A Queen Twice Over: Mary Tudor the Elder Marries Francis I of France
- Thread starter FalconHonour
- Start date
Yet another way to stick a finger in Charles' eye!
And also has the benefit of keeping the @#$% bloody Inquisition out of there!
It does! It be even greater if Henry and Francis actually went there themselves! An English and French man Vs the Incas!
My main hope would be that the Incas are treated better by the English/French Expedition than they were OTL.
Of course, the Smallpox is probably still going to happen though...
They probably would be since part of the harsh treatment to the Incas was due to religion. The French and English aren't as fanatic as the Spaniards.
Unfortunately nobody at the time could stop the age old European weapon of smallpox
I don't think Henry and Francis would be able to go there personally. But, they could fund a joint venture to send ships there...They probably would be since part of the harsh treatment to the Incas was due to religion. The French and English aren't as fanatic as the Spaniards.
Unfortunately nobody at the time could stop the age old European weapon of smallpox
I know, but damn the things they’d get up to if they did go would be fun!
If the chap Sol mentioned is sponsored and sent out he's going to not-yet-Canada rather than the Inca's.
Though England and France sharing the chocolate and coffee trade would be amusing.
Good read.
One point though, it's another Claude that is hunchback and clubfooted, who is this Claude's granddaughter.
I've definitely read that Claude of Brittany had a hunched back, though you might be right about the club foot.
Glad you enjoyed the first chapter!
So I'm finally caught up, and it's very fascinating to see how things are going.. Hopefully the French-Portugese match works out.. As for them (Henry and Francis) conquering the Inca, I'm not sure if it would work logistically speaking, and I doubt that the French and English would treat them much better, they were regarded as pagans after all.. Still, it would be interesting if the French colonized elsewhere, perhaps near the Florida area to screw over the Spanish..
I'm not sure we'll manage to have any colonial ventures more than mentioned in the story. The Americas are not my forte. But I'm determined to have an Anglo-French-Portuguese coalition ITTL. Glad you're enjoying things. I'll put the next chapter out for my birthday on Wednesday.
Section XLI - July 1522
Amboise, July 1522
The baby snuffles against Marie’s breast, nestling contentedly. She can’t help but giggle as his light breaths tickle her bare skin like feathers. She cups the back of his head, running her fingers gently over the dark down covering the delicate scalp.
“He’s beautiful,” she murmurs, thrilling inwardly as her hours-old son kicks sleepily and she can feel the strength beneath his swaddling. Even half-asleep, he has quite the set of legs on him.
“You see, mamours?” Francis chuckles, “I told you it would all be fine. Our son is strong.”
“He’s a warrior, like his father and his uncle,” Marie beams at her husband and Francis returns her grin.
“Indeed he is. So why don’t we name him for a warrior?”
“Guillaume? For the Conqueror? Or Richard, for the Lionheart?” Marie wrinkles her nose. Those are both lovely names, but despite herself, she can’t seem to make them fit her new-born son. They just don’t seem right for him.
Francis laughs, “Oh, you are an Englishwoman at heart, aren’t you? You may say you’re not, but eight years a French Queen and yet your mind still jumps first to the English heroes. No. I was thinking of the warrior who helped my ancestor run the Plantagenets out of France. The Maid of Orleans.”
“Jeanne d’Arc,” Marie breathes, rolling the name around in her mouth, testing it out, “Jeanne. Jean. Jean Valois.”
Pausing, she gives her husband a decided nod, “I like it.”
“Jean, Count of Angouleme,” Francis smiles and reaches out to place his hand on top of hers where she is cradling their son’s head.
“We’ll make little Annabelle his godmother, shall we? Annabelle for godmother and Ferrara for godfather. Let’s try and heal the breach that Margot’s new betrothal has caused.”
Marie flinches slightly at that, before Francis’s tone tells her that he is more amused than upset by the Duke of Ferrara’s furious reaction to being told that the glittering match he thought he had secured for his son was no longer on the cards. When she looks up at her husband, his dark eyes are sparkling, reassuring her that he doesn’t regret betrothing Margot to the young King of Portugal. Not a whit.
She huffs lightly at her own foolishness – she does so hate how fickle her emotions are while she’s lying-in – and nods.
“And perhaps Cardinal Lorraine too? After all, he is doing us such sterling service in Rome. We ought to reward him somehow.”
Francis nods, “As you say, ma cherie. Lorraine it shall be. Speaking of rewards, moreover, I have plans to make Fran Governor of Normandy now that things have settled sufficiently to allow me to consider such things. After all, the man who captured the Emperor must have a post where his skills can be put to good use. What do you say to that?”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Marie beams, “Quite apart from anything else, it’ll keep Annie close to Renee when she and François set up their marital home in Nantes. The girls will be thrilled.”
To show how much she appreciates the thought, she leans up, ignoring the pull of her protesting muscles, and pecks her husband on the cheek, “Now go and fetch the children to meet their new brother before this little one decides he’s no longer in the mood for visitors. I should like us to feel like a family, even if only for five minutes.”
Grumbling good-naturedly about how childbirth makes women demanding, Francis heaves himself off the four-poster and does as he’s told. Marie watches him go, eyes warm with affection. She does so enjoy when she and Francis are on the same page.
Windsor, July 1522
No!” Mary wrenches away from Henry’s desperate hold, grey eyes blazing, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again! I won’t become your mistress!”
“Mary, sweetheart, please. I don’t think you understand. Maitresse-en-titre isn’t just an empty title. It’s a position of honour, a clear sign that you hold a place in my heart that no other woman does. Why, when I was in France…”
“We are not in France!” Mary throws the words in Henry’s face, snarling.
