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Chapter Text

You think you know a story but you only know how it ends…and then something comes along and changes the story somewhat.

Or maybe it does not. Sometimes somethings cannot change the course of one’s fate.

But they can add to it.

In the case of Anne Boleyn the little girl from Kent it add to it. In spades.

Fate had no idea what to do about Anne Boleyn, the woman determined to go down in history as the most ambitions woman imaginable. Fate knew what to make of her sister Mary a year younger. Mary Boleyn was a royal mistress turned mother of two bastards. Mary Boleyn was the most merry whore imaginable. That was the best that a family could do with a King like Henry VIII as he grew more and more aware of the realities of not having a son.

But Elizabeth Howard-Boleyn’s childbed journey was supposed to stop there. George the eldest, Anne the most famous and Mary the most fair. She was not supposed to have another child after that.

And yet there had been one.

A baby girl born on the coldest night in winter tumbling out of her mother as easy as she had been put there—well—considering Thomas Boleyn and his wife could not stand each other that was by the by but the point of the matter was that there was another Boleyn girl in the cradle.

Thomas Boleyn hid his disappointment as best a man in his situation could. Boys were a rare commodity—even the King could not keep one but he did comfort himself with the knowledge that daughters too could prove useful, he wanted to climb the social ladder and one had to admit that another daughter was not the worst that could happen.

And at least the little mite was fair like Mary…Anne was dark and mysterious, Mary as fair as milk and honey but this girl had big blue eyes and a dark hue of blonde hair on her head that would go a shade darker from Mary’s honeyed looks so that she would look like burnt sunshine.

They decided to call the little mite Elizabeth after her mother who soon perished from her own travails in childbed and Thomas let the maids and his servants raise his four children until it was time for them to go to court. Mary and Anne and then later Beth as she was known were all shipped off to France and George he sent to court to learn his trade at his side.

And that is when our story starts. When the King of England comes to France and the three Boleyn girls are all there.

So to speak.

Elizabeth Boleyn known commonly to her friends and two sisters as Beth swore in Latin. Anne sat writing away at her desk smothered a giggle and then turned the page.

“What is wrong?”

“I cannot get this damn lace done. Can you help?”

 Anne nodded and turned putting down her quill to help her tighten the dress. It was an old one—three sisters with three years between them and they tended to share clothes but Mary was decidedly more plumper and Anne had no chest at the moment and so Beth had to tug and pull here and there to get things to fit her. The green and gold gown fell to the floor but it slid off her shoulders and she sighed looking at herself in the mirror. With her blonde hair loose tied back with the odd strings of gold she thought she looked respectable enough for tonight though knowing her father there would inevitably be some kind of problem developing.

She had not seen her father in eighteen months. The man’s visits were few and far between and when he did come it was usually for an afternoon and he would rake his gaze over the three of them, usually tell them what they were doing wrong and then disappear again. Out of both of her parents one dead and the other a stranger Beth thought she was an orphan already. Indeed Anne had done most of the raising of her sisters. Anne who was fearless and who acted as such, who flirted like she breathed and Mary who fell in love every second she got. Beth had no such time for frivolities.

Well…she would not if there was actually something to do. The court of France was a letch’s court on a good day. It was clear that King Francis married as he was had set a goal of working his way through all his wife’s ladies in waiting before he died. Already he had, had Mary.

“There you go” Anne said quietly and then she rested her head on her shoulder looking at herself in the mirror her head near Beth’s. Beth followed. A looking glass was a new and expensive thing that was coveted by the maids more than food was and she knew that you could buy a good horse with the price of the one Mary had somehow got. She looked at the two of them in the mirror and their contradicting good looks and then she smiled her bright smile and Anne smiled her dark one.

“Looks good” Anne said patting her on the hip. “Father should be impressed”

“You are making a huge assumption we are too see him during the course of this trip”

“George then”

“Anne you making a huge assumption that George wants to see us.” Beth said smiling as she turned to pick up her rosewater. She sprayed herself and then nodded.

“Shall we go?”

“Well waiting for Mary does not become up”

“Please…she’s gone to see the King”

“She sees him every night as it is what more does she want?”

“Not that one…the other one…Henry”

Beth rolled her eyes. Anne giggled and with that they linked arms and left their chambers to the tents that were scattered all across the Field of Cloth of Gold named by Cardinal Wolsey the second in command to King Henry VIII of England and a man that their father utterly despised.

The entire camp was alive that night after dinner. A wrestling match that had supposed to end in friendly peace terms had ended with rows and recriminations. Beth had not seen much of this King since she had spent most of her childhood in France and she did not think much of him at first glance. To be fair she did not think much of Francis either so maybe it was that she was hard to impress. She did think that the Queen looked as miserable as sin.

She had muttered this aside to Anne in rapid French and got a giggle for  her trouble. Anne did not hold much opinion with Catherine of Aragon but Beth would concede that she too might struggle if she’d had five children and only one of them had gotten to six. Even in France they had heard about the little bastard Henry Fitzroy.

She could not deny though that the King had surrounded himself with very attractive attendants. She had to concede that the men around him were very attractive, the picture of viral strength in a brutish way that the average dandy skipping around the French court could not compete with. Francis was as vein as peacock but so was Henry VIII so maybe that was a personality trait only inherited by Kings…and Boleyn’s.

They found Mary talking in her rapid French with the other ladies and Beth went to find a glass of wine when she felt a hand sneak around her waist.

“Good evening”

English.

She turned around to see a blonde haired man with curly hair and eyes that she did not trust winking at her. He had the aura of a man accustomed to getting what he wanted which amused her somewhat because Elizabeth Boleyn was not the type of woman to give a type of man like this what he wanted.

“Good evening” she replied back taking a sip of wine.

“Now what is a fine flower like you doing in this dung heap?”

She nearly spat out the wine.

“Really?” she said flatly. “That is the trick you use? Two of these ladies are my sisters”

Clearly he had not expected that but there was another short bark of laughter and she turned to see another man standing there watching. Her breath caught in her throat suddenly and she felt oddly lightheaded.

He was achingly, stunningly handsome. Curly brown hair and brown eyes and a strong jawline she had a sudden and very irrational urge to rub the palm of her hand down. He caught her looking and bowed a lot more steadier than the man holding her waist and she quirked a smile and met his gaze straight on with that challenge that only a Boleyn woman could give.

“What good Sir is a flower like you doing in this dung heap?”

He laughed and it was like warm music to her ears.

“Very pretty” he said warmly. “William I do believe that the maid does not want you here, perhaps you should go and assist Brandon. Make sure he has not fallen head first into a vat of wine”

There was a pause and then.

“No, I will find something to amuse myself with” William said with a bow and then he was gone. Beth turned and poured the most attractive man in the world a goblet of wine.

“I thank you Sire” she said passing it to him. “For your most generous attention”

“The pleasure is all mine my Lady. My name is Knivert. Anthony Knivert”

“My name is Elizabeth Boleyn, but you may if you so wish call me Beth”

“Beth Boleyn…are you in at all in any relation to Sir Thomas Boleyn?”

“He is my father”

There was a flicker of wry amusement as if what he had said had amused him somewhat and she tilted her head to the side letting her gold curls shift as she looked at him.

“What?”

“Nothing”

“Clearly not nothing” she said quietly. “You do not like him?”

 “He’s…Sir Thomas Boleyn” he said smiling. “Very much admired for his new ways by all except for the Duke of Buckingham”

“I see” she said though there was a very good chance that she was seeing wrong. “You can trace your line back to the Plantagenets can you?”

He laughed.

“Oh no” he said eyes very warm. “I have my title because I am good at the joust.”

“Not a bad skill if it gets you a knighthood Sir Anthony”

“No…Mistress Beth”

“Not for long” she said prickled by his obviously insulting tone.

“Oh?”

“A woman does not marry a man to remain Mistress for the rest of her life”

“And what would you like to be?”

Beth shot him her most  innocent look.

“Not Lady Knivert if you are asking” she said and then she put down her mug and curtsied so low that she could practically be bending to suck his cock and then she stood up and walked away to Anne who was watching with an amused look, Mary at her shoulder and both of them brimming clearly with news.

“Do I even want to know?” Anne said linking her arm.

“No”

“Anthony Knivert is high up in the King’s inner circle Beth” Mary said in that tone she used when it was clear that she was trying to inform people on things she thought newsworthy.

“You could do worse”

“I do not intend to do anything” Beth said flatly. “And certainly not with that presumptuous bastard”

Both her sisters laughed and she turned to see that he had gone. She did not know if that made it better or worse but she felt unsettled and odd…like she had drank too much wine or engaged in eating too many sweetmeats. She sighed.

He had been a charming man. Pity he was just so arrogant.

“Father says the King noticed me at dinner!” Mary said beaming. Anne rolled her eyes but she smiled that slow smile. Beth nodded. It was clear that Mary had been dying to tell someone that but Beth did not see how it was fortunate to go from being the King of France’s favourite whore to being the King of England’s except one country had their father in it and one did not.

“What does father say?” she asked dryly.

“Oh he thought it was wonderful”

Anne raised another eyebrow but said nothing.

“Where is he?” she said instead.

“Outside” Mary said tugging at both of their hands. “Oh be happy for me both of you. Imagine the riches that we could gain…and George, you know Father has so many plans for George”

That was true.

“Where is George?”

“Where do you think” Anne said flatly. “Where every young man is at this moment in time, in between an English woman’s legs or a French woman’s’”

“Anne! Must you be so crass”

Anne sighed as if she thought that this conversation and everything else was beneath her. Beth sighed and then.

“Oh God”

“What?”

As one the three of them looked. Dressed in black, dripping with curls with a feather hanging from his hat and an expression as dour as milk was their father.

“Here we go” Anne muttered and as one the three Boleyn sisters dropped into deep curtsies as they waited to see what their father (and indeed fate) had in store for them.

Chapter Text

Their father had them back within the confines of the English court by the end of the year. It took time to release them from the French Queen and time to get them pressed into the service of the English one who was not stupid despite the way that Wolsey seemed to think that she was. Beth had only seen Catherine of Aragon once at the banquet but she knew that she was a dignified woman who clung to her dignity in the way that Anne would cling to her ambition and Beth would cling to her pride. Mary on the other hand…well…Mary would cling to love before all else.

So they waited.

They waited at Hever with Anne going mad with the lack of something to do and Beth spending all her time outdoors. She was not an outdoor person either but she found that she liked Hever, she liked the sprawling grounds of her country house and she found that she liked to spend time on her horse. So much of France was still bathed in the poverty Joan of Arc had tried to raise it from that travelling outside of Paris was dangerous for a woman on horseback, even communication with the English had, had to be done at Calais.

Anne sometimes came out with her but she was still seething with envy that Mary was to go to court and she was not. The reason behind such a thing was made clear when Anne got a letter from George that said that Mary was now the mistress of the King of England and God only knows who else.

“Like France all over again” Anne said dismissively as she pushed the letter at Beth. They were in the great knot garden their mother had put in place and Beth was dipping her fingers in the cool pool as the heat of summer mercifully beat down on them. There was no plague yet.

This was a good summer.

“She’s doing it with father’s permission this time” Beth said shifting so the golden hair was loose down her back. She had been thinking of court and she knew that soon one way or the other they would go and she was not sure if she liked it. Her father might enjoy the idea of having his daughter fuck the king (and God only knows who else) but Beth had seen the coolness between the Queen and Bessie Blount and she did not want that for Mary, Anne or herself. Despite what George was writing he was always going to be guaranteed a good marriage and an easy court life.

Beth did not need Anne to tell her that woman did not have that luxury.

“Heaven thanks us for that”

“Hmm”

Anne sighed and then kicked a rock into the pond.

“I don’t get it” she said quietly. “I never got it the first time that she did it, I don’t get it now. I don’t get why a parent would like his daughter to whore herself for a King and I do not understand why a woman like Mary—”

“Mary is not you, she loves the man and with the man comes the cock, you love the cock and with it you expect the Crown”

Anne shrugged taking the point. “Maybe I do. And don’t be vulgar. He’s a good King I’ll grant you but the intention of all of this is for the Lords to band together to get rid of Wolsey and Mary is so not the woman to whisper poison in his ear”

“What makes you think—”

“Elizabeth use your brain and stop thinking of Knivert! Of course father wants Wolsey out the way, of course the great men of the Kingdom want him gone! Wolsey runs the kingdom and Wolsey is no more than the son of a butcher”

“And we were no more the great granddaughters of merchants—”

“And those merchants became Mayor of London and when they became Mayor of London they gave us this place and father was allowed to marry a Howard and Uncle can trace his mother back to the Plantagenets and that is no small thing. Wolsey has to go and George makes it clear here that father is the man to make him go or at least he would be if the entire court was not terrified of Buckingham and whatever madness is coming next”

“Buckingham wants to be King”

“Everybody wants to be King, Buckingham’s just got the bloodlines to do it and the stupidity to speak the desire out loud”

Elizabeth wanted to ask if there was not some truth to the rumour that the Plantagenets had ruled for three hundred years and had managed to create a loss less damage than the Tudors had done in thirty but knowing Anne that would lead to a lecture on the history of the Royal Family in England and she was not sure she wanted that now.

And besides…

“I am not thinking of Anthony Knivert”

“You should, he’s high up in the King’s favour recently knighted and owns a good amount of land in the country. For you that’s a good match.”

“For me?”

“Third daughter”

“Why thank you Anne”

Anne shot her a grin and then.

“Speak to father about him if you want, father likes you”

“He likes you Anne, he tolerates everyone else”

“Perhaps” Anne said smugly. “But if one of us is fucking the king then the other one can be married to his best friend and then he can turn his attention to me. I want to be nothing less than a Duchess”

Beth looked at her and smiled.

“Dream on Anne” she said quietly.

But Anne was not listening.

The day Buckingham was executed, the last really royal Duke of England she received a note from her father her to join the court at Whitehall. There was still no mention of Anne who let out a string of swear words and stomped off. Considering that she had the local poet Thomas Wyatt twirling around her fingertips Beth knew that her sister would find someone to dance around with. For all she loved her siblings she knew realistically she was the only virgin.

What that said of her father’s parenting she really could not think…actually she did not think that her father would mind providing that he could get involvement out of the thing.

Court was a glittering glamours kind of place that shone of opulence and wealth and dripped with the scandal that Charles Brandon had married the King of England’s sister.

Her father was waiting for her when she arrived and she was fresh from travel, dressed in her gown of green and her blonde hair down her back she knew she was attracting attention. Already the Spanish Ambassador Mendoza had looked twice at her…though that could have been at her father too.

“Daughter”

“Father”

He took her arm and paraded her almost around the court.

“I was sorry to not see Anne with you but I am working on getting her a place at court. The Queen does not much like the Boylen name at the moment, Mary is still very much involved in the King’s bed and I intend to keep her there, already there has been some advancement. And you have been asked about”

Beth nearly tripped on her gown.

“By whom Father?”

“Lord Knivert”

“I thought he was just a knight?”

“No, he gave Brandon his Dukedom and Knivert a Lordship in the process. I do not understand why but the man now owns half of the North of England for which I do not understand. Northumberland is in uproar and your Uncle Norfolk not much better. I would mind too but to have you married to a man so close to the King’s side is beneficial to the family”

He turned and Beth felt that complicated little press of power that came with her father and his gaze, there was always a sense of terror there that over masked what she assumed was love but was never really sure. She did not know if the man possessed a loving bone in his body. Maybe with Anne who out of all of his children was the one who looked and acted the most like him, maybe George his one heir…but certainly not her and certainly not Mary.

“So I am to marry Lord Knivert?”

“I thought so. We’ll wrap it up as soon as Anne arrives at court make it a family thing…we might even get the King in attendance and then you can run the North, Mary can stay where she is and I might look higher for Anne. Percy is an open book and if I can get rid of the Talbert connection…” he trailed off looking around and she knew that she had lost him so she cursed under her breath dropping a curtsey and he waved his hand and dismissed her the same way one would dismiss a dog.

“So we meet at last Lady Boleyn?”

 “You know damn well my name is not Lady Boleyn, Lord Knivert”

He laughed at her and she did smile back. One could not deny that he was achingly handsome and young. He was a strapping husband and she found that she wanted him suddenly in her bed with an ache that made her want to behave…rather reckless.

“Why did you want to marry me?” she asked tilting her head to the side and letting some of her hair fall over her shoulder.

“Why not? I do not like your father but one cannot deny he is loyal to the King, Wolsey disapproves of the match which is a bonus…were you expecting anything else?”

“I don’t know” she said easily “That you found I was beautiful perhaps?”

“I thought that was a given” he said easily. “Of course I could pander to your expectations and tell you the truth…that you have consumed my thoughts since I last saw you but then that would be rather easy of me would it not?”

“Depends” she said not allowing herself to get into the delicious flirtation even though her cheeks were pink.

“On what?”

“On what I was being asked?”

He smiled at her for a second and then there was the sound of footsteps and he swore.

“Fuck. Chapuys”

“Who?”

“Spanish Ambassador, follow me”

And with that he took her hand and dragged her through the bushes and the maze until they were so lost that there was nobody would could find them.

