Section CLVII - June 1524
Baynard's Castle, June 1524
“Queen Mary. Queen Mary,” Sir Henry Wyatt said softly, brushing Marie’s knuckles with his lips as he bowed over her hand. His eyes were soft, warm with an almost paternal pride, “I knew your father had grand plans for you all. He made that clear enough when he sent you to France and Annie to the Archduchess Margaret, but I don’t think even he dreamed of this. How things have changed since you and George were running through the fields at Allington with Tom and Peggy, little Annie toddling behind, calling to you to wait for her.”
“Little Annie, as you call her, is Lady Lancaster now,” Marie chided, though her voice was sweet with suppressed laughter, as she waved Sir Henry to a seat and motioned to Joanna, “I’d have had her here to greet you, but I’m afraid I’ve sent her and Lord Lancaster north to get to know their new estates. But she’ll be gratified to know you remembered her. She must have been little older than six when you last saw her, after all.”
“I’m sure she’s grown into quite a beauty. The Boleyn girls always do,” Sir Henry smiled and Marie’s cheeks tinted pink,
“That’s kind of you to say, Uncle Henry, although I am not sure it is always as true as the ambassadors would have me believe.” She paused, “I can still call you ‘Uncle Henry, can’t I?”
“Of course, Your Grace. I’d be honoured,” Sir Henry dipped his head and Marie smiled briefly.
“Anne’s a mother now, I’ll have you know. Her daughter is a Margaret too, although they call her Maggie. And I’m afraid she named her for the Duchess of Alencon, not your Peggy! Now, you’ll take some wine, won’t you? Or would you rather have mead? I seem to remember you being rather fond of that drink when you came to dine with Papa in the summers.”
“You have a good memory, My Lady. Mead would be wonderful, thank you.”
Sir Henry reached for the cup Joanna handed him, and Marie took a draught of her own, before nodding and waving Joanna away. When she turned back to Sir Henry, her lips tightened just a fraction.
“I didn’t bring you here to talk of Anne’s children, however. I’m sure you’re only too aware that while the King and I have kept the children with us for several months so that we could celebrate Easter, May Day and His Majesty’s birthday together as a family, Their Highnesses will be returning to Eltham at the end of the month. I know the King has spoken to you of the fact that he would like you to accompany them and take up the position of Prince Lionel’s governor. I would like to add my own urging to that. It would give me great pleasure to see my son in your charge."
“And it would give me great pleasure to have the Prince entrusted to me,” Sir Henry hurried to assure her. Marie raised a hand in acknowledgement.
“I’m pleased to hear you say it, Uncle Henry. However, there is one matter I need to discuss with you first. You would not just be taking care of the Prince. Lady Bryan and Lady Salisbury have been raising Lord Richmond alongside the royal children since his mother’s… demise. I expect you to follow suit.”
The speed at which Sir Henry purpled would have been amusing, Marie thought, had the matter not been one of such import. The older man spluttered spectacularly, and had to take several seconds to recover before he could speak again.
“You want me to raise a bastard? And a madwoman’s bastard at that? Alongside the most precious boy in the Kingdom? Your Grace…”
“I want you to raise the King’s son.” Marie cut him off. Leaving that to sink in for a moment, she leaned across and placed a hand on his arm, “Lady Tailboys was a madwoman, you’re right. And while nobody has told me the exact details of how she died, I’ve pieced together enough from the rumours to know it wasn’t pretty. If nothing else, my husband is a man of war. If her death was enough to turn even his stomach, well…then I’m not sure I want to know any more than I already do. But Lord Richmond is not his mother. He’s an innocent child, who got caught up in her schemes simply because of the blood that ran through his veins. Lady Tailboys was raising him to be a threat to Prince Lionel, but now we have a chance to make things right. We have a chance to raise the boys as friends rather than rivals. And I would like to think, Uncle Henry, that you are too good a man to blame a child for the sins of his mother. That you are too loyal a subject to the King to allow any child in your care to become a lightning rod for the disaffected in the realm.”
There was a beat of silence. Marie locked eyes with the older man, forcing him to meet her keen gaze. She had never looked so like her younger sister – or her father – than she did in those few moments.
“Am I right?” She said at last.
Sir Henry nodded slowly, realising as he did so the import of the moment, “You are, Your Grace.”
“So will you do it? Will you give me your word that you will raise the boys together, as fairly as you can, as befits their respective status?”
Marie didn’t say, as she waited for Sir Henry’s response, that if he refused, she’d go to Henry and ask him to choose another governor for Lionel. She didn’t need to. It was there in the fire in her eyes, in the iron poker in her spine. Sir Henry knew better than to refuse the Queen who had the King eating out of the palm of her hand.
“I give you my word, Madam. Queen Mary.”
“Good.” Marie leaned back in her seat, her face lighting up in a smile as the tension left her shoulders, “Then let’s go and visit the nursery so that you can meet your new charges. Come.”
So saying, she pushed herself to her feet, waving away Sir Henry’s proffered hand, and clapped her hands for her ladies to form up around them.
Sir Henry watched her do it, admiration warring with shock inside him. When had the sweet-natured girl he remembered become such an effortlessly regal Queen?
