I wouldn’t exactly call an alliance with France nothing.
This also applies to the daughters of Henri II thanks to Francis I’s Act of Union. How many of them married useless second sons?
An Heir To Rule
- Thread starter Tudorfan
- Start date
One married a King, then died. And second married a Duke. They'd probably have been happier - or alive - in other marriages, truth be told.
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An independent Duke. That is an important distinction here.
By all accounts, Elisabeth and Claude had great relationships with their husbands, actually. But happiness isn't the goal of royal marriages in Early Modern Europe, political advantage is (and there's no advantage for France in marrying Renee to a useless second son).
Sadly, there was no other husband available for her. I already have plans for Ferrara, so I had nowhere else to marry her to. Portugal made the most sense - she's a second daughter, he's a second son, they're both the children of monarchs, he's a Duke, she's a Duchess.
Second daughter doesn’t mean the same as second son. I think it would make more sense for, say, Louise or Charlotte of Brittany to be Duchess of guarda with renee married to James v
Sadly, neither of them are old enough (Charlotte, poor girl, is only 12; I'm not sending her to Portugal that young!) Renee, at least, can have babies relatively soon.
Who said she had to be sent immediately? Betrothals are a thing, and since Ferdinand is actually a third son (it seems we, myself included, forgot about Luis), there's no urgency for him to have babies compared to James V, a king who needs legitimate heirs.
I had forgotten about him, but due to plans I have he's not available anyway...
Too many people with the name Thomas. Because I believe this is Thomas Boleyn
January 1529: Brandon Family Tree
Brandon Family Tree (Or at least the important bits; Sir William Brandon Jr has some unmentioned siblings)
January 1529
January 1529
- Sir William Brandon (b.1425 - d. 1491) m. Elizabeth Wingfield, Lady Brandon (b. 1430 - d. 28 April 1497)
- Anne Brandon, Lady Sidney (b. 1454 - d. 1497) m. Sir Nicholas Sidney (b. 1447 - d. 1512)
- Sir William Sidney (b. 1482 - ) m. Anne Pakenham, Lady Sidney (b. 1485 - )
- Sir William Brandon (b. 1456 - d. 22 Aug 1485) m. Elizabeth Bruyn, Lady Brandon (b. 1448 - d. 7 March 1494)
- Anne Brandon, Lady Carew (b. 1480 - ) m. Sir Gawain Carew (b. 1503 - )
- Charles Brandon, 1st Duke of Suffolk (b. 1484 - ) m.a) Margaret Neville (b. 1466 - d. 31 Jan 1528) in 1506, annulled 7 Feb 1507; b). Anne Browne (b. 1490 - d. 1511) in 1508; c). Elizabeth Grey, 3rd Viscountess Lisle (b. 25 March 1505 - ) in 1519.
- b) Anne Brandon, Baroness Grey of Powys (b. 1507 - ) m. Edward Grey, 3rd Baron Grey of Powys (b. 1505) in 1525
- b) Mary Brandon, Baroness Mounteagle (b. 2 June 1510) m. Thomas Stanley, 2nd Baron Mounteagle (b. 1507 - ) in 1526
- William Stanley (b. 1528 - )
- Henry Brandon, 1st Earl of Lincoln (b. 6 April 1520)
- Frances Brandon (b. 14 May 1521 - )
- Eleanor Brandon (b. 17 Sept 1523 - )
- William Brandon (b. 30 Oct 1524 - )
- Charles Brandon (b. 2 June 1526 - )
- Muriel Brandon (b. 15 Sep 1528 - )
- Sir Thomas Brandon (b. 1464 - d. 22 Jan 1510) m. Anne Fiennes, Dowager Marchioness of Berkeley (b. 1470 - d. 10 Sep 1497)
- Sir Robert Brandon (b. 1470 - d. 1524) m. Katherine de la Zouche (b. 1475 - d. 1525)
- Anne Brandon, Lady Sidney (b. 1454 - d. 1497) m. Sir Nicholas Sidney (b. 1447 - d. 1512)
Book The Second: Catherine of Austria - The Spanish Princess
Book The Second: Catherine of Austria - The Spanish Princess
Chapter XXIII: December 1528 - March 1529
Whitehall Palace,
London,
December 1528
London,
December 1528
"What do you think?" asks Henry as two of his servants lead two large and fine chestnut stallions saddled with deep purple velvet with seams of golden adorned with the Tudor Rose into the courtyard.
Beth knows her father well - Henry likes getting new horses, and he knows these stallions must have been expensive, even on Beth's new allowance. While, officially, they are a gift for Henry, Beth has sent two. She has brought presents for a couple. Purple, the colour of royalty, and Beth knows it. She has sent presents expressly for a royal couple.
She has done well, Henry cannot deny it. Beth has truly shown that she is going to be an asset to the Royal family. Oh, she may be illegitimate - her mother's fault, not hers - but she's still his daughter. His smart, beautiful, clever daughter.