“Well done”

“Don’t look like that darling I know my way out, I’ve been the sober one in his maze too many times when Charles and Henry have been drunk”

She did not know what to say to that but he sat down on the bench and groaned.

“Bad night?”

“Charles has been banished from court”

“Price to pay for marrying the King’s sister?”

Anthony Knivert laughed and leaned back on his elbows.

“I agree” he said easily. “Thank God I am marrying you”

“I don’t know how you got my father to agree to it”

“I asked” he said drawling out the word. “But you have not said if you are happy with it”

“You care?”

“Darling if you are going to be my wife then I should mention that I care about your opinions a great deal.”

She giggled maybe it was not love.

Okay maybe it was not love but she knew lust at first sight, this was flirtation, two very young people who liked each other, she was sixteen, he was twenty three. Worst marriages she reckoned had been met and so she reached out and very gently moved her skirts so she was sat on his lap.

“I am very happy about it” she said her hand stroking up and down his cropped hair. His eyes were very blue.

“Wonderful” he said easily. “I am very happy too”

“If you are looking for Mary I am not that skilled”

“Oh darling, I reckon I can teach you how to be skilled”

She opened her mouth to ask him just what the hell he was on about but he surged upwards and took her mouth in his own and kissed her and she melted like sugar in a sauce pot at the very touch of him.

His hands slid down her waist and pushed her closer to him and she felt his hardness pressing into her belly through the rich crush of fabric from her gown. She melted into his touch as his hands smoothed down her body.

“I will be a good husband” he said to her quietly. “And I got the best of the Boleyn girls I think. And we will be happy.”

She smiled as they broke apart but she could not help the shiver that ran though her at that…she did not know why but it sent a slither of fear through her, the thought of being happy with him.

There was the sound of footsteps and immediately they broke apart and managed to look like a respectable couple discussing their marriage when William Compton and the King came across them Mary trailing behind her eyes symbolising that she was board with the conversation whatever it was.

“Mistress Boleyn, Anthony”

“Your Majesty”

“Mistress Boleyn we wish you great joy on your marriage”

“Your Majesty is very kind”

He nodded and his eyes slid past her and so they joined the walking part. Her mouth felt bruised from the kiss and she allowed herself to smile. Elizabeth Knivert. Lady Knivert. Maybe Her Grace the Duchess once day…yes….that was not nothing, certainly not nothing to turn her nose up at.

She knew too that back at Hever, Anne would agree.

Chapter Text

Anne was to come to court for the wedding and then to stay. Elizabeth was to return to Anthony’s new manor house in Derbyshire but she suspected even if her future husband did not, that soon they would be back at the King’s side. Mary had given birth to a daughter to be named Catherine and there was no point in hiding that the girl was the daughter of the King. Everyone knew even the Queen and though she seemed to regard the three Boleyn girls as if they were whores personified Beth could not help but admire her. She was not sure what she would do personally if she found out that her husband had numerous bastards to hand with her maids but she did not think dignified silence would be the way to go. Somehow she did not think dignified silence was a Boleyn trait.

There was a sense of closure though. She liked court but sometimes it was so loud and mad and bad that it was nice to think of the idea of retiring to the country for a while. She liked Anthony—she always had and she knew that he liked her and she was sixteen. The idea of marriage—of marrying before Anne did as well—always a nice idea.

The night before her wedding the four of them were together. George slipped in though the double doors of the Queen’s chamber to Mary’s private rooms as gift to the King and the three of them were there waiting Anne and Elizabeth having slipped out and they shared food and wine and played cards while the rest of the court slept not knowing that the four of them, the Boylen’s were in the room playing games and drinking the night before her wedding.

“I think at the very least you have lucked out” George said flatly. “Knivert is a good man who will treat you well. Carey has thrown Mary here to the King and the woman father wants me to marry…” he shook his head in disgust. “Jane Parker” he said again. “I don’t know what has possessed him to make such a match she is as sincere as a blanched snake”

“She’s got an excellent dowry, father is high up in the King’s favour and she’s a favourite of the Queen” Anne said with her prefect memory. She kicked George with her foot in their own little mock play and smiled at him.

“At least your being considered for a marriage. I have heard nothing about me since that Irish thing fell through. Two sisters both younger than me and both married.”

“I think he might try and angle you upwards”

“Please”

There was a smirk to George’s expression that Beth did not like but she did not comment on it. While she loved her brother she had to admit there was an almost insidious quality about him. He resembled their father too much. She leaned back against the pillows and eyed her two sisters. She did not want to say so in front of Mary but It was looking more and more like the King had cooled towards her, Anne on the other hand was prime for the marriage market and yet was not attracting offers…there was a piece of the puzzle here that she was missing…she did not like it.

Instead she took another sip of wine and let her older three siblings bicker and she watched them and knew that she was not thinking in that moment of her wedding night.

Despite all her talk she was a virgin and she did not know how to ask, instead she waited until George had left to sneak back and then turned to Mary.

“How do you do it?” she asked finally. Anne who had been sleeping somewhat on the edge of the bed opened her eyes and stared at Mary lazily. There was an edge to Anne now as if she too knew what it was to be a loved woman…but maybe that was Anne all over, maybe it was Anne’s confidence that made it so she gave the opinion of silence only. It was not good to call both of her sisters unchaste.

“Do what?”

“Mary don’t be stupid you know what”

“Oh…well…it’s easy, the first time you lie there—”

“Mary don’t be cruel, she can have a bit of pleasure for herself just like you can”

“Alright, there are ways to make it easier but the first time is going to be messy no matter what…if you want to make it pleasurable there are ways—”

“Whore’s ways”

Mary shrugged not at all repentant.

“Whore ways got you this marriage” she said flatly. “Whore’s ways took this family from merchants and made them gentleman. Whore’s ways make this world turn dear sister if you want a happy husband then you better get your brain around whore’s ways and get around them quick”

There was a warning there that she didn’t totally understand but she nodded.

“I don’t get it” she said finally.

“You can play with yourself for him” Mary said pouring them more wine. “Henry loved that, I used to take my shift of and stand in front of him and smooth my hands down my belly and then up to my breasts, I would play with them while he watched and then slip my fingers into my cunt and play with that”

Anne swallowed her wine and then.

“Fucking hell Mary”

“No there are other things” Mary said smiling at their dumbfounded expressions. “You never let him think that he is a bad lover—”

“To be fair I had heard that” Anne muttered. Mary nodded. “And you make sure that he thinks he is the best the very best, that makes a massive difference to them, granted it’s easier for you, your husband is young and that will make all the difference. But you need to make sure that you are good in bed, Henry, Charles, William Compton, Anthony…they all talk and they talk amongst themselves, you do not want to give him cause to look for a whore”

“Yes” Anne said sardonically rolling her eyes from her place on the bed “And you would know how deeply painful that is to a devoted wife wouldn’t you?”

Mary ignored that barbed comment.

“You can take him into your mouth too”

“I beg your pardon”

Mary sighed as if Beth was being very slow.

“You can take him into your mouth. Henry loves it, I don’t think he ever had a mistress do it for him before and that includes the French…half of the woman of court are ignorant of such things and I truly believe that half of them would have happy marriages if they learnt a few whores tricks but they won’t and so I am the whore and they are the unhappy wife”

There was a pause as Beth took that in and then.

“How do you do that?”

But this time it was Anne that spoke.

“You can have him either lie on his back or you can kneel. I assume the King prefers the kneeling position so use is he to Mary doing it and then depending on what he likes you kiss all the way down to his stomach and then take him into your mouth or you lick at him like a cat lapping at milk”

For a second Beth was stunned. “For shame”

“No not for shame” Anne said sternly. “For pleasure. Mary is right if you want a happy marriage the bedroom is where is starts. You have to learn how to please a man because a man is never going to learn how to please you. Unless Anthony is attentive that way but somehow I doubt he is. I do not have much vaulted opinion in men to tell you the truth”

There was a pause and then.

“And then you can play with—”

“Stop” Beth said but Mary had already said. “Balls” and she wished she had not. She turned to Anne. She loved her eldest sister but Mary was a whore and even Mary would feely admit it, on the other hand Anne knowing about these things was a complete mystery not least because Anne was the one who went around making a big parade of her virtue—such as it was.

“I know these things” Anne said in that annoying way. “Beth we were all raised in France you telling me you do not know about sex?”

“I’ve seen it” Beth said truthfully. Anne nodded.

“Just don’t panic” Mary said “And don’t choke, nothing turns a man off than that. Besides…think of it, once your pregnant you can rule the house—pregnant wives can do whatever they want in my experience”

Anne opened her mouth to point out that Mary had been a pregnant wife to one man but the baby belonged to another and that man was the King therefore meaning that she could do what she wanted but Beth shushed her. Trying the logical point with Mary was never going to work.

Her wedding was not what one would call a big court event. The King was there because of Anthony and his friendship but she noticed that Brandon was not. She did not know why because Brandon and Anthony were closer than Anthony and the King…and his marriage to the King’s sister had been forgiven. Anne had assured her of that much but again Beth who was actually at court had no idea how Anne was getting her intelligence. It was becoming borderline irritating.

However it was her wedding day and the Court had come out to celebrate and even the Queen who had reason not to like any of the Boleyn girls was there wishing her a happy and long marriage.

There was an edge to the tone that Beth could not understand but she thought that there was nothing at least today that the Boleyn had done to offend the woman. Catherine of Aragon was the very definition of Queenly. Whatever struggles the woman was going through she did not usually show them…but even Queens had to have an off day surely?

Dressed in her royal blue gown with her blonde hair falling over her shoulder and her mother’s sapphires in her hair she thought she looked like a bride that could outshine her sisters. Mary with her prettiness did not inspire so much as one look from the King. Anne in silver her dark hair bowed did. Their father beamed throughout the entire service but she did not think that it was from glee at this marriage to his daughter to a man that was rapidly owning half of Darbyshire.

Something was afoot here. She could feel it in the waters that made up a tranquil life around the court.

But Anthony looked at her and smiled and she smiled readily back. Today she thought it did not matter. Today Beth Boleyn became Elizabeth Knivert.

She smiled.

Anthony smiled back.

Her wedding feast was small. They were to bed at court for the night in Anthony’s Grace and Favour Chambers and then they would return to his home in the country. The King sat in deep discussion with her father, the Queen spoke not at all. Anthony enjoyed conversations with his friends and as the food was served she watched as Anne looked modestly down at her plate and then back up when the King sent out a dish to her and then another and then another.

What the hell was she doing? Beth watching her could not figure it out. The King was clearly still interested in Mary…certainly he cast his eye on her now and then and she had just given him a daughter…but he was also favouring Anne and she the bride of the day was not getting any favours at all. Not that she minded but…being the youngest of three competitive, beautiful sisters one would like attention to be one on her on her own wedding day.

Anthony on the other hand said nothing.

“Are you happy?” he asked once and she nodded.

“Very” she said smiling. “I hope today has gone to your liking?”

“Indeed. What man would not long for a wife as pretty as you”

She blushed…she could not help herself. She was sixteen and newly married and though she did not dare admit it absolutely aching for his touch. She found that she wanted to explore his skin with her fingertips.

“I hope that I will please you as a wife”

His smile this time was a great deal more gentle.

“I know that you will” he said gently. “And fear not, I do not intend to deprive you of life at court. I think we shall spend this summer getting our house in order and then return for Christmas. We can make more decisions together when the babies arrive”

“Babies?”

He looked at her and his smile this time was a great deal more sensual. It warmed her to the very core.

“Our babies” he said beaming. “I want a house full of Knivert babies.”

She did not know what to say about that so she smiled.

That night they retried to bed. The priest prayed over them and then they were left alone. Mary winked at her as she left and Anne poked her tongue out twirling in that way that had half the ladies watching her attempting to copy it. The maids Beth knew were infectious for behaviour like that. Anne and her turn of the head and her smile and the way she wore her French hood instead of the Gable one the Queen favoured was a new trend in the making of a court that lived on gossip and fashion as much as it lived on wine, blood and sex.

Speaking of sex.

She was in her new nightgown and she slipped under the covers. Anthony next to her was the very image of prim and proper and then as soon as the doors closed turned to her and propped himself up on one elbow to stare at her.

“Alright wife?”

She smiled trying not to show her terror and he smiled back.

“The first time might hurt” he said truthfully, “But there is a pleasure in the act. I promise you Beth I will never hurt you intentionally. If you tell me you need to stop then I will. But better to get this over with on the first night”

She nodded. In truth she had no idea what the hell he was on about but he sat up and slipped out of the bed throwing off his nightshirt and she stared at the strong back, the arse that was tight and well formed and then he turned and she sat up staring at the planes of his chest, the tight stomach, the strong calf muscles, his arms…and then her eyes dragged downwards to where his cock was hanging half hard and prepped and so very big.

She had never seen one before…well…not up close. A lifetime in Francis’s court and you were bound to see a French cock now and then. Francis had often spent many a drinking bout flashing himself to anyone who would look and quite a few many who would not. God knows modesty was not in the French vocabulary.

She dragged her eyes upwards and Anthony smiled pushing back the covers.

“Take off your gown” he said and she did just that lying there naked. He pushed back the blonde hair and stared down at her and then very gently pushed her legs apart. She felt her chest rise and fall with anticipation. She knew she was an attractive woman, her belly was flat and her legs slender and her breasts were a nice handful, her nipples a healthy pink shade and he laid down on the bed next to her and grazed one hand down her belly, down her breasts and then downwards past the thatch of blonde curls and he pressed downwards and…

Oh!

Pleasure such as she had never felt before hit her. She was wet down there too and that was a new experience.

“Christ girl you are so wet”

“Is that good?”

Anthony chuckled and then.

“Oh darling that is very good” he said and then he flipped one leg over her still playing her, she arched backwards thinking of nothing but the movement of his quick little fingers and how cleverly they are playing her body.

And then he ducked his head downwards and licked.

She gasped hips flying off the bed and he chuckled the vibrations making her gasp. He took without moving both of her hands and placed them in his hair and she gripped it firmly as he moved making her gasp and cry and thrash about under his touch.

There was a coil of something in her ready to spring and she felt it build and build and build again under pressure and just when she was sure that she was going to die with it he pulled back leaving her breathless and on the cusp of something…anything.

She opened her eyes her chest heaving and then.

“I am going to do it now yes?”

“Yes” she cried uncaring of what he was going to do just as long as he got his mouth or his hand back on her.

“Yes” she said again and he laughed once and then he leaned forwards and she felt a burning terrible pressure that made her gasp in pain. He did it in one fell swoop not moving as she grew accustomed to it and she gripped at his shoulders to keep herself grounded.

“I am going to move now”

She bit her lip but he grabbed her chin and kissed her and then he shifted and the burning pain died down somewhat.

She felt him move again and this time she could feel a flicker of pleasure building and burning within her. She felt him rock against her again and this time she let the pleasure burn within in her as he thrust again and again finding as if by witchcraft some kind of spot in her that gave her pleasure.

He chuckled once again and then she was falling over the cliff her little moans growing and he lifted her off the sheets using her quickly to lost to her own pleasure to notice his groan of release.

He put her back on the bed and then slipped out of her turning so that he was on his back breathing heavily.

“Good?”

“Very”

He chuckled and then threw a warm fur blanket over them. She shifted and felt the ache between her thighs as he lifted her and tucked her back under the bed.

“You bled.”

Beth nodded catching her breath and then she turned to prop herself up on one elbow pushing herself close to him and taking his mouth in a lazy kiss. She wanted to take his entire body but she was too tired. She knew now what it was to be in bed with a strong man…she now understood Mary in a way she had never had before. How could you not be a whore when this was the feeling that you got? How could you not want this pleasure every moment of every day?

“Happy?”

“Oh yes” she said breathing as his fingers linked in with hers.

“The most happy”

Even as she said it she felt a shiver down her spine. She did not know why she felt suddenly cold in the hot room but she did. It was as if there was a warning in those three words. A warning that she could not see.

But she was a wife not a witch and so she snuggled down next to her husband and despite it all found herself drifting off into sleep a contented wife indeed.

Chapter Text

They spent two weeks in the country and then came back to court at once, and she moved into Anthony’s grace and favour chambers with the promise to return home soon. The King wanted him for the joust and she wanted to stay at court anyway. Country was nice but court was where the action happened and besides…she liked spending time with her siblings. She had never before spent so much time with them, George, her, Mary and Anne were so close in age that for the four of them it was like a release of their childhood days.

George was to marry Jane Parker who he was rather loathe off. Beth had never met her nor had Anne but Mary had crowed like a peacock when George had come and told them of the match. He had drowned his sorrows in wine and Beth a very happily married woman had left the three of them drinking and gone to find her husband.

For the first time that she slipped into their chambers he did not greet her with a smile. She knew he had been out with Crompton the night before, Brandon had been banished from court still but they all knew that he was to return. The knowledge of his marriage to Princess Margaret had amused half the court for a week and a half. She pulled her hood off and her golden hair fell down her back and then.

“Are you well husband?”