Astonished that she should speak so boldly to him, Henry actually rears backwards, and a vicious satisfaction goes through her at the sight of his stricken face. She draws herself up as tall as she can and hisses, “Have you forgotten who I am? I am a Talbot of Shrewsbury, not some light-o-love to be quickly bedded and just as quickly forgotten. If Your Grace doesn’t think highly enough of me to make me your wife, that’s your prerogative. But by God Above, I won’t be your mistress! I have my pride!”
She glares at him sourly and then turns on her heel. Henry will follow her, she is confident of that. He might play the part of the boastful, virile King, but underneath all the jovial bluster is an insecure little boy crying out for affection.
Still, it can do no harm to make sure of him, so as she turns away, she mutters under her breath, “Perhaps I should return to Shrewsbury. At least I am respected as the flower of my family there.”
She pauses, waiting for her words to sink in, and then begins to walk away, measuring her steps so that she is easy to catch, even as she appears to be retreating.
She gets all of six paces before the King catches her by the arm, “No, darling, please don’t,” He pleads, “I’m sorry. I should never have sought to demean you like that. It was beneath me as a knight.”
“It was. And it hurt me, Henry. I’m a true maid, you know that. I’ll not yield my maidenhead before I’m wed. Especially not after what happened to my great-great-great aunt. You know people still talk about that story. “
“I know. I know. And we’ll make it right, sweetheart. I promise. As soon as the annulment comes from Rome, we’ll make it right.”
Henry tugs gently on Mary’s arm and she lets herself yield to him, melting into his arms as any besotted young woman might do. She feels him relax as she softens and smirks. Silly, besotted fool. Can’t he see she’s playing him like a fiddle?
“In the meantime, what can I do to make this awful slight up to you?” he murmurs into her hair.
“Let my brother wed Lady Margaret,” she says instantly and Henry starts.
“Meg? But she’s just a child!”
“She won’t be a child forever. And my brother deserves better than a baron’s daughter, doesn’t he? He’s going to be as good as royalty, he can do better than a baron’s daughter.”
She keeps her voice stiff, hovering on the edge of coolness, and Henry melts immediately. He cannot bear her to be displeased with him.
“Of course he does. Of course he does. You’re right, sweetheart, as always.”
“And you’ll forget the plans you had to ennoble Master Fitzroy.”
When Henry shifts to protest, she pulls against his hold, “If I’m to be your Queen, then I won’t have your natural son in any position to challenge our heir. It’s already bad enough he’s going to be at least four years older. I won’t have you giving him a peerage as well.”
Henry hesitates, and for a moment, Mary thinks she might have pushed too far, too fast. But then he slumps, and she knows that she has won.
“As you say, my darling.”
“Good. Now, let’s forget this unpleasantness ever happened, shall we?”
Mary reaches up and guides Henry’s mouth to her own. She lets him rest his hand on her breast, caressing the skin with his smooth fingers. She can afford to be generous, after all. He’s just declared, almost irrefutably, that she will be Queen the moment the papers declaring him a free man arrive from Rome. She can afford to be generous.
York Place, July 1522
George Cavendish sees the scarlet flags of his master’s entourage half a mile away.
Heart in his mouth, he scrambles down to the courtyard of York Place to meet him. Has his master succeeded? Does he have what the King has asked for?
No one at York Place wants to admit it, but if, God forbid, the Cardinal has failed in his endeavours, then his place in the King’s good graces will be so shaken that he may well never regain it. After all, everyone knows His Grace is besotted with Lady Mary Talbot; that he is champing at the bit to set the Queen aside and marry her.
Heaven help England if that happens, for the object of the King’s affections is a poisonous woman, constantly ill-tempered and dissatisfied.
But heaven help Thomas Wolsey if it does not.
Pausing by the mounting block, George bows deeply to his master. Their eyes meet briefly as he straightens and an unspoken question passes between them.
In answer, the Cardinal gives a discreet nod and taps the satchel he carries.
Relief floods through George. His master has succeeded. The King is a free man.
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Yay another healthy baby for Marie!!! Mistress Talbot plays a clever game, but Catherine will be absolutely livid to hear that he remarries to someone that's a mere local noble, and that he's willing to do things for her that he wouldn't for his first wife.. Excellent chapter!
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Well, I think that a Valois named Richard or William (though I doubt Mary would think about Lionheart, the most recent Richard she heard about was Richard III and he was certainly NOT liked by her) would be a cool addition to all that Charleses, Louises, etc. being around, maybe if they had next son, Francis could name him after one of Plantagenets?
And John/Jean could be interpreted as Plantagenet name as well - John of Bedford and John, duke of Somerset both come to mind.
Also - good chapter and happy birthday to you!
Mistress Talbot reminds me of a certain biblical phrase: pride goeth before a fall.
Amazing chapter, as always!
Amazing chapter, as always!
Well, as someone else once said, besotted Henry is the worst Henry. I'm playing up to that here...
She does indeed - the Succession has never been more secure!
Unfortunately the fall is quite some way off yet...Mistress Talbot reminds me of a certain biblical phrase: pride goeth before a fall.
Amazing chapter, as always!
Thank you!
I see what you mean, but I was going for the fact that her brother has always wanted to conquerthe old Plantagenet Empire and was pious. He would have sought to emulate Richard I, I should think, and Marie would only have echoed her beloved older brother.
But yes, Plantagenet namesakes are on the way, I promise.
And thank you for the birthday wishes!