"They are beautiful," says Catherine in her thickly accented voice.
Henry chuckles. That, indeed, they are.
"They were sent ahead by my daughter as a gift," he informs his wife. "Beth had to return, briefly, to Buckden to arrange her household. She arrives back at Court tomorrow."
"Your daughter?"
"Yes," says Henry, turning to his new wife. "I have invited her for New Year. You don't mind, do you?"
"No," says Catherine, very much minding; Henry either doesn't notice or doesn't care as he strides over to the two stallions. Catherine's last meeting with the Duchess, on her arrival in England, did not go terribly well. She starts after Henry, reaching him a few strides later; he is stroking the long muzzles of one of the horses. "Of course I do not mind. Your Majesty must do as you will. But will we get along this time?"
"Wait and see," says Henry. "My daughter Elizabeth can be the sweetest of honey when she wants to be."
And as sharp as a dagger when she doesn't and Catherine knows it. Her stomach churns with worry all night; not even Henry coming to her bed can take her mind off the return of her step-daughter, of Henry's favourite child.
Catherine's stomach churns for the rest of the morning as well, until, at last: "My lords, the Duchess of Kendal!"
Silence falls at the herald’s announcement and the whole hall turns to the door, wondering whether the new Duchess will make a mistake.
But she doesn't. Elizabeth is the daughter of a King and she has his brains, his temper, she is him in a smaller, female form.
Joan to her left, Eleanor to her right, hands clasped together in front of them, the new Duchess, back straight, eyes wide and alight and staring ahead, Duchess's Coronet sitting in her elegantly styled hair, strides down the length of the hall, between all of the watching courtiers, and up to the throne where her father awaits.
She sweeps into a dazzlingly elegant curtsey, eyes down low. "Your Majesty."
Henry smiles - of all the entrances he's seen into court, that was perfect. He rises and holds out his hands for his daughter to take. "My beautiful daughter, Elizabeth," he greets. "Say hello to the Queen."
Beth doesn't miss a beat, not a single step out of place. She turns slightly, to address the new Queen at Henry's side, the new Queen who has risen from her own, smaller throne, a large smile gracing her face; she sinks into a deep, elegant, well practiced curtsey. "Your Majesty. My new Lady Mother."
Catherine smiles. Perhaps their somewhat frosty meeting was, in fact, just nerves?
She takes Elizabeth's hands in her own. "Nay," she says gently, tilting Elizabeth's face up to look at her, allowing her to rise. "You and I are cousins, are we not, Lady Kendal? That, for now, will do. You and I do not know one another well enough to truly call one another Mother and daughter, do we? We must rectify that." She leans forward to speak quietly to her. "I do hope my lack of acknowledgement on my arrival to England did not offend Your Grace?"
"Nay," says Beth. "I was nervous too. My words failed me that day. Very well, then, if not Mother, Cousin it shall be. I look forward to getting to know you better, Cousin."
And the breach between them is healed.
Beth smiles and then turns slightly back to Henry. "Thank you for my gifts. Your Majesty, as always, is more than generous."
Henry doesn't reply, but his smile is large and proud. He gestures for someone to approach and Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, approaches. Henry hands Beth off to him and he leads her away to her position in the room.
Henry watches her go.
That, he thinks. Was very nicely done. Well played, Beth.
*~*~*~*~*
Buckden Palace,
Buckden, Cambridgeshire, England,
January 1529
"My Lady, your new lady-in-waiting is here."Buckden Palace,
Buckden, Cambridgeshire, England,
January 1529
Beth gives a casual wave of her hand to Joan, acknowledging her with a nod of the head. It's a dismissal, but not a mean one. Joan chuckles, watching Beth who is utterly engrossed in her book - an Italian book given to her by her father for Christmas, one she has been unable to put down since receiving it; she has already started translating it into English as a gift for her father's birthday in June. She drops a curtsey and leaves, knowing that Beth's new lady-in-waiting, appointed by her father, is bound to ruffle feathers.
Striding into the hall, Joan greets the sullen, sharp glared, dark haired girl of ten years old, who's expression can be described as little but hatred.
"Welcome, Mistress Catherine," she says. "I am Joan Blanchard, chief lady-in-waiting to the Duchess of Kendal. In your duties here at Buckden Palace, you will answer to me. I, in turn, answer to the Duchess. However, if the Duchess asks you personally to do something, you answer her as well. Now, come, the Duchess will see you."
Joan turns on the heels of her feet and strides back into Beth's chambers, Catherine trotting behind her.
"My Lady, Mistress Catherine Blount."
It is only because she has known Beth for several years now that Joan is able to see the emotions flash across her lady's face - shock, concern, surprise, realisation - before she schools it, quick enough that young Catherine does not see, and rises to her feet from the window seat in her chambers.