He was sat staring at the fire and then he looked up and for a second she was almost chilled to the bone at the look on his face. He was looking at her as if she was a questioning puzzle. These weeks had been so happy between the two of them, she had been aching for his touch and her own had gotten only braver with each passing day and night they spent in each other’s company. Never before had he looked at her like that.

“Anthony?”

For a second that look remained and then the smile was back on his face. He held out his hand and she took it and he pulled her into his lap and she fell into it letting him rest his head on her shoulder and she relaxed somewhat. This was normal for them and she enjoyed it. She did not know how to tell her sisters how much she enjoyed the mantle of wife.

“Forgive me” he said quietly. “I grow melancholy. But I have good news. Charles is to return to court”

“The King has forgiven him?”

“So it would seem.”

She let him push her off him and she moved to undo her dress. Dinner would be starting soon. It was odd to go into the dinner as a wife and not as one of the maids. Still she had not been able to shift the feeling that she had missed something rather obvious.

The King came in and they sat down to eat and she noticed that the King seemed to be sending many a dish to Anne. It was odd. Anne was one of the maids and the Boleyn’s were interconnected with the King perhaps more so since the birth of Mary’s second bastard but never before had he been so blanketly obvious to one sister over the other. Even Beth who thanks to Anthony got a dish now and then was surprised.

Anthony stabbed at his beef and she leaned forwards.

“Why is the King being so generous to Anne?”

“You tell me?”

“I do not understand”

He looked at her and then put down his knife and fork.

“Ask your sister” he said shortly. “I love you Beth and I want to stay in love with you so I will choose to believe that you are innocent in this”

She had no idea what he was on about but he struck up a conversation with John Seymour and that was the end of that.

It wasn’t that he was cold with her, indeed when they coupled it was still with the same passionate nature as it always was. She was still serving in the Queen’s rooms but she noticed that the Queen had turned her attention firmly against the Boleyn girls. Maybe it had been her absence that had made the coldness so clear to see. Granted the Queen was not the biggest fan of the three of them, Mary had spent a year and a half bedding her husband and had born him two children but she was surprised by it nonetheless. Maybe this was the first time that she had noticed such but Anne sailed around as if perfectly serene and Beth noticed that several of the other maids were shooting her very nasty looks and others seemed to be flocking to her side.

Margaret Pole who was arguably the second most powerful woman in England after the Queen looked as if she wanted to douse Anne in wine and set her on fire when they walked into dinner and she swept her dress away from Mary and Beth as if they had the plague attached to them. Even the Spanish Ambassador was looking at Anne with a sneer she did not understand.

The joust was on Friday and she watched as the King came out with Declare I Dare Not written over his saddle and with that she touched Anne’s arm and dragged her backwards as soon as the King was done in the lists.

“You do not wish to see your husband joust”

“Shut it Anne I’ve been gone two weeks not two months what on Earth has happened?”

Anne sighed and sat down on the bench spreading her black and silver gown and Beth took note of the quality that their father even with his money could never afford. Carefully she gritted her teeth, she was as stubborn as the rest of her siblings and she was also quite prepared to wait Anne out if she had to.

She didn’t have to wait her out long.

“The King is courting me”

“To replace Mary”

“No as more than that, I have him head over heels in love with me”

“Mary had him head over heels in love with him.”

“And I might love him back”

“Mary did love him back, look what am I missing here—”

“The Queen does not bleed anymore”

For a second she did not understand but then she did. In any other marriage the sign of a woman not bleeding would be a cause for celebration…for the Queen aging with no son and only a thin daughter it was a sign of commiserations.

“Oh”

“Yes, her sheets are rank with sweat. The change of life is upon her. She has now confirmed to the King that she is a barren woman.”

Beth didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t think that there was anything wrong with a woman nearing forty in this day and age nearing the end of her courses but clearly that was not want Anne wanted to hear. Instead she raised her eyebrow and Anne swung her legs out.

“He is looking for a way to dissolve his marriage”

“The Queen has agreed to a divorce?”

“No he is looking to do it without her permission”

For a second Beth didn’t get it, she was a newly married woman herself and perhaps it was that but the truth of the matter was that she was stunned into silence. She did not know how the King was going to get a divorce from the Queen or even if he could. She was the Queen of England, very few people alive remembered life without her as Queen. She had been the guiding light in the King’s life, had defeated the Scots, ran the country as he was off in France and Beth was not stupid, if a woman could pray her way into having sons six would be in the cradle by now.

“Anne what on Earth—”

“He has asked me to marry him”

For a second she felt the world turn on her.

“I don’t…what are you saying?”

“Wolsey is on his way to France to host a meeting of Cardinals in which they will declare that the Queen’s marriage is invalid, the King will then ask her to divorce and with Rome stacked against her she will have to comply and I will marry the King and be Queen. You will be the sister to the Queen of England”

For a moment she was so stunned that she didn’t know how to respond and then…

“Have you ran mad woman?”

Anne rolled her eyes.

“Beth—”

“Do you want the list of ways this could go wrong?”

“It will not—”

“You are firstly assuming” she said speaking over her sister. “That Wolsey will get the job done, the Queen’s nephew is the Holy Roman Emperor and one would assume he is going to stand up for his Aunt and his territories are vast and his armies huge, getting over that the Queen is beloved of the people and they won’t take to kindly to you doing whatever the fuck you are doing with her husband. Getting over that you have the nobles…and…and if he was doing it for a foreign princess maybe but Anne…this family is…were not European Royalty—”

“No we are English born and bred, finally we can get rid of those fucking Spaniards—”

“Anne shush”

But Anne laughed as if the whole thing was amusing.

“It’s nothing the King himself says”

“I don’t…Anne how would he divorce her under the Holy Church”

“A man shall not marry his brother’s widow”

“That marriage wasn’t consummated”

“I say It was”

“Oh Good Lord Anne what are you the fortune teller at the fair? There are only two people that know what happened in that marriage and one of them is dead and the other is not going to hand over her crown to you.” she shook her head utterly floored by the shit that she was hearing, she had been gone two weeks! How had the fabric of the court been so terribly ripped like this?

And by her own sister.

“What does father say?”

“He says he’d rather like to be the grandfather of the future King of England”

She did not know what to say to that. Instead she sank weak kneed onto the bench. Anne took her hand and turned her face illuminated.

“Be happy for me sister” she said beaming. “I have the King in my pocket, I know I am going to be the next Queen of England, I will make it so that nothing for woman in this world will ever be the same again and I will usher in a new England—be happy for me for I will remember you when I am Queen and when you have sons…my only regret is that father married you off so early”

She stood up and beamed and Beth looking at her felt her head swim.

“I am going to be the Queen of England” Anne Boleyn said to her sister with utter conviction in her voice. “I am going to be the first lady in the land, I am going to be the King’s wife, he loves me and I am going to make it so that I have his son and his crown. I am going to be the happiest woman ever”

She said it as if she had to tell herself that every day and Beth looking at her had the words on her lips to describe her sister but she could not say it.

After all, how does one call one’s own sister insane?

Anne ran off back to the lists leaving her sat there on the bench stunned into silence and that was where Anthony found her.

“She’s told you then?”

“You knew?”

“I suspected…Charles…Charles has a better network than I do and he’s back at court now so…but William told me enough, he told me that he was planning…it’s beggars belief to me if you want my humble opinion. I thought you didn’t know…apologies Beth but I had to make sure”

“How is she—” she still couldn’t say it and Anthony shrugged.

“I do not know” he said finally. “The Churchmen won’t support it, so if he goes through with it then he will have to destroy the Church and then God only knows what happens then, but he’s in such a mad grip of love…Anne is dancing merry circles around him, always hot and then cold…she makes it so that she is never there for him and then always there, she flirts as she breathes and she is the most determined woman. She won’t let him have her, she won’t let him fuck her, God knows if she did this would die out in a fortnight”

“My sister intends to be Queen of England” Beth said again through numb lips.

Anthony looked down at her and she looked up at him as if to confirm what an absolute shit show the idea was. Love her sister as she did the idea of Anne trying to be Queen instead of Catherine of Aragon double royal through her mother and father and married twice into the royal family was almost beyond laughable.

“I want us to leave court” he said shortly. “I want to spend sometime in the country. I don’t want us here when the Queen learns of this—”

“SHE DOESN’T KNOW?”

“SHUT UP” he hissed at her. “No, well…I think she does but the King hasn’t told her yet. She’s not stupid not by half she’ll know that he’s moving against her she’s known it since she told him that she was barren but…but he is being perfectly polite again to her and he’s trying to trap her into a false sense of security. Thankfully she’s too smart and she’s not going to be caught unawares by a Bessie Blount or Mary Boleyn again. She knows that she has to prepare to defend her daughter. My guess is she’s already gone through private means to tip off her nephew she might be in trouble”

“Her daughter?”

Anthony looked at her and his face was bleak.

“Beth if he goes ahead with this then he has to declare the Princess Mary a bastard and unfit to rule. If he goes through with this he will have to disinherit his only living legitimate heir. Anne thinks she can give him the boy that makes that worthwhile.”

For a second she stared at him and then…

“I don’t know what kind of world we are living in” she said finally and he smiled grimly at her.

“We are leaving this court as soon as I can get us away” he vowed and then he stalked off leaving her sat there with Anne’s words and his own dancing around her and the image of her sister as Queen of England in her head.

It was not comforting. It was not comforting at all.

The world of which she knew had fallen away again.

And this time she did not know where she was going to land.

Chapter Text

Plague had struck the city.

It was the deadliest kind of plague too, the sweating sickness.

It was the kind that could get you in the morning and kill you in the afternoon. There was no cure for it and once you had it you were in the fate of God. Both of her parents had survived waves of it before and her  mother had lost a newborn daughter to it previously. The plague was not something to be played with.

Anne kept at court but then Beth got a message she was heading for Hever with their father on order of the King. Queen Catherine, Princess Mary and the King were all travelling together, the Cardinal was sick too, Brandon with his wife who was riddled with it, Anthony made them lock up the house, Mary had messaged that she was going to be with her husband but within two days Mary had written her letters crossing each other to tell her that William Carey was dead.

Well…she had never met a more bland man she supposed seeing the letters to the fire.

She herself had been sick too but she did not think it was sweeting sickness. She had been vomiting in the morning but the truth was that she felt faint and ill and shaky and she didn’t know why, that was the crazy thing about the sweating sickness, you just didn’t know in time to prevent it.

It was like the saying said, you had breakfast with your family and dinner with your ancestors.

The first bit of bad news came when Anthony came to see her. She was praying and she turned too look at him when he came in and made his sign of the cross kneeling next to her.

 Something about Anthony’s formality and the sadness that seemed etched on his face told her it was bad news and that he was deeply grieved.

“Is all well?”

“I am afraid not”

Her first thought was Anne but though Anthony was very respectful it would not be Anne that gave him that look. Anne was supposedly fine in Hever.

“Is it the King?”

“No…thank God the King I believe is well somewhere in the North”

Elizabeth nodded.

“It is Sir William Compton. The plague has took him to God's heavenly Grace.”

Oh.

“I am terribly sorry” she said hating that they had to be formal here in any place that they could be seen.

“I will send his wife my sympathy—”

“There is no need Beth. The plague has taken her too”

She stopped.

“Oh”

“Yes”

“And…”

“Anne has it too” he said finally. “Your father wrote, Anne has the sickness”

She nodded and then he bowed terribly stilted as he always did whenever Anne was mentioned.

He turned and left and she went down on her knees and prayed that God, the God that Queen Catherine believed was so fast on her side, that would defend her in times perpetual, would not take her sister from her even though it would make life for a good and sainted Queen a lot easier than if she was alive.

She went to church and prayed her hand on her belly. She had not told Anthony that she was hoping that she was with child. He did not come to her room that night and she knew it was because he was mourning his dead friend. She understood that, she respected that and she wanted to be with him as he mourned but she found that she could not.

That night she collapsed with the sweating sickness herself.

A day later her husband came down with it.

When she woke everything was dark and her teeth were chattering, everything hurt and there was someone dipping a rag in cool water and brushing down her face. She looked like…

“Mother?” she managed to croak. There was a short pause and then the washing continued a half lullaby humming through her brain as if it was her mother here with her. A part of Beth’s brain recognised it as odd because her mother had never been one for gentle touches and warm looks when she had been alive but it looked like her mother. It certainly felt like a mother.

She slipped back into a dream and in the dream a little boy was running around the courtyard of a house she didn’t realise. She could feel the kick of a heel against her belly and she looked down to see swollen belly great with child and she felt a sense of contentment mixed in with sadness. There was a stench of death in the air, a stench of smoke she could not escape and beyond that she saw her dark haired son and her blonde daughter smiling next to three other people. One was fair haired and older the other boy bronzed and a girl with curly light brown hair and she saw them around an older girl, dark eyes snapping with delight and long red hair. She can see the crown on her head and beyond that to another Queen sharing her name who will rule forever.

She doesn’t know what to make of this fever dream but she knows that the man who comes to stand by her side is not Anthony, she turns and frowns.

It’s Brandon.

Old, grey perhaps looking at her with a warmth in his eyes he doesn’t give her now.

She doesn’t understand what is happening and it’s like being doused in icy water. She takes one step forwards and then another and her heel catches on her dress and she trips forwards into cool water and when she turns the girl is on the throne once more.

Elizabeth.

Her name comes to her easily and she stares. Elizabeth Boleyn stares at Elizabeth Tudor and then.

“It’s all a story!”

She whirls around and there is Anthony and he is smiling.

“It’s all a story, and you and I…we were just one small part in it, nameless faceless people really, ready to support the people in history. Footnotes in the great book. Enjoy it for my sake”

And then before she can ask him just what the hell is going on he is gone and she turns and falls again and this time…

This time she wakes up.

It’s Mary at her side. Her father and George had flown to Anne and only Mary had stopped to be with her. Mary recently widowed with two young children. Mary who was here wiping her brow.

Mary did not have to tell her. Beth knew even as Mary tried to find the right words to tell her.

Anthony was dead.

Her father came to see her eventually. The fever had sapped her strength the same way it had sapped the strength of the country. Countless, old and young were dead and cast into graves, there was not a family in the whole of England that had been left untouched by this disease. The Tudor disease as she suspected half of the Plantagenet’s called it. It had come in with them and would go out with them.

He too looked older than she remembered him. Maybe it was the near loss of Anne. Certainly he had been by her bedside and had not come to hers. Beth didn’t know what to make of that, her father had never made a secret that he had a favourite and that favourite was Anne and she had never really cared that much. The sad reality was that her father was just as fixed on what he had been fixed on before.

Getting Anne on the throne of England.

“Your sister says you are with child”

“I am” she said by way of his greeting.

“Even after the sickness?”

“I was told that I had a very mild round with it”

If that was mild then God help the people who had the most severe sickness.

Her father looking at her in a moment of interest looked as if he felt the, same. He sighed and then.

“I am relieved you are alive” he said and she nodded. She had tempered down her expectations to almost nothing with her father, she wondered for a second what kind of a father Anthony would be and felt her eyes fill with tears, he had been her first love, her first dalliance with lust…it was hard to believe that he was gone now.

“I thank you father”

“Anne is alive too and the King just as interested. When we return to court he intends to make his move against the Cardinal”

“Oh.”

“Yes. With him out of the way we just have to deal with Rome and I think we can press on that, if the court hears the way it is being told to then the Queen should be out by Christmas and Anne as Queen and God Willing with a baby in her belly by New Years.”

He made it sound so very easy Beth thought looking at him.

For a man it probably was.

“And of me, and Mary and George?”

“You will stay here in the country, do you year of widowhood and have this baby and then we will get you married, with Knivert gone you inherit much of his land and if you have a boy we’ve proven through two Boleyn girls that you can be fertile. Mary can stay at Hever with her children this summer and come to court with you when you are both ready and you can wait on your sister. George I want married.”

“Wait on Anne?”

“Queen Anne”

Beth felt her lip curl. It was not the title that got to her, they were three sisters, they were used to fighting it out to see who was on top, but now there was Anne Boleyn and her two ladies in waiting. While she would have hated the life Anne was carving for herself she had to admit it was galling to think she had gone from sister to servant by father’s command.

“And then we can look at husbands…Mary has a bit of the shine knocked off her but your…pure as you can be. I might use you to lock down one of the King’s friends”

She didn’t know what the hell she was supposed to say to that.

“Are you staying?” she asked. She hoped that the answer was no, she did not want him and his poison and his treasonous thoughts around her and her baby any longer. It was an awful thing to think about one’s father but when she considered the sweating sickness had taken her husband and Mary’s and left them Thomas Boleyn she had to concede that if she had not known there was nothing fair in the world beforehand…she damn well knew it now.

She was not disappointed.

He left the same day.

He did not look back and she did not look for him.

They had never been the father and daughter pairing that would do that.

Mary came to stay with her in Knivert Hall as she recovered and by the end of the month her belly was showing and she was allowed to be out of the bed. She mourned Anthony deeply, he had been her first taste of a life that a woman could have and she was not naïve as to think that she could replace him with a better husband. She was pregnant and grieving and she cried for him, missed him…they had been stilted in the last few months with everything changing and she didn’t know then how much she would miss him, how to crawl him back from his distain at what the family he had married into was doing.

