“What are we going to do about the Staffords?” Henry sighed, glancing up at Marie, who sat next to him, sewing. It was a peacefully domestic moment, one of the kind they rarely got to share, and he was loath to ruin it by talking about the Staffords, but he knew he had to. It was her they’d tried to poison, her sister they had poisoned. She had every right to help him decide on their punishment.
She looked up at him, her usually soft eyes as cold as a January frost.
“Buckingham has to die. For what he tried to do to me; for what he managed to do to my sister. How can you even ask me that?”
“I know, I know,” Henry hastened to reassure her, placating her unusual fit of temper before it could even get off the ground. Pushing back his chair, he opened his arms to invite her on to his lap, seeing her settled there before he continued, “It wasn’t Buckingham I was thinking of. He’ll die for his crimes, I promise you. He’ll die the day we have this boy christened.” He placed a hand on Marie’s bulging stomach, smiling, before he went on, “I was thinking of his daughter. Lady Katherine.”
“Kathy?” Marie’s voice was non-committal, “Why were you thinking about her?”
“She told us of her father’s crimes. I promised her she’d not be hurt. We can’t allow her to go down with her father, the way the rest of her siblings will.”
For a moment, Henry felt Marie remain stiff in his arms, as she mulled over what he’d said. Then she suddenly slumped against him.
“You’re right. Of course you’re right, Henry. Kathy shouldn’t pay for her father’s crimes. I just don’t know what to do with her.
“Neither do I,” Henry confessed. The two of them sat in silence for a while, staring into the fire.
Marie was the one to break it.
“What about marrying her to my brother?”
“George?” Henry couldn’t help but be surprised. Nor could he hide his surprise, “Surely you want better for him than a traitor’s daughter?”
“I want to know this boy will be safe. Lady Katherine is a Stafford just as much as her father is. Anyone who marries her, marries her bloodline.”
Marie’s voice may have calmed a little, but it was still harsher than normal. Henry didn’t want to upset her, not when she was with child, so he began to give the idea brief consideration...only to find that he actually quite liked it after all. George was a good lad. And he’d be an Earl one day. If young Katherine married him, no one could say the royals hadn’t been more than generous to her, given her father’s actions. And Marie was right. Bad blood would out. Katherine might be innocent and loyal now, but who’s to say she’d be like that in ten years, unless they curbed her now? And the Boleyns would do that. George and Thomas between them would do it. They’d never move against the throne, not even if Lady Katherine wanted them to. Not when it meant moving against their daughter. Their sister.
“It’s not a bad idea,” he murmured, and Marie looked at him, her eyes suddenly alight for the first time since her sister had been taken ill.
“Does that mean you’ll agree? Agree to them marrying?”
Faced with her blazing smile, Henry could do nothing more than nod.
“And we’ll give Dr Linacre a knighthood for saving your sister’s life, shall we?” he suggested.
Marie gasped, “Henry!”
He chuckled, “I take it the idea pleases you, sweetheart?”
At her eager nod – a nod that reminded him how young she still was – he laughed out loud and pulled her in for a fervent kiss.