She glances down at the young girl - despite being the same age, Catherine is a head shorter than she is - and cannot help but feel sorry for her. With her father attainted, her family is now destitute.
This is her family's punishment; serve those who they tried to destroy. Heavens, her father has been quick - Mountjoy was only executed a month ago!
"Mistress Catherine," she greets, holding out a hand for Catherine to kiss, which she does, albeit reluctantly and sullenly. "Welcome to Buckden Palace. I am sure you will soon find your place here. Joan, see that Catherine settles in - and where is dear Eleanor?"
"Here, My Lady," says Eleanor, entering, a letter on a tray before her. "News from Court. The King's seal is on it."
Beth takes the letter and opens it with the knife on the tray. Both Eleanor and Joan wait; Beth lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Fitzroy is alive," she says, looking up at both of them. "The fever broke and he ate. I must send him something as thanks for saving my life."
"Perhaps the furs the Spanish Ambassador gave you at Christmas?" suggested Joan.
"Good idea," says Beth. "I have no use for them. I can buy furs whenever we need them. Yes, Eleanor, can you see that they arrive at my half-brother's residence for when he returns?"
"Of course, My Lady," says Eleanor, curtseying. "Will the Duke be returning to Sherrif Hutton or Durham?"
"Durham House," says Beth, scanning the letter. "It is closer to Whitehall, so he will have to travel less. My father thinks it wise not to risk his health too much."
Eleanor nods, curtseys, and sweeps away in a flurry of blue dress and blonde curls.
"Now, Joan, tell me, would you take a look at this for me?" asks Beth, holding out a sheet of parchment. "The suggestions for my ladies. I have left things far too long in making a decision. I told father that I would have this finalised by Christmas."
Joan scans the page. "Lady Bryan?"
"You are young, Joan," she says. "We both are. We need someone to be in charge here until we are adults. Lady Bryan is old - incredibly old, I'm surprised she's not yet dead - and soon, I'll be able to appoint you, as an adult, truly to the position of head of my household. Lady Bryan will do until then. But you and Eleanor will be my chief ladies-in-waiting, I will assure you of that."
"Very well," says Joan. "What of the Grey girls?"
Now there is a question, Beth has to admit. Thanks to her Woodville great-grandmother, the widow of King Edward IV, she is related to the Greys and, thus, she is, somewhat, required to take at least one of them.
The question is... which one?
*~*~*~*~*
Greenwich Palace,
Greenwich, The Thames,
England
11 February 1529
Greenwich Palace,
Greenwich, The Thames,
England
11 February 1529
"Happy Birthday, Mama," says Edmund, greeting his mother with a kiss on the cheek.
Henry has thrown an enormous celebration for their mother this year and, while he often disagrees with Henry's spending, Edmund is smart enough to know why Henry has gone to such attention this year. In just a few short months it will be twenty years since their father perished, shuffling off his mortal coil, and leaving Henry as King.
And their mother has been somewhat melancholy since Christmas, so, this time, Edmund will say nothing to Henry.
He and Kate are not dancing - not yet; they have given the Court four dances already: the tall, broad-chested, handsome Prince and his blonde, buxom, beautiful bride - and Henry and Catherine currently take the floor.
He smiles and, with a nod from his mother, strides off to talk to the Earl of Oxford.
"Is it different for them?" asks Kate to her mother-in-law. "Men, I mean, to know when they are in love?" They both turn to glance at Edmund, then at the King. "Everything else seems different for them; I knew instantly, but I think Edmund did not fall in love with me until I provided him with Tilly. Edmund and I agreed to as many dances as needed tonight, for your night. I am sure I shall be back on the dance-floor soon."
"Have you regained your strength for a dance again so soon?" asks Edmund, returning to her side; he raises her hand and kisses it. Oh, he'd love to take Kate full on the mouth and kiss her deeply, passionately, but he knows that would result in him stripping her naked and taking her over the nearest surface, so a kiss to the hand will have to suffice, at least for now.
"I miss dancing with your father," admits Elizabeth, smiling sadly. "The very last time I danced was with him - at a celebration for my birthday. There were peacocks present, I believe! Real ones!" She chuckles sadly. "I suppose I miss everything about him, really."
"The two of you loved each other so very much," replies Edmund, eyebrows somewhat raised - he cannot remember the last time his mother spoke publicly of his late father. "It is a rarity, I have come to realise, and I got very lucky." He smiles and kisses Kate's hand again.
"That is not to say it was without its trials," Elizabeth assures him. "Your - your father and I faced many difficulties, indeed, what with my cousins vying for the throne and my aunt funding usurpers and our mothers fighting for control of the Court and us, but we overcame them. We made a decision, early on, to do so. Why do you think I never spoke out against your father, when he chopped off the head of my Warwick cousin, or fought my Lincoln cousin in battle, or arrested my sister's husband? Sometimes, love is not easy. But you agree to make it work. We chose to love each other every single day. It is a choice, dearest, one that is never too late to make. I think you and Kate have made the same choice." She turns to watch Henry and Catherine on the dance floor.