But she had his baby, god willing a part of him would live on and she looked at herself in the mirror and saw how pregnancy was changing her features and she knew she looked beautiful.

She had thought being a woman came with marriage, it did not. She had been a girl with her marriage, she was a woman know. She like so many woman before her and so many woman after her knew death. It smiled at her and it was illuminating.

And she knew that as her sister carved her new world she had to carve hers. One without Anthony and one where Beth Boleyn the girl died and Beth Knivert the woman survived.

She had to.

The baby in her belly kicked and she knew it.

And so she got out of the bed and looked fate dead in the eye.

And it smiled at her.

Chapter Text

Going back to Heaver was like going back to their childhood. Mary was there with her children widowed. Anne was recovering from her sickness and George even though he should be at court begged their father for a stay claiming he too did not feel well and so the four of them stayed at court all the while the baby in her belly grew and the plotting at court intensified.

George did bring news when he turned up one day. They were in the sprawling grounds being bathed in the scent of honeysuckle and lapped by the water in the stream. There was a sense of peace here, a sense of peace and freedom and with Beth’s belly big, Mary’s children running around and Anne able to walk it was three happy ish sisters that George saw when he turned up.

“The Princess Margaret is dead” he said unceremoniously plonking himself down onto the ground.

“Brandon is widowed?” Mary asked in surprise. “Why they’ve only been married half a year?”

“Yes well...I wouldn’t say he mourned her too much” George said cynically. “Apparently the rumour is when she was hacking up her left lung he was bedding the maids”

“That’s Brandon all over” Anne said cattily. “He’s so fucking cunt struck he wouldn’t notice if the world was burning—how is Henry?”

“Grieved. She was the only one of his siblings to survive adult hood of course it’s a blow to his mortality and then there’s Kni—well you get it.”

Beth sighed. She did not like to hear of her husband’s name these days. Her memories of Anthony were just that, treasured memories. She had loved him, she believed that he had loved her...she was not ready to be consigned to a lonely widowhood just yet but she also knew that they could have been comfortably happy together. He had taken the girl and made her a woman and a mother and she missed him...and she would love him in some way always.

George looked at her for a second and changed tact.

“The Princess and the Queen are having Christmas together this year”

“She’s not coming to court?”

“Oh I imagine she will change her mind but...but she’s with her daughter at this moment in time and she’s happy to stay there—Wolsey must be dancing in his sleep. If he can keep her there in the South and get her to agree to an annulment then it works out well”

“She won’t do that” Beth said quietly. “She’s not going to have that girl smeared a bastard and herself a whore because Wolsey wants to”

“For once I agree” Anne said. “Wolsey is deluding himself. He has to go. Surely half of the court want him to go?”

“Course they do” George said easily. “Question is how?”

“Not how” Beth said suddenly. “Who?”

The all turned to look at her and she stood up, the baby was kicking again and she did not like it. Soon she would be in confinement and she knew that she wanted this over. Motherhood might agree with her or it might not. It had agreed with Mary but neither of her three older siblings had much good to say about their own mother and so she was not sure if Mary was just a blip in the family tree. Mary was a big butterball (as Anne often said and not with kindness) that oozed love for someone in one form or another.

Motherhood might have a question mark dangling over it like a sword...pregnancy did not. She loathed it.

George smiled at her and offered her his arm.

“Who?” he asked again politely. Beth smiled back just as politely and wondered when this family had become so two faced.

“Who is going to replace him” she said sweetly. “Because like him or loath him Wolsey does half of the ruling of this country so the King doesn’t have to and I guarantee you that if you get rid of the Queen and the Cardinal Anne the King will have to do his own paperwork and somehow I do not think that he will thank you very much for that”

The King did come and visit the night before her confinement. He brought Brandon with him which Beth thought an odd thing because she was quite sure that Brandon would rather dance naked in the river with snakes than to spend the night with the Boleyn’s in the Boleyn’s home. It was clear he had been ordered to be here by his brother in law and clear that he viewed their father with the upmost contempt.

Watching him fawn over the King Beth couldn’t blame him. She knew that she was supposed to be a dutiful daughter but the man made it very, very hard.

There was dancing though with Anne still weak she did not dance and the King dutifully sat by her side. It was like watching a husband and wife and she knew that the servants who knew half of the gossip and yet did not know if it was to be true knew it now.

It would be all over the county she thought taking her wine, by this time tomorrow.

Which knowing Anne was exactly where she wanted it to be.

She took her wine and sat on the windowsill and breathed in the air, there was a gap in the glass where the warm summer air could hit her and she sighed. She wanted to be out of this dress, out of this headdress and sleeping. The pregnancy was tiring and she was hot and she was not a fan of fawning over anyone even the King. With the loss of Anthony it had taken something else from her, it had removed the tinted view of the world, the court...had taken some of the gloss of the shine. Her own near run in with death had given her an outlook she had not expected.

She sighed and breathed in the cool air and then...

“Lady Knivert?”

“Your Grace”

He looked like he would rather be on the rack than be here she thought with a wry amusement.

“I was...I am deeply sorry about Anthony”

She stared at him for a moment and then she found herself blinking back tears. She was not a woman to be overcome by a sentimental moment—she was a Boleyn and Anne for all her jokes that they were born without sentiment was not far wrong from the truth. Somehow she knew had she died her father would not mourn her. Maybe as a counter in the court game perhaps, an opportunity lost, but not as a daughter and certainly not as a human.

“Oh hell...do not cry—”

“I am not”

He shot her a look and she wiped her eyes.

“Pregnancy emotions” she said and he gave her a wry smile.

“I was sorry nonetheless” he said softly. “I lost William and Anthony...both my dearest friends in the world save the King and...” he shook his head.

“I was sorry to hear about the Princess”

He waved his hand at that as if he could wave the grief aside.

For a moment he was silent and then.

“So...dare I ask what the plan is?”

“The plan?”

“For you? And Lady Carey I suppose”

“I do not—”

“You’re going to be sisters to the Queen of England my dear.”

It hit her then what was going to happen. Beth didn’t know why it hit her then but it did.

She was going to be the sister of the QUEEN OF ENGLAND.

QUEEN ANNE OF ENGLAND.

“Oh Fuck” she breathed out propriety be damned and this time he did laugh as if she had truly amused him. She shot Brandon a look and had to concede that he was incredibly attractive. He had a way smiling that made his entire body change. It made you feel special. To be honest it made you feel warm and even though it was summer in her widowhood and impending motherhood Beth felt cold and she wanted warmth. Craved it even.

“I suppose you didn’t think about that one?”

“No...Oh God I hope this does not mean going back to France”

“You would rather stay here?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

 He accepted the comment with a nod and then.

“I wouldn’t leave England if I could help it no”

She sighed.

“I do...you know that what Anne does she does for herself. We are bound to support her as family does but I cannot agree with it, I love the Queen, so does Mary. We...I know what you must think of us...”

“I do not think much of you at all” Charles Brandon said with a hint of something in his tone.

Whatever it was Beth felt the sting of it, it reminded her of when she had first met him and he had looked her up and down as if she was a piece of ribbon that he was interested in buying. She had hated it then and she hated it now.

She stood up uncaring of how hard it was and looked him up and down with her darkest look. It was a carbon copy of Anne’s but she supposed by now glued to the King’s side Brandon was used to it.

“Well you should” she snapped. “For as you say I am going to be the sister of the Queen of England...and that Sire is not nothing...many a man would still find me attractive now. Do not forget that either”

And with that she swept past him back to the Great Hall and wished for nothing more than to never see him again.

She went into confinement the next day.

If she had thought pregnancy was hard then it was nothing to confinement.

It was soul destroying.

She got up one night and felt her water break.

It was a quick birth so she was told. It did not feel like one but she was told by everyone that it was quick.

Her baby girl came to her in only four hours of labour. She slid out of her like a snake and then she was bundled in her arms and Beth got a look at the last living Knivert in this world. Anthony’s daughter and the true love of her life.

She understood it now, why the Queen was going to dig her heels in and fight tooth and nail for her own daughter. She understood it in a way she had never understood it before. What she found she could not understand was her father’s lack of love. Her daughter with her big blue eyes and matted blonde hair was worth more to Beth than the titles and the land and the rest that her father coveted. Even more than the throne.

Naming a girl in these days was more complicated than she wanted to acknowledge. She did not want Anne or Mary, she could not have Catherine, Margaret seemed rather crude given her last conversation with Brandon...which she was loath to admit she was thinking about more than she knew was proper and there were too many Elizabeth’s in this family to contend with.

She held her baby in her arms and decided to go with Eleanor.

Eleanor Knivert.

Her father sent her a letter saying that she would serve her mourning with her baby and then leave her at the nursery at Heaver when she returned to court. Beth read it and felt her lip curl. Anne came to say she was returning to court. George was going with her and his marriage to Jane Parker who he called a witch of the highest degree was all but settled. Mary was to go in Anne’s train.

Her father it seemed was not of the caring kind to his granddaughter. Wolsey’s congratulations had felt more heartfelt and that was saying something.

What was odd was that she received in those days of happy motherhood a basket from Brandon. It contained fresh rhubarb from his own estate and some lace.

She looked at it and then ran her fingers down the note.

Dearest Lady Knivert.

My congratulations on the birth of your daughter. Anthony would be proud...to be informal he would be joyful. A girl is a healthy blessing and please except this gift with my good wishes.

Should you need a champion at court I am happy to play the role. I was unspeakably rude at our last meeting—Anthony was my brother in battle as well as court and my duty to you as his widow is unquestionable. My duty and feelings to you as a man might be slightly more dubious.

I shall see you at court out of your widowhood. I would remind you that the world outside of Heaver does not like Boleyn’s.

Yours Faithfully.

Charles Brandon,

Duke of Suffolk.

She stared at it eyebrows raised and felt...something...she did not know what was this unnamed, untamed emotion but she knew it was steadily rising in her and she felt the uncountable urge to giggle.

“Whose that from?” Mary asked as she came into the room.

“Brandon”

“Must be playing the long game then” Mary said with a smile. “Brandon is a friend to the King first, I got some flowers when Henry was born if I recall”

She smiled but she was hardly listening.

“What did he have to say?”

She thought about the last bit of that letter.

My duty and feelings to you as a man might be slightly more dubious.

“Nothing” she said turning to Mary a smile on her face that masked her rapidly beating heart.

“Nothing important anyway”

Chapter Text

She had been at Heaver. The four of them had been at Heaver. She had come home simply because Mary had asked her to, there was a tension between her and Anne. George had come with her and for the four of them it was like their childhood again. Their father was not with them and so they lounged around in the gardens.

Eleanor was a babe in her arms most of the times. She took time away from her siblings. Mary had taken to riding around the land when she could, Goerge had decided that he needed to pray—though that might have had something to do with his wife and Anne wanted to read and so Beth would take Eleanor round the gardens with her in her arms. It was a heavy burden—the child—but one that she loved. She had never before seen children like this, never before understood the powerful love that you could have for one.

But then there was the big thing...the big question...the big debate.

The King had opened London with mass sitting next to the Queen with the Princess Mary next to them their dark heads bowed together in prayer for what was lost. They seemed cordial, closer than ever and worth Anne still sequestered away at Heaver for her health she was getting more and more desperate. Sometimes Beth thought looking at her that she would make herself sick again just through sheer force of worry.

“He will return to her” she said on her one day they were walking around the lily pond. “He will return to her and forget about me”

Beth sighed. She was not one to voice her opinion when Anne was like this and it did not help Anne’s temper. The truth of the matter was that there was an order to this world and even Anne Boleyn the great believer in the reform of the world under her footsteps could not change the reality. Beth didn’t dare say it but it seemed obvious to her that if a man’s brother should die then the best thing he could do would be to make sure that his wife was looked after and that his children were raised in a Godly home. She did concur however  with Mary (who also voiced this opinion) that the last thing the great men of the Church wanted was a bit of ordinary advice from ordinary woman. Common sense and the Church did not in her experience go hand in hand.

But Henry’s refusal to send for her set Anne’s teeth on edge.

The children did not help.

Cleverly Beth had claimed that the ache in her breasts hurt so terribly she had to suckle her own baby, at sixteen that was the best she could do to keep her with her constantly and so she would sit in the corner at the window seeing the grounds with her baby at her breast with her blonde hair covering them both and more than once it had set Anne’s teeth on edge to see them the picture of motherhood. Coupled with the knowledge that Mary had the King’s son and daughter toddling around after her and it made her eyes glint with a fury that was almost unparallel. Not a longing...but a fury. There was a desperation to her in those long hazy summer days before the King set out to greet his mistress once more...the desperation not to have a flesh and blood healthy child...but to have a boy.

And then she did the unthinkable.

Charles Brandon had wrote again and this time with her baby asleep in the cradle she took the letter outside in the early morning to read it. The sky was an early morning blue, the colour of a duck’s egg and she held the letter in her hand. He had written twice now and she did not know why. Nor did she want to know why. She thought of Brandon as this figure that was out of reach, this man who was the King’s best friend. The man who viewed her sister as his enemy until death. As to why he was writing to her she didn’t know.

The problem deep down was that she knew Anne made it so damn hard to be loyal to her and the Queen did not.

She stared at the letter and wondered again just what on Earth this complicated man wanted with his best friends widow when there was a scream that rented the air and made the birds in the trees scatter with a cry. She sat up nearly dropping the letter into the lake and then she shoved it into her boot desperate to keep it from view as she stood up to see Mary coming out of the castle looking wild with a fury that she had never seen before. She had not known that Mary possessed that kind of fury if she was being honest with herself.

She came out onto the main drawbridge path and then followed the sound to see her two sisters ripping each other’s hair out with George literally stood between them looking very much as if he would take a crusade to Jerusalem over this.

“What the hell?” she said staring as she shut the door. She did not want to deal with the constant pettiness that existed sometimes between her sisters and both of it over the King. It shouldn’t matter that Mary had slept with him first...but then even in her mind that was a contradiction in terms. If it mattered that the Queen had been with her first husband then surely it would matter that the King had been with one sister, was rapidly turning her attention to the other and her in the middle hoping that it would end there.

George shot her a look as he wrested Anne’s hand behind her back in brotherly scorn.

“Nice of you to turn up. Mary go sit over there please...it’s already done, I do not agree totally with it but it’s already done. The second father—”

“SHE IS STEALING MY SON!”

Beth blinked.

“What?”

“She has assumed guardianship over Henry.”

She still didn’t get it.

Mary scoffed seeing the look on her face. “Beth...as far as the law is concerned. SHE is Henry’s mother”

And then she got it.

She turned to look at Anne who shrugged.

“I have to have an edge” she said quietly. “I have to prove that I can have a son—”

“Anne he’s not yours”

“Elizabeth—”

“Do not call me that—you didn’t give birth to him or carry him or...”

“Oh like that matters”

“Anne!”

“Really Mary you should be happy for me...you can still be his Aunt—”

She didn’t get to finish that sentence because Beth had just slapped her.

For a moment the four of them were stunned. George staggered still holding Mary back. Anne opened her mouth her hand still pressed to her cheek but Beth got there first.

“You’re not Queen yet. It only becomes a criminal offence to hit you when that Crown is on your head—”

For a second the two of them stared at each other and for the first time, for the first time in her life Beth could fully appreciate why Queen Catherine must hate her sister. Because right now in this moment, she hated Anne Boleyn.

George took the moment to speak.

“You can still keep Catherine Mary and Anne is not moving against Elenor Beth they’re just girls—”

“And if Eleanor was Edward, a baby instead of a flesh and blood child she’d have taken him off me” Beth said flatly.

For a second Anne Boleyn looked at her two sisters and her brother and this time the all saw the truth of it.

“I suppose it would have been better then” Beth said dreamily. “You could have passed yourself off a mother to the newborn. Only the King would know that you have stolen a child as you have stolen his wife’s crown. Now everyone will see you in this action for what you are”

Anne stared at her.

“I am the soon to be Queen of England and I will have the King’s son”

“Sure about that are you?”

It was a monstrously catty insult but Anne had already pushed herself from the room.

Beth bit down her lip and turned to face George.

“Don’t pretend I don’t see your grubby fingerprints in this—”

“I didn’t think it was a good idea—”

But Mary was already crying.

Lady Knivert.

I am sure if you don’t know by now you will know that your sister has assumed guardianship of Lady Carey’s son. I also must write to inform you that she has petitioned the King to assume control of Anthony’s lands.

Beth stared at the words. It was nighttime and Anne had gone...there was no point in beating her to death now. The King had finally called for her.

I managed to stop her.

For a second she stared at the words and then...

“Oh”

I will not see Anthony’s child consigned to the winds by your sister. I have asked the King for his lands to be petitioned into my own...I know that you will not see that as a good thing...

Too right she didn’t.

But please understand that it was the only option I had and I had to move fast. Anthony’s home has been in his family for years...since before you and I ever had land and I owe this to him as a good friend.

I you will permit me I will assume wardship over your daughter. Your father will sell her down the river if he thinks that he can get a good price for her.

Again...true.

And now we have seen your sisters true colours as well. I do not know when you will be back at court but if this is amendable to you then seek me out.

