bring the younger woman such joy, “George and Lord Ross have been plotting this for weeks. I wasn’t supposed to say anything until we reached the chapel, but since you’ve asked me outright…Jamie’s confessor is waiting at the chapel to wed you and Lord Ross before the entire household. You’ll be a Duchess before we break our fast.”
“And I shall be a happy one!” Nora breathes, jumping up to throw her arms around Kate, “Oh, I shall be so happy! Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Don’t thank me, thank your brother and your husband,” Kate laughs, but she can’t help dropping the lightest of kisses on Nora’s forehead before she takes her by the hand and leads her, still blinking with delight, to Kilkenny Castle’s chapel.
George, darkly handsome in a doublet of forest green brocade laced with silver, meets them at the chapel door. Nora rakes him with her eyes, searching him for any hint of insincerity.
“Is this really happening?” she asks, voice sparkling with disbelieving joy, “George, is this really happening?”
George glances from her radiant excitement to Kate, half a pace behind her. In an instant, he knows.
“You told her, didn’t you?” he sighs exasperatedly. Kate throws her hands up in protest.
“You know I can’t keep a secret from any of you! I’ll have you know that the Boleyn stare works just as well in sapphire as it does in onyx! She guessed as soon as I started fussing with her hair!”
George shakes his head, “Kate, I gave you one job!”
A moment later, however, he looks back at Nora and decides it doesn’t matter. Surprise or not, his little sister is still marrying the man she adores beyond all reason. Her reputation is still being restored, at long, long last. That’s what really matters.
He places Nora’s hand on his arm.
“It’s happening, little sister,” he promises, “It’s really happening. Are you ready to outrank every one of us? Papa is going to have kittens when he hears what a coup we’ve pulled off this morning."
Nora throws her head back laughing at that, and George has never heard a sweeter sound. The musical notes ringing in his ears, he leads his baby sister into the chapel for her wedding mass.
“She looks stunning.”
It is the only thought that goes through Sawney’s mind as he sees Nora coming up the aisle towards him, her slender fingers tight on George’s arm. The sea-green velvet suits her down the ground, as he always knew it would, and her face is so bright with joy that he fancies you could probably light the whole of the castle with it.
In that instant, knowing it is only right, he whips his cap of amber velvet from his head, and clasps it to his chest in respect, letting the weak December sunlight play among his sleek dark hair.
“My darling Nora,” he breathes, taking her from George and kissing her hand, bowing to her and beaming up at her as he does so.
The look they share in that moment – as her sapphire eyes meet his blue-grey ones – is so full of love, it is as though they are the only two in the room. George has to cough slightly to recall them to where they are, lest the smouldering look they are giving each other burst into flame and they anticipate their vows before the poor confessor’s very eyes.
Then he steps back to take his place in the front pew beside Kate as Jamie’s confessor begins to intone the vows.
"Do you, Alexander, Duke of Ross, take this woman, Mistress Eleanor Boleyn, to be your lawful wedded wife; to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer and for better or for worse, until death do you part? Do you vow to love her and cherish her and to forsake all other women for her, now and forever, as long as you both shall live?"
Sawney glances at Nora, feeling the look on his face should really speak as answer enough, but knowing he has to answer aloud for the vows to truly hold. She returns his smile, her sapphire eyes sparkling through the mesh of her silver veil. "I do so solemnly swear."
Pleased with his answer, the priest nods, and turns to Nora, who silently tightens her hand on Sawney’s as she waits to be asked.
"And do you, Mistress Eleanor Boleyn, take this man, Alexander, Duke of Ross, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer and for better or for worse, until death do you part? Do you swear to love him and cherish him and to forsake all other men for him, now and forever, as long as you both shall live?"
Nora's voice rings the rafters of Kilkenny as she says, "I do so solemnly swear."
At Nora's words, her little nieces, Bess and Annie, step forward, each clutching a silken cushion bearing a diamond and ruby ring as though their lives depend upon it.
Too excited to wait any longer, Nora beams down at her younger niece and plucks the trinket off the cushion, sliding it on to Sawney’s finger before anyone can do more than gasp at her breach of propriety in not letting the royal Duke go first.
"With this ring, I thee wed."
Chuckling at his soon-to-be wife's swift actions, Sawney inclines his head to little Bess, silently thanking her, then gently encloses Nora's hand in his once more, looking her straight in the eyes as he murmurs, "Nora Boleyn, with this ring, I thee wed."
Nora can’t wait any longer. Scorning propriety, she throws back her veil and the confessor has to almost gabble his permission for Sawney to kiss her if he is to regain any control of the situation.
Laughter and applause ring the rafters as their lips meet and Sawney smiles into the kiss, his heart melting in his chest as he feels Nora do the same.
“Well, My Lady Ross? How do you like this?” he whispers, in that brief moment before they turn from the altar to process back down out of the chapel.
Nora beams up at him, her hand sliding up to his cheek.
“I like it very well indeed, husband.”
I think it's at least partly because I adore them together, so I just enjoy writing them. It probably shines through.
Aww what a sweet, beautiful scene with Norah and Sawney, I hope they both grow old (for the time at least) together.