The Queen is Dead!: Katherine of Aragon dies in 1518

Having looked more into Saint Brigid, she is also the patron saint of Clan Douglas, the clan that Margaret Douglas hails from.
It would be nice for Margaret and Jacquetta to have a strong bond through this connection.
 
Having looked more into Saint Brigid, she is also the patron saint of Clan Douglas, the clan that Margaret Douglas hails from.
It would be nice for Margaret and Jacquetta to have a strong bond through this connection.
Well, I expect Maria will expect her old companions to watch over her little brothers and sisters once she's no longer around to do it, so I could see that.
 
It's nice to see that Henry helped Margaret, and that Princess Catherine will be Queen of Scots one day(which may stick in their craw since her namesake organized the army that killed their king) Hopefully Catherine Parr enjoys a longer and happier life here.. I also hope that Katherine and George have a living child this time around as well and maybe George's old man will drop dead soon... Excelllent chapter!
 
It's nice to see that Henry helped Margaret, and that Princess Catherine will be Queen of Scots one day(which may stick in their craw since her namesake organized the army that killed their king) Hopefully Catherine Parr enjoys a longer and happier life here.. I also hope that Katherine and George have a living child this time around as well and maybe George's old man will drop dead soon... Excelllent chapter!
I didn't think of the fact that Caitlin's namesake being Katherine of Aragon would be a problem for her as Queen of Scots, but you're right, it probably would be. And yes, I have had Marie and Henry nickname their middle daughter - counting Maria - Caitlin for Katharine. I realise it's not particularly of the period, but it means angel and it was just too pretty not to use, especially given the various spellings of Katharine that were around in the era.

As for your other comments, well...spoilers. ;)
 
Section CLXIX - June 1527
Raglan, June 1527

“Lord Pembroke, you have a daughter.”

George spun round at the words, his heart catching in his throat.

“A…a daughter?” he croaked, scarcely daring to breathe.

It wasn’t that he and Kathy hadn’t intended to have a big family, but six years into their marriage, Edmund remained their only child. Kathy had miscarried early in her second pregnancy only a couple of weeks after Marie had given birth to her miracle triplets – indeed, the physicians had told them to blame that miscarriage on the stress of having to tend the fractious Marie in her confinement and then dance attendance at the endless festivities than followed.

George had never told his older sister that, of course. She’d only have blamed herself, and what was the point in that? She couldn’t have been expected to know. Indeed, Kathy’s miscarriage had been so early that no one had even known Kathy had been carrying at all, save themselves and perhaps Kathy’s maids, who would have noticed the lack of bloody clouts to wash each month.

The other miscarriages, in September 1525 and May 1526, had been harder to hide, particularly the September one. Kathy had been further along, and the emotional toll of the disappointed hope had been even more crushing than the first one.

The situation had not been helped, of course, by his father writing ever increasingly pointed notes from Dublin, hinting that a single son might not be enough to secure the Boleyn legacy and when on earth would George see to doing his duty and providing Edmund with a baby brother?

By the time Kathy confided in him that she was pregnant for a fifth time, George had begun to lose hope that they ever would. He might be naturally optimistic, but three miscarriages in as many years had sapped him of much of that buoyancy. He’d scarcely been able to bear watching as Kathy swelled, yet again, with his child. He’d spent what felt like most of the six months between Kathy whispering the news in his ear and the midwife’s appearance at his door on his knees in the chapel at Raglan, pleading with God to spare them the disappointment this time, to stop being so cruel as to taint their lives with false hope.

He’d never quite believed that his prayers might actually have an effect. Not until the faint screaming in the halls above had stopped and the midwife had appeared at his door.

The portly woman nodded, “Aye, Lord Pembroke, a bonny little lassie. And a hungry one she is too. She came out screaming for the breast and never stopped until we let her latch.”

George felt his jaw drop. Without quite realising what he was going to do before he did it, he caught the midwife in his arms and kissed her full on the mouth.

“Mistress Owen, you’re as welcome here as the Angel Gabriel!” He bellowed, before releasing her and whirling for the door.

He galloped up the stairs two at a time and crashed through the door, startling Kathy and the wet-nurse, though not, he was amused to see, his as yet nameless daughter, who seemed to respond to his rude entrance by suckling all the harder as her wet-nurse yelped and scrambled for a wrap to preserve her modesty.

George paid the buxom woman no heed, tumbling to his knees beside Kathy’s bed and snatching up her hand to kiss it fervently.

He couldn’t speak. He didn’t need to speak. The way Kathy’s free hand gripped his dark curls as she ran her fingers through his hair told him well enough that she knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking it too.

“Matilda,” she whispered huskily, and he glanced up at her, a silent question in his eyes.

“Matilda,” she repeated, “Our daughter’s a warrior. She’s proved that by living where her siblings have died in the womb. So, let’s name her for a warrior’s Queen. Let’s name her Matilda.”

No sooner had George understood what Kathy meant than the name seemed so perfect for their little girl that he couldn’t think of any other. He glanced over to where the wet-nurse still perched on the window seat, seeming to sway slightly with the force of their daughter’s hunger, before looking back at Kathy, nodding.

“Lady Matilda Boleyn. Lady Matilda of Pembroke. It’s perfect, love.”

Then he rose and kissed her properly, holding her silently in his arms until, exhausted from the birth, she had drifted off to sleep.
 
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Oh, finally... another living child for Edmund and Kathy... great for them...
Well, I did promise their family wasn't complete. Plus, this generation needs at least one Boleyn girl. 😉

I'm glad to see that Kathy and George were able to have another child, hopefully little Matilda lives a full and happy life. Great chapter!
I always planned for them to have at least one son and one daughter. I just wasn't sure how they got there to begin with.

Long live little Matilda!
That's what Kathy and George are thinking too!

Matilda- French meaning Strong in war, Stength for battle
Matilda- German meaning might, power

All in all a good choice @FalconHonour
I didn't think of the name meaning, I was just thinking of Queen Matilda, the Conqueror's wife... But the meaning suits the matter too. :)
 
Really?! I thought that you were thinking of Empress Matilda when you named her? But she could be named for both I guess :) It’s a good name in any case.
I love Empress Matilda, but she's possibly not the best namesake for a girl related to royalty, being a major player in one of England's civil wars. Queen Matilda (of which there have been at least two), on the other hand....
 
I love Empress Matilda, but she's possibly not the best namesake for a girl related to royalty, being a major player in one of England's civil wars. Queen Matilda (of which there have been at least two), on the other hand....
She was, however, the matriarch of the great Plantagenet dynasty. That must count for something too ;)
 
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