There is also another proposition that I fear may come to pass that we should discuss.

Yours.

Charles Brandon

His Grace the Duke of Suffolk.

Beth stared at the letter for a long time.

Actually she stared at it until dawn peeked out on the horizon.

There is also another proposition that I fear may come to pass that we should discuss.

What the hell (and she said that reverently) did that mean?

She folded the edge of the letter into the bible and then threw the bible into the side of the bed.

She turned on her side and tried to sleep.

She didn’t...all she could see was Charles Brandon’s smile.

Fuck.

Beth was in trouble.

You did not need to be a wise woman to know that the nearly seventeen year old widow was in trouble when it came to a borderline flirtation with a very rich, very handsome, older man.

The next morning Heaver was in disarray.

“He’s coming” Anne said attaching a black veil to her hair. “Stay out of sight while I go speak to him”

She turned and ran off a spring back in her step and Beth watched her as Geroge came out brushing crumbs off his doublet. For a second the two of them stared at their sister as she went to make sure that she was perfectly poised in the garden for where the King would ‘happen’ upon her.

There was a pause and then...

“Well” George said heavily. “Here we go again—father wants us back at court”

“I know”

“Anne has recovered, you are nearly out of your year of mourning...he’s got plans”

“I bet he does—and Mary?”

“Cried herself to sleep last night”

“Jesus George!”

“I know...” George said sharply. “I...I’m not a fan of the plan Beth but the endgame has to be worth it. She has to get the throne, a Boleyn boy one way or the other has to have that Crown. No other family can do what we have done”

“What makes you think it will be a boy?”

“Please” George said dismissively. “A woman couldn’t run this country”

There was a pause and then.

“I don’t know”

George scoffed with brotherly scorn. Beth opened her mouth to tell him what she had seen when she had been unconscious but then she closed her mouth again.

“We need this” George said again a mysterious and borderline manic glint in his eye. “We have to do this—”

“Stop saying that” she said more than a little unnerved at what she was hearing.

He looked at her and her brother was gone, replaced by hard ambition, the look of their father. It was in moment that she could see the resemblance. It made her almost sick to see it, George had never looked like that before.

“It’s not worth life itself” she said shivering a little with the sense of an untold prophecy.

George looked at her and he wasn’t smiling.

“Yes” he said darkly as he stepped back into the shadows and away from sight, away from a world where she knew she could not follow him. “Yes dear sister, yes it is”

Chapter Text

Returning to court was disturbing. There was no other way for it, it was just disturbing.

The Queen was all but gone. She stayed in her rooms and came out for dinner and that was the end of that. They didn’t get to see her because Anne set up rival rooms and Beth and Mary were sequestered as Lady in Waiting to their sister. It was both amusing and galling and while Mary might braid her hair and Beth might dress her and both of them made sure that they were not in the room whenever they didn’t have to be. The King came often and it was tiring for Mary to see the father of her children dance with her sister and the avid faces of the court look at them both as if looking for desertion or pregnancy. She didn’t know if Mary was still in bed with the King, if she was still being used to stop a Seymour girl from getting into the bed of the King. She didn’t know if she would be next. God knows she was getting some looks as if they expected the King to move from one Boleyn girl to the other, to the other.

The Spanish Ambassador practically said as much when she saw him the other day. Beth didn’t have to speak fluent Spanish to know that the man was implying that the three of them indulged the King in some incestuous orgy.

She didn’t know what else to say or do in that moment other than duck into the gardens and go for a walk.

It was odd being back here as a widow where she had once nearly been a wife. Anthony had courted her here, she had been happy here, and now she was being judged. It was not the first time that she had seen the vicious circle of the court but she knew enough to know that she didn’t enjoy it. Once she might have found great fun in gossiping with the other woman but now she found it tiresome and dull and boring. She didn’t like being looked at like she was the other woman, the third Boleyn girl, the one who the King would not fuck and why would he not fuck her when he had already dipped his wick into the other two?

It was a crude image perhaps but this was a crude world. A crude and a cruel one too boot.

And she missed her baby.

The whole thing set her about to being so melancholy that at the start of the third week she was struggling to get out of bed. She went through the motions of the court and then went for a walk after breakfast where she could let the smile drop and the tears that for so long she wanted to cry escape in the hedge if only for a few moments.

It was there that he found her.

Charles Brandon.

“My Lady?”

She looked up from where she was staring at a rose bush and saw him offer a cloth to her.

“Oh God” she said wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. He smiled at her this gentle odd smile.

“No need to hide it on my account my Lady Beth. I miss him too”

It took her a moment to realise that he thought that she was crying over Anthony and the shame flooded through her at once.

“Thank you” she said wiping her eyes. “In truth I just…I did not think…” she didn’t know what to say and he offered her his arm and she took it for simple want of something to do.

“When I lost Margaret I was balls deep in another woman” he confessed and she nearly fell over.

He caught her shocked gaze and he shrugged. “The King knows I think” he said easily. “This is hardly the time where the man is going to lecture me about remaining loyal to my wife. But there I was while she was dying…and…and when I found out I was so terribly sad, sad and guilty.”

“Did you love the Princess Margaret?”

Charles Brandon paused and at once she thought she had offended him. However he seemed to be thinking very hard upon how best to answer the question.

“I lusted after her” he said finally. “You don’t remember but I came up through the court of the last King and it was not a happy one. I watched Margaret Beaufort treat her like she was a pawn and Henry too. Believe me the kindest thing she could have done for her grandchildren was too die quickly after her son. The reality was that she was dreadful. Margaret and I used to plot to help Henry and Catherine…was it love? Lust perhaps, intense lust. Jealousy intense and sheer jealousy at the thought that someone could have the other, and then the tedium of realising country life was not for us”

“Not for you?”

“Not for me with her” he amended. “But I miss her, I find that the house was always, warmer when she was there, that there is something nice about having someone to smile at over the breakfast table. I know that sounds mad but—”

“That doesn’t sound mad to me” she said softly. He looked out over the lily pad pond and then nodded and…

“So…dare I ask what has you crying?”

“Oh the usual. In truth I fear I just miss my baby…and…and it’s hard. I did not think how hard it would be to come back.”

“Because of the baby, Anthony or your sister?” he asked shrewdly.

“In truth the later.”

“What’s she done?”

“Apart from put the fear of God into everyone and anyone by taking Mary’s son?”

There was a pause and he looked at her and she shrugged.

“It’s grating” she said finally. “You might not see Anne as anything other than what she is now but I remember her as she was before she had the Crown in her sights. And nobody wondered back then why the King was not fucking me”

He stopped dead and turned to look at her for a second.

“I never wondered that”

“Why thank you” she said dryly.

“I suppose your father is looking for another match for you?”

“I doubt he will do anything” she said flatly. “Matters are a bit…unsettled right now for us”

Charles Brandon turned to look at her and then he laughed in genuine amusement.

“I hadn’t thought about that” he confessed. “My God how high a man could go with you, how far he could fall as well”

The situation was so accurate she found she wanted to cry again.

“Oh don’t” he said softly. “Come on My Lady I wasn’t teasing you I was…stating a fact”

“Indeed” she said primly. And then in an odd moment of delicious teasing that she didn’t find often she found that she was on the upper hand with him.

“If only there was a man writing to me, asking me for walks in the garden, no man has ever done that before?”

She had caught him on the raw and then she laughed and curtsied and walked away before he could realise that she had played him at the game he claimed to be the master of.

Flirtation.

She was going to be the death of him.

She really was.

Charles Brandon was not some cunt struck page who had never seen a woman before and there was no reason why this one whose sister he despised with a desperation the devil had not seen, would get to him.

But she had.

There was something about Beth Bolyen. Anthony had never been able to shut up about his wife, had never been able to stop talking about her, had spoken about her in term of such wonder that Charles trapped in a rapidly souring marriage had never been able to think about it.

He couldn’t put his finger on it. When Anthony had died he had told himself that he would look out for her. William’s widow had died and so that had been the end of that and that had left Anthony. Anthony who had the perfect life, the perfect little house in the green, green lands that were England and the wife who was all milk and honey blonde only with more innocence than her whore of a sister.

Both of them.

He didn’t know what it was about this woman that got to him but there was something in it that did.

But how to go about it?

To tie himself to the Boleyn faction was admittedly smart. As sickening as it sounded he had to admit right now she was in the ascendancy. He was here at court on the assumption that he would help destroy Wolsey. And to be honest he did have to admit that Wolsey had to go. He had ruled the roost for so long with a finger in every pie that it made sense that he was to go now.

But to call himself Thomas Boleyn’s son in law was utterly repulsive.

Oh if only the man could die! Then Charles could marry his daughter, the enchanting, bewitching minx that she was. He wanted to marry her too. Wanted to marry her…and if the old man did die then he would enjoy fucking her over his grave…

No…that was a deeply heretical image.

And right now he couldn’t afford these thoughts.

He carried on walking down the garden path and thought to himself about the choices that he had.

He loved Catherine. Catherine had been the big sister that he had never had or wanted when she had first come to court. She had been the woman who had held out hope despite it all and he had been proud to serve alongside her and her husband. He had wanted nothing more to do than to watch them raise their hundred and one children but it was the cruellest of ironies that only one had made it this far.

And now there was what…this woman…who he hated…who was not fit to spit in the dirt at Catherine’s feet who was going to take her place? And God only knows what she was going to do with Henry. Never mind the security of the country, the sanctity of the Church…everyone now was out to get what they wanted.

And fuck it all to hell he wanted Beth Boleyn.

He just…he could not ask for her. He really could not stomach the thought of asking Thomas Boleyn for his daughter’s hand in marriage. 

He sighed and chewed his bottom lip.

Oh what to do…

He could ask Henry he supposed. But Henry thought with his cock and his cock might not be in Anne Boleyn’s body but it was damn well in Anne Boleyn’s hand and she too would have something to say.

He cast a vicious look at the carp in the moat and then back down the path where the woman that he had grown to love (horrendously) had gone and then he grinned with all the cockiness that came with being the shit that he was.

He was Charles Brandon.

He was Charles fucking Brandon.

He had come from nothing. He had come from absolutely nothing and he had worked his way into being the best friend of the King of England, he had worked his way into bedding and wedding (and in that order) the last Princess of England, the King’s sister. He had worked his way back to court…he had done everything and anything asked of him.

And now he wanted something in return,

Fuck it.

He was going to ask her himself.

He was going to ask Beth Boleyn, the enchanting, bewitching little minx himself and fuck Anne and Thomas and George and even Mary Boleyn.

He grinned to himself as he walked back up the garden path.

He was Charles Brandon.

His Grace the Duke of Suffolk.

He didn’t need anyone to decide his own destiny.

He made his own.

Chapter Text

Charles had known Catherine since he was a teenager. He had been stood by Henry’s side when Catherine had first come to court with that dreadful Spanish Duana and the rest of them, he had been there when Arthur and the King and Henry had all been introduced to her, had been there when she had come for the funeral of Queen Elizabeth, had been there when she had married Arthur, seen Margaret off to her first husband, had been there when Arthur had died and she’d come to court and set her jaw against the great bat that was Margaret Beauford and he had known deep in his soul looking at Henry (who had then been Harry) that the Spanish Princess would win.

Time tended to rob a person of something. Anne Boleyn had no concept of time other than the ticking of her womb that remained as empty as the woman she was trying to dethrone. She was the oldest of three sisters two of whom had, had children, one of whom had, had the King’s children. Catherine Carey was too much a Tudor and the boy was even worse. Anne had robbed him for crying out loud and it did not take an intellectual to understand why and Beth…well…Beth had a bright eyed, blonde baby girl and the possibility and options to have more.

Anne had nothing.

Catherine had a daughter.

It was hard to tell in this day and age who had lucked out less.

But the point was that Catherine had faded with time. Charles had seen it much the same as her husband had and yet here he was forced to witness the humiliation of the woman he had loved like a sister who had never been anything but kind to him even when quite frankly he had not deserved it.

He looked out over the crowds and saw Boleyn giggling with Norfolk and knew that as much as he wanted the man’s daughter, covered her with an ache in his heart and his balls he did not fully understand, he could never ask him. He shifted his gaze to Henry.

He was going to have to douse this in as much permission as he could. Henry was the right person to get on side but the truth was Henry didn’t have a secret anymore that didn’t find it’s way drip, dripping into Anne Boleyn’s ears like poison. And the brother was not much better. Mary Boleyn too was on her sister’s side if only to get access to her children…so…

So he was asking the source himself.

Once this shit show was over.

He sat there and watched as John Fisher escorted Catherine of Aragon, the daughter of Isabella and Ferdinand of Spain, who had been at war her entire life, who had been doubly royal before Henry had even been out of the nursery into the courtroom. Catherine for the most part did not look shamed or horrified or teary, she looked ready for battle her head held high and her gaze defiant and the crowds shouting her name and shame on Anne. Charles knew Henry and he knew from the expression on his face that he was deeply discomforted by what he had saw and heard. He had expected Catherine to come here defeated and alone and friendless, as she had nearly been when he had been King and chosen to marry her.

He had not expected Catherine to come dressed for a battle, and ready for war.

The Cardinal began to speak but then Catherine did something so utterly Catherine that it shocked them.

She stood up, knelt at the King’s feet and began to speak.

‘Sir, I beseech you, for all the loves that hath been between us, and for the love of God, let me have justice and right. Take of me some pity and compassion, for I am a poor woman and a strange born out of your dominion. I have here no assured friend, and much less indifferent counsel. I flee to you as the head of justice within this realm.

Alas, Sir, where have I offended you? Or what occasion have you of displeasure, that you intend to put me from you? I take God and all the world to witness that I have been to you a true, humble and obedient wife, ever conformable to your will and pleasure. I have been pleased and contented with all things wherein you had delight and dalliance. I never grudged a word or countenance, or showed a spark of discontent. I loved all those whom ye loved only for your sake, whether I had cause or no, and whether they were my friends or enemies. This twenty years and more I have been your true wife, and by me ye have had divers children, though it hath pleased God to call them out of this world, which hath been no fault in me. Ane when ye had me at the first, I take God to be my judge, I was a true maid, without touch of man; and whether it be true or no, I put it to your conscience.

If there be any just cause by the law that you can allege against me, either of dishonesty or any other impediment, to put me from you, I am well content to depart, to my shame and dishonour. If there be none, I must lowly beseech you, let me remain in my former estate and receive justice at your princely hands.’

For a moment everyone was stunned into complete silence Charles included. Even the crowd seemed to have gone silent. Wolsey looked like he was going to faint, Norfolk looked sick, Boylen looked furious. More had not even bothered to come here which was a slap in the face to Henry but Charles knew what he would make of this entire charade. Charles himself felt shamed to his soul that he had been forced to sit here and listen to this. That the court had, had to listen to this. To this woman who was worth more than them in their entirety defend her marriage and do it with such grace.

Catherine of Aragon got to her feet as graceful as ever refusing to let age or shame betray her. Her curtsy to her faithless husband was as low and loving as always. Henry looking at her looked horrified. Charles really couldn’t blame him.

For a moment the two of them husband and wife started at each other and then with a look of utter contempt the Royal Queen of England, the one true Queen of England turned on her heal and walked out of the courtroom steadfastly ignoring all calls to come back and face the charges of deceiving her husband of twenty odd years and walked out to the adoration of the common people of England who Charles knew would never accept some Norfolk born slut as her equal.

Mary’s hand had found hers under the covers of their gowns and Anne had burst into tears. They’d found a hidey hole hidden behind a tapestry that desperately needed to be mended and the three of them had waited. Anne in anticipation that soon it would all be over and Mary and Beth in dread over what they were about to hear when the Queen they had both served and loved came in to defend herself and her crown from their sister.

Mary’s hand had found hers and they had squeezed and Anne had burst into tears.

“I will be her death or she will be mine” Anne had said between tears and then she had pushed past them and gone off to calm herself. Beth found that she was shaking. Mary wrapped one arm around her shoulder.

“Come into the open air” she said gently and with all the tenderness of a mother she pushed them out of the corridor through the crowds and to a bench behind a wall where Beth could sit there and try to not faint.

She was not entirely sure it was working. She had no idea how they had gotten to this place. No idea how they had gotten to this point where the Queen of England was defending her marriage publicly because her sister refused to allow herself to be the King’s mistress.

“How did we come to this?” Mary said quietly. “How has…” she shook her head and looked out over the river. “She’s gone to far she must have…I don’t know…I don’t know what this is going to cost us, the happiness of a Queen and the security of a Princess…the loyalty and love and respect of the common people, the sanctity of the Church…” she trailed off.

“Wolsey is next in the firing line” she said to herself as if she didn’t see Beth sat there shaking like a leaf and near to tears.

“Mary?”

“Hmm?”

But Beth could barely speak. The whole thing had shaken her to her core, she had not ate due to the nerves in her stomach, she was desperately missing Anthony and her baby, she was bleeding now and she was shaking. The reality of what they were about to do as a family, what Anne had dragged them into was hitting her now and she was sure she was going to faint. She was not a fainting woman, not a woman prone to hysterics and yet—

“Lady Carey is your sister quite well?”

OH GOD.

HIM.