"Henry made that choice some time ago with Arthur's widow," says Edmund. "And now he has been scorned. I wonder if he and his new Catherine will make that choice?"
"Oh, I think so," says Kate. She smiles and lowers her voice somewhat. "Have you noticed? It's not only the King's waistline that's widening of late. The new Catherine is with child. If she gives him a living boy, he'll adore her for all time."
"Yes," agrees Elizabeth. "I remember the day Arthur was born. Henry couldn't be in the room, of course, but he was the first to be there when I delivered, something that continued for all of you. I may never be able to see your father again, I - I may wake every morning and... and touch the pillow where he used to lay his head. But knowing that the two of us made the choice to love and to do all that we could... well... I cannot tell you how much peace and comfort that brings to me."
Edmund smiles. "Well, I may not be Papa, Mama, but would you care to dance?"
He holds out a hand for her to take.
Elizabeth smiles. "You may not be your father," she says. "But you are the one most like him."
She takes her son's hand and lets him lead her onto the dance-floor.
The rest of the Court, Henry included, can only watch in surprise.
*~*~*~*~*
Ampthill Castle,
Ampthill, Bedfordshire, England
March 1529
Catherine's household is much reduced, consisting of just a few ladies-in-waiting, when Edmund arrives at Ampthill Castle.Ampthill Castle,
Ampthill, Bedfordshire, England
March 1529
"My Lord Somerset," says Catherine, sitting in a chair in front of a fireplace. She is sewing, a familiar sight for her in these lat few years. "What does the King desire of me now?"
"Nothing, Princess," he admits, settling himself in a chair opposite her. "I am merely here to inform you, on the King's behalf, of the pregnancy of your niece, the new Queen of England."
All around he hears the muttering of the few ladies-in-waiting remaining in Catherine's house. It is a sad sight, Catherine's large household cut down to merely seven ladies who are willing to face the King's wrath and keep serving the Dowager Princess: María de Salinas, Dowager Baroness Willoughby de Eresby; Elizabeth Scrope, Dowager Countess of Oxford; Mary Say, Countess of Essex; Maud Green, widow of Sir Thomas Parr; Lady Blanchard and her daughter Cordelia, and Margaret Percy, Countess of Cumberland, who's sister Mary is married to and carrying the child of Anne Boleyn's former betrothed, the Earl of Northumberland.
Catherine, for her part, steels herself well; it is only the slight quiver of her hand that gives away her despair, shock, confusion. It is, at least for her, the final confirmation: Henry is not coming back to her.
Edmund smiles, somewhat sadly. While he does not like Catherine very much, her lies have denied Henry a male heir for twenty years after all, it is not a sight he wishes to see her in. He rises and bows, leaving the room at a flick of Catherine's hand.
The smash of a goblet echoes behind him.
"Lady Parr," he greets, catching sight of one of Catherine's ladies, reading a letter in the hallway.
"Your Grace," she says, dropping into a curtsey.
He bids her rise, smiling. "From your daughter? The King told me that young Catherine has been recently married."
"She is," says Maud Parr, gesturing with the letter. "The King was very gracious to attend."
"There are those at court who would gossip that Catherine is my brother's daughter. Fear not," he adds, raising a hand as she opens her mouth to protest. "I am well aware that she is not. Henry was away in France at the time of your daughter's conception. But your late husband, Sir Thomas, was a friend of my brother, so he takes an interest in your children."
Maud smiles gently. "You may inform His Majesty, if you so desire, that my daughter is to be a mother by November. She is expecting - hence what I was reading." Maud frowns and glances across at Catherine's chambers. "My daughter has asked me to reside with her while she is with child; nerves, I should think, for a first time mother - add to that being the new Baroness Borough on the death of her father-in-law in the Sweat; it is much for a young girl to take on."
Edmund follows her gaze and smiles knowingly. "And you're concerned with how the Dowager Princess will receive your request to leave?"
"I am, Your Grace."
"Leave it with me," says Edmund. "I shall talk with Henry when I return to Court. You cannot ignore an official summons from the King, after all."
Maud curtseys and watches him go.
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One of my favourite Bridgerton scenes <3 very suitable for Henry and Liz ttl
Also congrats to Catherine of Austria. Now let’s see if she follows her namesake predecessor or is more succesful
I admit, I was rewatching Bridgerton and I couldn't resist adapting that for Henry VII and EOY. It seems just so... them, if that makes sense?
Well, the baby will be born in the next chapter, so you'll have to wait and see.
Anyone wanna nominate this for a turtledove in the early modern category? Then I'll second it heh <3