It had to be him didn’t it?

The Good Lord (and she said that reverently) just couldn’t give her a break could He? Of all the men in England who had to find her in this state it had to be him. The one man she wanted more than she cared to allow herself to even think about.

She was lonely, she was achingly lonely. She wanted him like an ache.

And that was frightening.

For her that was frightening.

She looked up just to see Charles Brandon dropping to one knee in front of her. He looked at her and he seemed to read it all in her eyes, her fear that she was going to be unloved forever, that Anne was going to take away her child and her hope of a husband by tainting her forever, the fact that she was acting like she was brave but the cold shoulder from the Ladies was almost too much to bare, that she was missing her baby, that she wanted more, that she was feeling emotional with no reasons other than that, that she wanted him desperately to put his arms around her and hold her close and protect her from the storm that was coming. That when she had been a young girl come to court she had thought it all a game and now she saw the muck under the gold awning.

That she was falling head over heels in love with him and it scared her shitless.

Yes…the last one perhaps.

Charles Brandon looked at her and then.

“Lady Carey perhaps you better get your sister a glass of water”

For a second Mary blinked but then she nodded and turned away and ran back to the castle. Charles Brandon sat down on the stone bench and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

“You know there are easier ways of getting my attention” he said cheekily. Beth smiled and dropped her head to rest against his arm. If anyone asked about this sudden weakness she would blame it on the whole nearly fainting thing.

“We were watching” she said quietly.

“Yes I thought she would be watching” he said mildly. “In a foul mood I take it?”

Beth nodded. Carefully neither of them spoke about who they were talking about, Charles was silent for a second and then…

“I appreciate that this is not the time but I fear if I don’t ask I will never get the chance.”

She turned to look at him and he turned to look at her and he reached out slowly and tucked a strand of flyaway blonde behind her ear.

“What?”

“Marry me Beth Boleyn”

For a second the entire world seemed to stop.

“What?” she croaked out again.

Charles Brandon grinned at her.

“I find that you are…bewitching me inside and out heart and soul. And I cannot stand with your sister but I can stand by you. I can make sure that you and your girl are protected. I can give you a home and a life and what I hope happiness, I can give you a title and I can give you the chance if only for a short time to walk ahead of your sister. I…fuck it…woman I am so in love with you it’s took my breath away. I look for you in every room. I don’t know how to look away from you. So if you would be so kind as to put me out of my misery by consenting to be my wife that would be wonderful…and a great honour for me” he added as she stared at him.

There was a hundred and one reasons to say no she thought looking at him.

A hundred and one reasons to not do this.

Anne…the King…her father…the state they were in as a family. What Wolsey would do when he found out…what George would do when he found out…what her father would do when he found out…what Anne would do when she found out.

That last one in particular was a real threat. Anne had already taken one child with Boleyn blood away from their mother. Might she not do the same with hers?

And for Charles…this was the second ill advised marriage he was proposing. God knows most men did not survive the first one when it came to the King’s displeasure. Anthony had told her as much that Charles had begged, borrowed and stolen his way back to the King’s side.

And now he was proposing to give it all up.

For her?

Really?

The list was endless.

It was…it was insane…totally impractical…reckless…radical…

But there was only one reason to say yes.

She looked at him and she knew she was going to have to say no.

She opened her mouth and the word came out.

Just not the one she intended.

“Yes…”

Chapter Text

There are a hundred reasons she thinks not to do this.

A hundred reasons she thinks again as she takes a bath and washes her hair. She tells Mary that she will not be on attendance with Anne today as the Queen needs her. Technically they are still in the Queen’s employment and they do technically still work for her, Mary knows this, Anne knows this, just because Anne had her own court chambers and people flocked to her rooms did not mean that she was the Queen.

And so it was easy. The one hurdle that should have been in place was gone and she washed and dried her hair watched as it went from dark blonde to the bright gold it usually was and she stared at herself using Mary’s long looking glass that had been bought for her by the King when he had been her lover.

She sighed and looked at herself.

Not for the first time since he’d proposed she had wondered what he was seeing. Granted she was pretty—no Boleyn girl was ugly—hell no Howard girl was ugly. It came with the name, they were all pretty either dark or mysterious or fair as milk and honey. They owed their prettiness because they knew it could get them somewhere. They were forwards…God knows never before had a family been forward and the men used their wives and daughters and nieces and even in laws for whatever they wanted. You might marry the name but with it came the family and at the head of the family was her Uncle and her Uncle was not going to like this she was sure.

It had just been sex he wanted she might have understood that. Hell she might have given it to him. Charles Brandon she knew from reputation alone was supposed to be beyond brilliant in bed. From ladies unmarried and married and the King’s sister in between and the Lord only knows how many whores she knew that he was good in bed. If it was just a desirable thing that he wanted she might have taken him to bed herself. She was a widow with her future uncertain…God knows she deserved a little pleasure.

And she did miss the act. Anthony had been kind and studious and she had taken pleasure when she could—long enough to enjoy the act when presented with it. And besides…there was so much scandal attached to the name of Boleyn now that she hardly though romping with Charles Brandon would even raise an eyebrow. She was to put it unkindly the baby sister of two of the greatest whores England had ever known. It might be harsh to say (and despite it all she did love her sisters in their own complicated way) but it was the truth.

But he wanted marriage and as she looked at herself in the mirror and then at her new clothes (due to the fact that Anne would not allow them to fall into rack and ruin on her way to the top) she had to admit that she did not get why.

She let her maid dress her in her deep blue gown with gold thread and she watched her hair be pinned up into a headdress of blue and gold and she didn’t know what to make of it all. She was sure he was going to be there—already he had taken steps to remove Eleanor to his house…they were planning on going back there as soon as this was over. Her notes had already been written, he had shown her the one he had sent to the King. They were too far ahead now to avoid going back and…

And call her a utter fool but she was desperate for him.

That she thought as she gave herself one final look in the mirror, was the problem.

She was happy she thought as she traced the steps to the chapel. She had come alone this time and she had walked through the streets of London feeling rather liberated, she was happy to marry him, God knows she was smiling enough for it. She was not a novice on her wedding night anymore. And he was rich and powerful and achingly good looking. She was not afraid of spinning this to her father or even to Anne. Granted they would both be furious but Beth liked to think she knew her father and how his mind worked. To secure one daughter as a Duchess would have been good enough but to secure one as a duchess and one as a queen and one no doubt as a princess (poor Mary!) and to keep Brandon at the side of the family was a great coup. What did it matter if it was done without permission?

Anne…Anne was not going to like this.

But then again…Anne needed them. She was alone most of the time without her and Mary. Most of the court watched her for desertion or pregnancy and most of them would be glad of her fall. The Queen still commanded the respect of nearly half of the court. Anne might have  the King but the Queen still reigned supreme. Anne needed allies. Beth was an ally.

And Anne was so very, very alone.

It might have given her sympathy she thought as she handed her cloak to the page boy at the door.

But God…Anne made it hard to be sympathetic towards.

Love her, hate her (and as her sister at times she had done both) but that was the truth.

Charles was waiting for her.

God he was good looking.

Sinful thought to be having in Church but there you go.

He turned to look at her and he grinned. He was growing his hair out she thought away from that buzzcut that the King had so recently stopped sporting. She wondered if his hair was going to be curly and felt her lips stretch into a smile at the sight of him.

Charles stretched out a hand to her and she took it.

“You came” he said as if he was surprised that she did.

“Doubt me?”

“Not you, that sister of yours…”

Beth nodded.

“She is not going to be pleased” she pointed out.

“Ah…” Charles shrugged. “I have stared down worse than her. No man will ever get between me and mine…besides…the country will be a nice place to be for a while after court”

The Priest cleared his throat and she knew nothing more needed to be said.

Her first wedding had been a grand affair. Not the grandest at court but it had been an affair in which the King had been there. Not so much for Beth but for Anthony and Mary had been pregnant with his child and the Queen had been serene on her throne and warm in her congratulations. Beth had assumed there and then that, that married would end in death (which to be fair it had) when they had been much older with a grandchildren. She had not conceived the path her family would go down nor the hand that fate would give her.

But this second wedding was to take her to a title and a place more illustrious than her first was done in complete secret. Again she was marrying a man she knew she loved.

This time she had a choice.

Charles slipped the ring onto her finger, a heavy gold band with a sapphire the size of her fist and he winked at her. Beth smiled back though oddly she was nervous. Everything seemed heightened with Charles. Everything down to the last touch or a smile or a look seemed to set her very skin to smoulder and her blood on fire. She was aching for him in a way she had never ached for anyone. The dance they had been doing had been courtly as was proper but the truth was she burned for him like good candles. She burned for his touch and his kiss and his mouth…she ached for him to take her to bed.

She had never felt it like this, this desire that burned you from the inside out and when the Priest with absent minded grace declared them man and wife it was not the knowledge that she was a Duchess that caused her to grin like some village urchin.

As shameful as it was it was the knowledge that she could have him.

Despite it all, despite the three Boleyn girls at court she thought that she had won the grand prize.

It didn’t have to be a crown after all.

His mouth when it came down on hers was like a benediction.

It was almost heresy.

Charles took her to the back of the Church and then ducked down below. He passed some gold coins to the boy there who eyed them as if he had never seen them before in his life and then tipped his hat. Charles opened the door to St. Margaret's Crypt and pushed her into it.

“Fuck” he said removing his hat. “I need you now”

“You want to fuck your wife in a crypt?” she asked.

“If I thought I could wait for a bed I would” he said throwing off his jacket. “But I have been wanking myself raw over you since the first time I saw you”

“That long?”

“Drove me fucking mad to see you with Anthony, wondered how on Earth he had gotten that lucky”

She held up her hand even as he came closer.

“We cannot talk about him here” she said. It was her one concession to the man she had loved and this man who she knew she would love for a lot longer.

Charles nodded at once contrite.

“Apologies.”

She nodded and then pulled out her headdress so the mass of gold hair came free. Charles groaned.

“Fuck woman you are trying to kill me”

She laughed and then his hands were around her and he was kissing her there in the crypt where once Elizabeth Woodville had hidden from two Kings of England with her children and she gripped him back.

He ripped open her jacket and then turned her around making rough work of her laces as he got the gown down around her waist hoisting her and it up against the wall as his mouth attacked her breasts, it was frantic and deadly and dangerous and it set her skin on fire. She turned and gripped his shoulders dragging her nails down his back as he freed his cock from his hose and thrust into her.

She was achingly wet already.

She groaned as he filled her. He was bigger than Anthony and he filled her with a stretch and a burn that she had not felt for a while. She was so achingly desperate for him and him for her that neither of them lasted long. He flexed forwards into her as if he was a dog with a bitch on heat and she knew she was moaning back. It was undignified to do it here but she didn’t care, she didn’t care if the King walked through the door and asked to join right about now all she cared about was that coil of pleasure that was building and building and building and then.

When she came she nearly fainted.

She was never going to tell him that but he was looking at her shuddering with his aftermath with a dazed look and then he bent his head to rest it against her flushed neck. She leaned her head back on the cool stone and felt herself flutter around him with the aftermath.

“Wife” he groaned against her breast.

“Husband” she said somewhere between his hair.

His hand found hers and he interlocked their fingers together and somehow Beth knew that, that was a metaphor for their new life together, him saying without saying what she had knew and yet always hoped. That she would never be facing anything or anyone alone again. She would never be alone again, She would be safe from it all come hell or high water. Nothing was going to touch her while he was here at her side.

Not even the rage of Queen Anne.

Chapter Text

She knew that they knew something was up the second they got back to court. Firstly Charles made no secret of the fact that he was expecting to leave court ordering that her things were to be taken to his chambers and then packed and then he didn’t move away from her. He held her hand as the page ran up to tell her that the King and Lady Anne wanted to see her at once and he came along with her holding her hand through the entire court. Everyone would know she suspected that they had spent the whole day together.

“You’re not afraid” she said quietly. “You can go…”

“I pursued you knowing this would happen” he said casually. “I knew it and I didn’t care. This is not the first time I have married someone Henry didn’t know about. I know my way back now. And besides…even if he did banish us from court your sister would send for us back. She will hate that this has happened, but your father is a conniving bastard and he knows he will need me on side.”

“And Ellie—”

“Oh she’s already at the house don’t worry.” He caught her eye and smiled. “I am not William Carey forced to bend the knee so that my wife can sink to hers, and you are not Mary Boleyn either, you are not at risk of losing your child while I am around. I’ve lived with a wife prone to melancholy when it came to children, I am not doing it again”

He made it sound so easy that for a second she believed that it was all going to go well. She did not know why she indulged in that, maybe it was just sheer will or maybe it was that he had been doing this longer than she had. She had been a girl at Heaver Castle with her siblings when Arthur Tudor had died and he had been here at court when the young Prince Harry had suddenly because the heir to the throne and then later the King. This was the second Tudor Regin Charles had seen up close.

His confidence on how to survive them was undeniably attractive. Beth just hoped it wouldn’t be his downfall.

The doors to the private Presence Chamber swung open. Charles grinned at her with all the cockiness of a young man with a new bride on his arm and the will of the world.

“Forward march” he muttered.

Beth grinned.

She could barely move her lips. She was sure she was gaping at her sister in open shock. George’s mouth was hanging open. Her father was watching his youngest daughter with an expression that said how stunned he was. Even the King had fallen silent.

And Anne…well…Anne did not think there was a word in the language of either God or man that would be able to put into words what she was feeling.

Beth on the other hand looking supremely unconcerned. She was nervous. Anne knew that because she knew her sister and she could see the way she was gripping onto Suffolk’s arm but other than that she was meeting Anne’s eyes with a cool and collected look. Mary in the corner was grinning though Anne knew that was more at Anne’s discomfort than anything else.

The Cardinal who was in the room as well had an expression that said he was more amused than anything else and Anne was willing to bet the gold in her pocket this would be around the court by dinner. The Cardinal had no love for Brandon and Brandon had no love for the Cardinal but she knew both of them shared equal dislike for their father.

Which just made the whole thing even stranger.

“I don’t understand” she said through numb lips. “I don’t…”

“Anne It’s very simple” Beth said quietly. “His Grace the Duke of Suffolk asked me to marry him and as we are both out of morning I accepted.”

Anne opened her mouth and then closed it again and looked at Henry for support. Henry was watching Charles and she turned and looked at Brandon the rogue who had what? Seduced her sister?

But the two men were looking at each other and for the first time Anne understood the depths of their relationship. There had been a long running joke at court that had come to George (and no doubt spread by George too) that the one true love of Henry’s life was Charles Brandon because they got on so well. That if men could marry men and produce heirs Charles Brandon would be Henry’s wife. They had been by each other’s side since before his mother had died and she was under no illusions that Brandon was almost immovable. She might be able to banish him from court but unlike the Queen, unlike the Cardinal, Brandon was always assured he was coming back. He had bedded and wedded the King’s sister and now he had bedded and wedded hers (probably in that order) and she knew that he would always find a way to come back because looking at Henry’s face as he looked at Charles she could see that he needed him. Knivert was dead, Compton was dead. Charles was the last of them.

“You have married Anthony’s wife” the King said flatly. Charles bowed again.

“I did” he said quietly. “I know it was a worry to both of us that Anthony’s child not have a father figure. He was a dear friend to us both and sorely missed”

Henry nodded. His eyes slid left.

“And you Lady Knivert? Is this just fatherly duty for you in this marriage”

“God no Sire” Beth said easily.

“So it’s lust?”

Henry’s question forced her little sister to be shameless but Beth the youngest sister of what history would suspect as two whores shrugged.

“Look at him Sire”

Henry gurgled a great laugh at that and clapped his hands together. He reached out and patted her on the arm and Anne felt the urge to throw him off.

“Oh your sister is just as quick as you are sweetheart!”

“Clearly” Anne said quietly. “For she has removed her daughter from court and married your best friend without your permission”

“Ah” Henry said easily. “Charles has always been Charles in that regard. A second secret marriage” he winked at Brandon who winked back. “Charles don’t go for three will you. I need a son in the cradle before my heart gives out”

“Your Majesty knows he will outlive me” Charles said easily and Henry laughed. He stood up and kissed Beth on both cheeks and then smacked Brandon on the arm.

“You cannot let this go without punishment!” she cried suddenly. The reigns of this conversation had been taken out of her hands and she could feel them slipping away and she didn’t like it.

“Punishment sweetheart? This is a wedding!”

“She married him without my—your permission!”

“And so…your sister is now Her Grace the Duchess of Suffolk!”

“I would think” the Cardinal said as venomous as a spider. “That should give some claim to your position that you are not deposing the Queen for anything less than a good honest Englishwoman from a good honest English family”

Here Anne, Beth, Mary and George all temporarily forgot they were on the same side and rolled their eyes behind the King’s back. The Boleyn family had been called many a thing since the start of the century but good and honest had never been one of them.

The King beamed. Henry beamed and then winked at Charles and Anne knew that she had lost the battle.

Henry had gone with the Cardinal to discuss the case against Catherine and Anne watched as he went. A part of her knew that she had to go with him but the other part of her was still so furious that she could not get off her seat.

It was not that Beth had done it…granted she could see the attraction of Brandon and she could certainly see the attraction of his title but the truth was her sister had done this without Anne’s permission, hell without Anne even knowing it and the humiliation licked up her spine like fire. How was she supposed to be Queen of this court if her own sister had married a man behind her back? How was she supposed to do this if her own sister could betray her with a man like fucking Charles Brandon?

She still could not get over that Beth had flaunted her position within this court by marrying without permission. Anne knew that by perusing Henry she was de facto the head of the family.

Now the entire court would be laughing at her.

Beth looked at her with that frank Boleyn gaze.

“Anne…”

But her father had gotten their first. In one movement he had crossed the room and backhanded his daughter across the face with enough force her head went to the side. Beth whose headdress wasn’t even on remained standing but Anne could see the cut from their father’s ring and…

She didn’t see more than that because Brandon had physically grabbed her father by the neck dragged him over to the table and slammed him down on it catching the man’s throat murder in his eyes.

George swore and tried to separate them but Brandon had bodily thrown her father at the chair she was sat on where he collapsed at her feet with a sickening crunch. Humiliated by a man a good thirty years his junior her father looked almost pathetic cowering there Anne thought as he had to half clutch her skirts to get up.

“If you ever, ever raise so much as an eyebrow to my wife again I will have you killed” Brandon said softly. There was an edge to him that she knew had George ready at her side hand on the hilt of his sword. Brandon looked every inch the warrior he was made out to be, every inch the man he was six feet tall and young and furious and he worked his jaw ready for a fight shielding Beth who was looking at Anne her eyes wide as if she too could not believe that their father (who treated them with indifference on a good day) had hit her for becoming a Duchess.

Her father straightened up and seemed to stagger a little leaning on George’s arm. He looked very much as if he wanted to say something but the look on Brandon’s face seemed to make him change tune which personally Anne thought good.

“I am sorry” Beth said finally into the stillness. “That you are not happy for me Anne I really am”

There was a formality to the tone that she had never heard before out of her silly little sister.

But Beth was not her silly little sister anymore. Anne was to be Queen Anne of England and Beth was…well…Her Grace Elizabeth Brandon Duchess of Suffolk.

How had her little sister managed to accomplish this?

“I am the head…you did not ask permission Beth”

Beth rolled her eyes

“Would you have said yes?”

Anne didn’t know what to say to that. Her own feelings aside it was an adventurous marriage but the truth was…Brandon was…

Well…

No.

The smile on Beth’s face told her that she knew that, the look on Brandon’s face said the same thing. And Anne had to give him credit. He had moved quicker than any player on the chessboard taking Eleanor out of Hever and sending her Suffolk House which had been her first clue something was going on and she had only found out after the child had left Kent with her nursemaid.

"You are also not Queen yet" Brandon muttered looking at her as if she was horse dung on his shoe heel. Anne felt her teeth lock together. 

Perhaps she had underestimated her new brother in law she thought scathingly. He had managed to upset them all without even trying.

“The Duchess and I will leave now” Brandon said and his tone was disgusted as if staying here with them was like having dog shit smeared on his shoe. “I will make my apologies to the King and Queen—” he savoured that word immensely she thought with a pulse of dislike. “And we will return home to Suffolk House.”

And with that he offered her sister his arm and Beth took it. One moment, for one moment he looked down at her and she looked up at him and Anne felt her eyebrows rise.

It wasn’t lust then…it was what? Love? Genuinely love between them?

God knows it looked like it. She had known Brandon through wives and woman and whores and god only knows what and never before had she seen him look like that at someone. Nor had she seen Beth look like that for that matter.

Beth took his arm and the two of them swept from the room not looking back and Anne sat back down on her chair her hands shaking. Mary was openly grinning, George was helping their father and their sister turned their backs on them with her new ennobled husband and walked away without looking back.

Anne had to give Beth credit.

She had left them all stunned into silence.

Chapter Text

He could not stop looking at her.

Beth had not bothered with looking decorous when they had left the palace. With most of their possessions already waiting for them in carts she had simply saddled up her horse and gone off at a canter and Charles had snapped at the servants to follow and then gone after her until she had slowed her horse down and he’d found her staring at the grass on the side of the road.

“You alright?”

She shot him a look with her cut eye and he felt a stab of pure rage hit him when it send him staggering nearly off his horse. Her cut face, the blood on her lip and under her eye was showing now. She had walked through the court on his arm like that refusing to show weakness and now he could see it on her face that she was actually burning with humiliation.

“I knew there was going to be pushback” she said finally. “I just…I mean…” she shook her head and her hair flew over her shoulders. Charles looked behind him and then took the reigns of her horse and took them off the road into the forest. They would not be followed and so he helped her down from the horse onto the ground and then pulling off one of his gloves with his teeth he tilted her head upwards to get a better look.

“I could kill him” he vowed. “I could…I wanted…fuck when that man dies I am going to be there and I am going to smile and I am going to laugh.”

Beth said nothing to this threat on her father, just looked at him evenly. “I thought…I knew it wouldn’t make him happy…wouldn’t make him see me as a person but he has one daughter aiming for the throne, another with the King’s son and one a Duchess and I thought even he would logically like that”

There was a pause as Charles dissected that.

“Yes” he said finally. “But do you need him?”

“Need him?”

“You have me now” he said simply. “That was an oversight I did not foresee. The next time a man lays hands on you he will not have hands, father, grandfather, brother, son, King. I don’t care but I promise you if he tries anything he will be dead”

She blinked.

“That’s treason”

“No it’s really not” he said with a small smile. “He’s damn lucky he didn’t try that shit in front of Harry”

In truth that was a lie designed to make her feel better. He didn’t know what Harry was doing right about now but it wasn’t standing up for woman. You just had to look at his own wife to know that.

Beth turned to look at him.

“The King didn’t mind as much as I thought he would” she said quietly.

“He’s just glad I didn’t run off with someone in Catherine’s camp” he said easily. “You’ll see. And your sister needs you like you said, only this time your services won’t be cheep”

She laughed at that and he was relieved to see some of the sparkle come back into her eyes.

“I wont be huh?”

“Depends if she wants you there with the babies. I might get you behind the walls of my home and never let you go”

“Babies?”

“My babies” he said and he slipped one leg down between her own so that she could press herself against the length of him and she smiled. “I want a house full of little Brandons with you.”

He pressed her back against the tree and she shot him a look and then another one at the road.

“Oh don’t worry” he said beaming. “I’ve had Cartwright as my valet for years. He is not going to let anyone see you like this” 

And then his mouth was on hers and she was responding openly as he curled one booted leg around his waist and then another.

Hands found his hair getting rid of his hat and then running through the dark curls there and Charles groaned as he slid his hands up her thighs to feel how wet she was. She was still dripping from when they had been in the Church and he slid a finger into her easily. She broke their kiss to flick her head back against the bark of the tree and he flicked her clit with his finger just to see her mewls of pleasure.

She gasped into his shoulder as he played her like a lute player and Charles felt a great sense of satisfaction as he felt her close around his fingers before he pulled back.

For a second she stared at him chest heaving underneath her gown but then he pushed her shirk up higher and then dropped to his knees. With one leg wrapped around his head he dove into her with his tongue and she swore under her breath one hand in his hair as he settled into a pattern that had her shuddering all around him as her hands scrapped down the bark and he had the once and future Queen’s sister’s legs wrapped around his head like a common whore.

She came just like that.

He looked up pressing a kiss to her cunt as a final tribute and then he saw her trembling against the tree. He grinned rearranging her dress and she shot him a long look before she dragged him into her kiss again. His hands found her waist but she was already quicker than him opening his hose and dropping it to the ground her hand wrapped around his cock like silk her fingers dragging up the skin and around the head. She grinned against his mouth as he shivered kissing her neck and anywhere he could reach fumbling again with her dress.

Blasted contraptions he though furiously as he managed to get it down her shoulders.

“From now on you are not wearing a dress like this” he hissed into her ear. “I want something I can open easily so I can take you wherever I want”

She laughed as he finally managed to get it down to her waist. “You would keep me like this would you?” she asked and he looked at her standing in the forest dress around her hips her breasts heaving with emotion and her hair over her shoulders down her back and his cock in her hand and he smiled.

“Oh I want you like this all the time” he said pushing her back up against the tree. “I want you like this until the day I die. I want you…” he staggered as she dragged him back to the tree and then before he could say anything else she dropped to her knees and…

Shit.

Oh holy Mary Mother of God.

She had taken his cock into her mouth.

Granted this was not the first time that this had happened. Charles was a frequent concessioner of brothels he knew all the tricks but he had never had his wife do this. Margaret had refused claiming that she was a Princess and it was unladylike. But this…this was the woman whose sisters were both lovers of the King and yet here she was on the forest with his cock in her mouth and he groans as she worked her quick little tongue over the edge of him going from sucking to kitten licks and back again all designed to make him insane.

He groaned as he felt his balls draw up and then he grabbed her by the arms pulling back and throwing her up against the tree and sheathing herself inside of her before she could say anything. Her perfect mouth opened into one long groan and he thrust into her so hard he was sure he could cut the diamond that was around her throat.

From now on he thought she was going to be drenched in jewels. Just jewels. She would walk around pregnant with his child naked as the day she was born drenched in diamonds if he had his way and he would love every moment of this. It had never, ever been like that with Margaret, he had never felt love like this with his first wife, lust granted but there had been something uniquely forbidden about fucking his best friends sister, a Princess of England and there wasn’t a man alive who had not wanted to take her having seen the rotting corpse she was married too. With this woman in his arms throwing her hips upwards to meet his thrusts it was different. This was different.

This was not an arrangement, this was a fucking marriage.

It was his last thought as he came inside of her groaning with such a force he was sure that birds had exited a tree in response. Beth screamed out hoarsely and then she collapsed around him wrapping both legs and arms around his body and dropping her head onto his shoulder as he ran a hand up and down her damp back that was rough raw with tree bark and covered in stains.

“Fuck” he said quietly into her ear. “You fucking witch you have ensnared me”

She laughed and then he exited her dropping her to the ground. She rested against the tree still looking thoroughly fucked as he pulled his hose up.

He found in a way an odd, dangerous way that he could for the first time understand Harry and his desire for the other two. He might not think that Anne Boleyn was worth risking the throne of England but he can damn well understand why Harry had took her sister to bed and why he wanted to do the same to her. There was something powerfully bewitching about these Boleyn girls.

“What?” she asked looking at him.

“Whores” he said with a wry grin. “Utter whores you Boleyn girls”

She laughed not at all fazed by what one might have seen as an insult.

“Only for the rich” she said with a wry grin and then she yanked her dress up. “You better get me looking respectable” she said with a grin. “Otherwise the whole of my staff might think they are serving a whore”

“Please” he said doing up the laces and brushing fingertips down her back with every touch. “The only person serving you is me”

She grinned turning around and he ran a hand down her face feeling the bruise.

“I will end him” he said looking at her. “I will end anyone who dares to harm you again. I want you to know that, you will never look for me and find me wanting.”

She nodded.

“I know” she said quietly. “And in truth I am glad to be away from them. I don’t know what Anne is going to do but I know I will hate it. Let’s go home and be married in the country”

His home had once been dark and dismal he thought, Margaret had never been what one would call a shining beacon of light but as he took his wife back up through the forest back to their horses he found that he was actually looking forwards to getting home. It had been a country home that he had been banished too but he had a feeling that it was going to be something different this time around. It was going to be something better.

He was optimistic about leaving Henry’s side for the first time in his life.

Interesting.

He helped her back into the saddle and pretended that his servants hadn’t used his coupling in the woods to do the very same with the ladies and he turned his horse away from London and he did not look back.

He would be back soon enough he knew that.

With his wife.

But God knows what he was going to go back into.

As he looked at his wife though Charles Brandon thought to himself that oddly enough he wouldn’t mind it.

Chapter Text

Suffolk House was lovely.

There was no other way to describe it. It was in the heartland of England’s country and Charles was a good and fair landlord. He listened to his tenants, helped out with them when he could. He never forgot he told her one day over dinner, that he had been dirt poor once and he knew how much a grain of wheat was to the people. He would rather have a good crop of grain and a good harvest behind his walls than gold he would have to pawn but that was the reality.

They were like a little family. Eleanor was a big healthy baby and soon she toddled to see her on her fat little legs as that summer drew on. The court case against the Queen fell apart. Campeggio declared that he would have to go to France and then back to Rome to get the permission needed which set them further back. She read the letter from Mary that spoke of Anne on the brink again, always the first up, the last to bed never speaking. She had started the dance and she had been unable to complete it and now she was going to have to dance again and she was clearly getting sick of it. She was not well liked by anyone at the court. The woman of the court according to Mary would rather draw their skirts away from her as if she had muck on her shoes. With the exception of the Howard faction of court and the bastards that George brought in with his wild ways the men didn’t like her either. They might think that she was the most beautiful woman around but she was not the nicest.

The common people were a bit more direct.

Beth knew that the first time that she had gone out of the castle walls to see the grounds with her daughter and had seen eyes on her everywhere. She had known that the Lord of these peasants lands coming back with a new bride might be strange but she had not expected such a hostile reaction especially when a woman in a nun’s habit had crossed herself in front of her and her daughter and spat ‘Whore’ at her feet. Eleanor had been in her arms and she had been surprised by the hostility.

Charles had been furious.

“I will see that damn nunnery burn to the ground” he had said when she had come back from tucking Eleanor into bed. She had her own nursemaids now but Beth was the one person in her family who had custody of her own children and so she liked to do the little things. Mary was separated by distance from Catherine and by the law with Henry and so she had promised herself that she would never take for granted what she had and what her sister did not.

“That’s heresy”

“That’s defending my wife”

“Who did not know that it was that bad” she said quietly. “You didn’t tell me the common people disliked her so much”

“Dislike is a bit of a strong word” he said and he pulled her onto his lap his hand making quick work of her hood so that her golden hair spilled out amongst her shoulders. She had learnt that Charles liked her hair down and he liked to rub his face with it as if it held the secrets to eternal life blasphemous as that idea was.

“How bad?”

“They hate her” he said finally. “She is despised. And Henry either doesn’t see it or doesn’t want to see it. But even if she doesn’t see it your father must”

“What’s he banking on?”

“Public opinion swinging when he realises that she can give the King a son”

“Oh for the love of—”

“I know”

Beth was silent for a second and then.

“Come to bed?”

Charles looked down at all his paperwork.

“I have all of this to do”

“Ah” she said and then slowly she unlaced her gold down at the front shaking it off her shoulders so her breasts fell loose. She dropped down off his lap leaning back under the table and then she undid his hose so his cock came free.

“Fucking hell Beth”

“Shush” she said rubbing one of her thumbs over her nipples and then rucking up her skirts so she could touch herself. “You have work to do, do you not? Your wife will just have to take care of herself” and then she took him into her mouth and began to suckle him to the rocking of her own fingers in her cunt.

Charles groaned.

Fucking Boleyn woman were going to be the death of him.

He threw his quill to the side and she took her mouth of his cock.

“Work Charles”

Oh she was going to do it that was she?

He picked up his quill and began to work again as she began to suck at his cock and he tried very hard not to give his entire land away to the Church in the process.

Boleyn woman. No wonder Henry was the way he was. He wasn’t quite sure what he would do if he could look but not touch.

Charles came to see her a day later while she was in the bath. The water was lapping at her breasts and he took a moment to look and appreciate his wife in the big tub golden hair wet on top of her head and scrubbing at herself with the rose soap that was imported from Spain and cost a fortune to get.

“Problem?”

“Anne wants to go to France”

“Course she does. She was the favourite one there and she can’t get the same abuse.”

“Henry is indulging her and…and he has sent Catherine from court.”

Beth dropped the soap.

“Oh” she said quietly. “To where”

“The More. And she is to have the full trappings of Queen she is just not to live with the King. They will celebrate for the big things but for all intense and purposes…”

“My sister is Queen of Hampton Court”

“Well she has that off Wolsey”

“I thought that was the Kings?”

“And now it’s Anne’s”

Beth threw the soap in the water and leaned back against the edge of the tub.

“Do we have to go?”

“We should. Unless you can think of a good reason for us not”

“Perhaps. Who is going to greet her in France?”

“Well it’s early days but nobody so far”

“Nobody?”

“Queen of France has openly they called her a scandal and a whore. And she is a Spanish Princess. The Queen of Navarre has said she wouldn’t design to spend a second in her company. And the Spanish Ambassador is calling her the Lady in a way that everyone knows means the Whore. And More has resigned as Lord Chancellor”

“Father will be furious” Beth said leaning her head against the rim of the tub. “He always said he would pay a thousand crowns not to have More against him”

“He’s retired to the country to write and pray”

“And you and I know that is not going to be the end of it”

“So” Charles said finally. “No Lady will greet Anne. And according to my source—”

“Who is?”

“Edward Seymour”

“Who?”

“He’s the son of Sir John Seymour and we fought in France the first time and he’s new to court and he wants to make his way in the world and he hates your sister but loves the idea of divorce because he wants to throw off his first wife for Anne Herbert so I can use him.”

“I see”

“The trip is still under advisement so if you know a reason why we don’t have to go speak now—”

“It might be because your wife will be held up in bed”

Charles rolled his eyes.

“Darling I highly doubt Henry will be that understanding. Your magnificent sexual skills aside—”

“Childbed”

Charles heard it but it took him a second to hear it. When he did he looked up and caught her gaze. She tilted her chin up to look at him with all that Boleyn recklessness but only he noticed her hands were white knuckling the edge of the bath.

“Your…pre…pregnant?”

“It would appear that you work wonders my love” she said dryly.

Charles caught her eye and then he laughed.

“Yes I suppose that you could say that” he said brushing back his hair.

“Are you happy?”

“I…yes…” he said looking at her over the rim of the bathtub. Her face was not one of the most convincing that he had ever seen so he bent down and took it in his hands and kissed her pulling her up out of the bath uncaring that her naked wet body was getting his own costly clothes wet.

“Yes.” He said again pulling back. “Yes I am happy…a baby…I am very happy”

She smiled.

“Will you be disappointed if I have another girl?”

“No” he said easily. “Just as long as the girl comes out as pretty as you and you rise from the bed as easily as you went into it then I don’t mind. But I can assure you we are not calling that girl Anne”

She laughed at that and he kissed her smiling mouth again. “Alright then, no Anne and no Thomas.”

“Or George”

“Mary alright with you?”

“Yes” he said carefully skating of the fact that he had seen Mary Boleyn half naked in Henry’s bed more than once and had heard enough as if he was there with her.

“But she’s the only one”

Beth laughed and then kissed him once more before climbing out the bath. Charles passed her the towel and let him rub her down his hands on her still flat belly.

“You know I could try and fuck another one into you if you wanted—”

“Oh no” she said pulling back and whacking him with a towel. “I did not get clean so you can mess me up. And one I can assure you is enough”

Charles watched her naked body for a second and smiled.

“You say that now” he muttered grinning.

Summer progressed in a haze of warm sunshine. Until one day reality came crashing down. In truth she knew that it would. She knew her father would not stay angry for long. His daughter was a Duchess, the other was more than likely going to be Queen and his son was now Viscount Rochford.

Jesus Christ.

Beth had been lying on the grass watching the clouds in the big blue sky her hand on her belly when Cromwell himself came riding into the grounds and then walked towards them. Charles was knee deep in the water with Ellie teaching her how to fish and Ellie was giggling away as she sat in her stepfather’s arms holding the rod. Charles was wonderful with children she thought. Wonderful with her daughter who adored him but he was also incredibly respectful of the fact that she had a father. Anthony had never gotten a chance to see his daughter. And yet she knew that Charles was respectful of that. Anthony was his best friend outside of Henry. She remembered the four of them, the King, Charles, Anthony and William Compton. It was hard even now to believe that two of them were gone.

She sat up as Charles fished Ellie out of the water and put her to the side with her nursemaid. He helped her up and they watched as Cromwell walked towards them.

“What do you think he wants?”

“Us back at court no doubt” Charles said flatly.

“Coming from the King?”

“No I think it’s coming from him?”

“Why?”

“Wolsey”

“Wolsey?” she asked turning to him. “Wanting help from you?”

“Well this is war my dear” Charles said with a wry grin. “And in war a man needs strange bedfellows. Even with Wolsey”

“What are you going to do?”

“Hear him out. Darling I love you but a man hears what another man has to hear before he makes a decision even in this Kings court”

“God I need my headdress. My hair is down” 

“No you do not. Believe me Cromwell is not going to like you regardless. He’s a firm believer in reform but not in Anne. Besides…let him see us for what we are”

And with a wry grin that only served to make him look even more handsome than he was before and a hard grab at her backside that she was going to ignore she watched as he went to greet Lord Cromwell and she knew just like that this wonderful warm summer with her husband, daughter and new baby was over and the dark storm clouds that surrounded London were going to come crashing down around them once more.

Chapter Text

Her belly was round when she walked back into court. There was no mistaking it and she did not do much to hide it. The entire realm of Christendom had heard of her family by this point and though the three Boleyn sisters nothing but whores but she was right now the only one with a ring on her finger and a legitimate baby in her belly.

Anne met her with that guarded look and Beth looking at her knew that something was wrong.

She knew enough to know that Wolsey had been thrown down finally. He was banished from court as the case against Catherine progressed but the friendship between advisor and King was still strong. Henry would not move against him and Anne was determined that he would if not for old jealousies sake.

“Sister Duchess”

“Anne”

Because technically Beth outranked her sister she had to curtsy, lady to Duchess. From the slight bob of the knees and the fact that her sister scowled when she did it Beth took that to mean that Anne was not pleased.

“Sister the King and I welcome you to court”

Beth nodded.

“My husband the Duke and I are glad to be back” she said formally. Anne bit her lip and then jerked her head into the presence chamber that was once Wolsey’s and was now apparently hers. Beth nodded and they went into it away from the prying eyes of the court who had no doubt heard of the bust up between the two of them the last time and were hungry for more.

Anne shut the door and then turned and…

“I did not know father was going to hit you” she said finally. “I…I did not approve of that”

“I know”

Anne twisted her hands around themselves and Beth suddenly found she did not care. She had hated her sister, she had fought like hell with her sister, she had fought tooth and nail with her sister all the time. But at the same time Anne was her sister and in that contradictory way of loving each other they stood by each other come hell or high water. They were sisters. Born to love and hate each other in equal measure.

“Oh for pity’s sake come here”

She held out her arms and Anne scampered into them. They hugged and Beth could feel the bones in her sister’s shoulders and collarbones. It was as if she had not been eating. To be honest looking at her she looked tired and sick and—

“Charles told me it was bad in the country. I take it London is no exception?”

“They want Catherine as Queen” Anne said sitting down and Beth sat down too her hand on her belly. “They want her to stay the same. And to be honest sometimes I wonder…I love him Beth I really do and that was not something that I planned to do. I want him heart and soul and I want the crown too but…but it’s taking too long. The Cardinals are dithering and Wolsey is no help and Catherine just delays and delays and delays. I told her that I would send away Mary and she looked at me as if I was an ant on her shoe. And then I go back to the fact that she bore him six children and two sons died in the cradle and I don’t…” she shook her head. “Mary hates me, George is no help. Father…father pushes and pushes but short of having him fuck me I don’t know what more I can do! And if Henry has me then—”

“You think he will lose interest”

“He says he will not but I don’t know…Beth you have no idea what this is like…”

“You started it” Beth said unsympathetically. “I warned you how this would end so did Mary. He’s fickle on a good day even I knew that in France, you were better off like Mary getting two bastards and a good house down the line and then hopefully a good husband.” She tapped her nails on the table. “I can’t come with you to France”

“If Brandon is forbidding you—”

“I am pregnant Anne” she said flatly. “I will have a newborn I intend to go back to the country and be with for a little while. It has nothing to do with Charles I can assure you”

“You don’t want to stay at court?”

“No” she said. “It’s…it’s…” she knew Anne could not understand it. The three of them, the Boleyn sisters had been raised in various royal courts all their lives. They had been shipped off to France and Navarre when they were four, had doubled back to the main court of France when they were ten and then finally when they had been old enough had come back to England. They had lived their lives on the court coin. Before she had married Anthony Beth could count the number of times she had been in the country on one hand and nearly all of them had involved progress.

“It’s nice in the country” she said finally. “You have to be there to understand it but Charles and Ellie and I…it’s nice, peaceful, you feel like court cannot touch you”

Anne looked at her like she was insane for a second and then.

“I don’t know how you can stand to be away…” she tapped her own nails on the table and then…

“Is he really that good in bed?”

Beth laughed.

It was such a…well…an Anne thing to say really wasn’t it?

“He’s better” she said and Anne finally managed to crack a smile and call for some wine.

“You know I am thinking we might have to be here for the birth of the babe” Charles said finally staring into the fire with a look of irritation.

“I figured as much. How was the King?”

“Idiotic”

“Hush” she said at once with a look at the door. Charles with all the recklessness of someone who knew the King when he had been a Prince rolled his eyes but Beth couldn’t help but feel that one day there would be a real chance that what he had just said would turn into treason and she shuddered even though the room was quite warm.

“What do you think is going to happen?”

“I don’t know. Your six months along I don’t like the idea of you travelling back to the country alone—”

“Charles I can have the baby here”

Charles sighed.

“Henry is going to arrest Wolsey”

Beth nodded.

“When?”

“Soon…he’s…he’s putting it off until he has proof but between your father and sister there will be something coming. A plot no doubt that will bare their hand. Your father is not caring how many people he is isolating and I fear that dangerous. He thinks he can order me about and I swear Beth if he calls me son one more time I am going to break the fingers in his right hand”

Beth had a sudden image of that and had to hide her smile.

“Did he say anything about me?”

“No” he said shortly. He shot her a long look and then.

“Were you expecting him too?”

“Not really” Beth said sadly. “It just would have been nice.”

She stood in front of the fire looking at the crackling along the wood and Charles put his hand on her belly and kissed the baby inside of her through the thick gown.

Beth smiled.

She knew it did not meet her eyes.

Everything Anne had promised against Wolsey came true in the months that she was there at court. That being said not everything went her way. First the Lord Chancellorship went to Thomas Moore which she knew was really not what her sister, her brother or her father wanted. Thomas Moore was universally respected as a man of principal and thinking and there was no way in hell he was going to tell Henry to overthrow the Church’s authority. Moore might, just keep his mouth shut on Catherine and the marriage but Beth did not need Charles to tell her (grinning all the while) that this was very bad for her family.

“You know it’s all very good for you” she said finally. “If Anne fails I mean but she is my sister.”

Charles looked at her over his wine and…

“Do you want her to succeed?”

“I wish she’d have never started the whole fucking thing” Beth said stretching.

“I know” Charles said. “I meant—”

“Charles do you deny that he has to have a son”

“No” Charles said flatly. “I don’t”

“Can Catherine give him that?”

“Not now no”

“Then…why is it so wrong to have the marriage—”

“In principle it’s not” Charles said quietly. “And love Catherine as I do and you know I do if he was setting her aside for a French Princess or someone of note I might agree with it. But your sister is not the right woman to be Queen. He needs an ally that will counter again Spain and your sister cannot command Ambassadors and will not be respected by European Royalty. And that my dear is something that your father for all his talk cannot fix.”

Beth conceded the point.

“If she doesn’t get a son on her she will become nasty with Mary’s and with yours” Charles said flatly.

Beth nodded.

“If it’s a boy”

Charles grinned at her over the table. “I said” he said easily kicking his boots onto the table. “That as long as you come out of that bed happy and healthy I don’t care. Girl or boy.”

Charles was right.

The day she went into confinement her father came to see her with an arrest warrant for Wolsey.

“I hear you are to go into confinement” he said shortly.

“I am” she said using one of the girls in the room to lean on as she stood up. She felt bulky with this one and maybe it showed because he nodded awkwardly.

“I trust you will make me proud” he said and she paused.

“I cannot make it a boy by will” she said sardonically and he flashed her an odd look that might have been a smile if her father possessed the ability to smile at her which she was quite sure he did not.

“I know…” he trailed off and…

“Your mother” he said finally. “She was always confident with her predictions in the childbed. I thought you would be a boy but she was insistent you would be a girl”

Beth didn’t know what to say to that, her father had never spoken of her mother in any terms and certainly not to her, the person who had come away from that battle alive while her mother had died.

“You…you never remarried” she said finally.

“No” he said looking at her. “I had my wife you see…for better and for worse and we had moments of both but…I had my wife…I…I don’t like Brandon Elizabeth I think he is a rogue and an upstart but then again so are we. I think he is dangerous to this family…but…but I will concede if you were going to run off with someone he is not the worst. A Duke is a boon to any family and Brandon for all his faults and I can assure you that there are many…he seems to…care for you”

“He does”

“He takes mistresses the way Moore takes Mass” her father said disparagingly. “I wouldn’t hold out hope”

She ignored the jibe.

Her father opened his mouth as if he was teetering on the edge of something and then suddenly he nodded and then he was gone and she was left to wonder (not for the first time) what the hell he was on about.

They sent Henry Percy to arrest Wolsey. Beth didn’t know the story but Charles did and he had to admit he conceded a smile that it was the boy that Anne Boleyn had loved who told the man that had forcibly parted them that her vengeance had come at last. It was nobody’s fault that Wolsey saw the writing on the wall and took his own life. It was covered beautifully by Henry as his heart gave out but Charles ever doing the dirty work of his King saw the body and knew what he had done and why. It was a magnificent insult to Anne to take away her joy at seeing him dangle from the noose. It was also a tragic way for a life to end.

Charles had to give the man credit.

He had left Anne Boleyn short of her triumph and that, that was a beautiful thing to behold.

Her pains started the day that the court threw a masque for the barely dead Cardinal. They called it Cardinal Wolsey and the Dragging Down to Hell or some such horrible thing. Beth giving birth did not get to see Anne and George blacken their faces and dance around like children nor did she get to see Mary’s look of horror or the way their father clapped and cheered. Cromwell went straight to Church to pray and found Queen Catherine there in a moment of solidarity. And Charles was outside her door with a goblet of wine feeling sick at it all. Henry was nowhere to be seen.

This was her second labour and it was showing. She had been half in and out of consciousness and recently widowed with her first child. This time she was fully aware of what was happening.

It was a sixteen hour labour but at the end it was surprisingly quick. Once the midwife could see the head the rest followed quickly. It was just the labour she was told to get the baby in position that took time.

At the end of it though was her boy.

A boy.

He was a fine little boy she thought looking at him. He had his father’s curly brown hair and his eyes and she thought he would be the spitting image of Charles. Charles outside came crashing into the room uncaring of the midwifes scandalised looks, threw them all out and held him in his arms shaking a little.

“Charles” she said.

“Darling—”

“His name is Charles, we can call him Charlie”

She caught his eyes and he smiled his expression overbright. Beth grinned back half drunk on the birthing wine.

“Charlie Brandon heh?” Charles said looking down at his son. “You’re a fine little lad aren’t you?”

Beth leaned back on the pillows and watched her boys.

She knew she was content.

Chapter Text

He had been foolish.

Lulled by a false sense of security that came when you had a son in a cradle, a wife who you adored and a happy life Charles had failed to miss the signs.

He had been lulled into this false state by love. His baby son they had called Charlie was adorable, big blue eyes like his mother but with a shock of dark hair and tiny fingernails. He had never held a baby before. He had come close with some of Henrys but they had died before he could and if he was being honest he had never thought much of the Princess surviving into adult hood given how quickly her brothers departed this earth.

But now…now he held Charlie all the time, he held him close and rocked him, soothed him, Beth wanted her children close and so they sent for Ellie and for a few days it was the two of them, the court was not making a plan to go on progress and Charles found he did not care. At night he held his son Ellie slept between the two of them and he knew looking at his wife with her dark blonde hair spread about the pillow that he was a man blessed indeed.

He also knew looking at his wife with her dark blonde hair spread about the pillow that he was going to have to put another one in her as soon as possible. He did not know when the best time to start their marital relations was but he knew enough to know that he was going to have to put another child in her because right now with her little fat belly and her milky breasts and her soft gaze in the morning she had never been as desirable to him as she had been now. He had never known a woman who had managed to make him feel desire such as this, happiness such as this, completion such as this…it was all rather new to him.

And so lulled by his false sense of security he did not see what was happening in front of him. When his wife returned to court in her blue gown her belly still soft with childbirth he was too in awe of her to see that the court was disintegrating without the Queen running it. He bore the terrible awkwardness of Anne Boleyn who clearly did not know how to play her fertile Duchess sister with her son on the chessboard, he endured the decent tenderness of Mary Boleyn who had become her sister’s dearest friend and he managed to get through dinner with his brother and father in law without slitting their throats and even managed to put up with Henry who had with a terrible face value congratulated him on the birth of his son.

He had not seen it coming.

Even when Cromwell had muttered that the mood of the country was turning against Anne Boleyn he had not seen it, even when he had seen the increased guard at the palace gates he had not seen it, even when he had been told that they were not going on progress because the mood of the country could not be trusted he had not seen it.

It had come to a glaring head when he had gone with Anne, Mary and Beth to dinner with the Trevelyan’s who were a minor London family but had extended an invitation. He had only gone because he was the only gentleman in the family, both Boleyn’s had begged off and while the three sisters though there was something funny about cavorting through the streets of London unaccompanied and alone Charles most certainly did not.

If no man would step in for his wife and her two sisters then he would even though he really did not want to. It was he told Beth as she brushed her hair to get ready, a sad day in England when he was the one acting as the most responsible man in the room.

Beth’s response had been to throw her hairbrush at him and Charles had caught it easily and grinned at her and the two of them had been late to the barge because he’d had her up by the wall three fingers deep in her cunt before she could walk again.

Anne scowled at him as if she knew damn well why he was late but Charles ignored her.

Anne was still sounding him out that much was clear and he was enjoying himself immensely in confusing the hell out of her. She had not moved against their son or the fact they both expected to spend summer with their children but he was waiting for it and he was ready.

Let her try.

Charles Brandon protected his own in the very same way the devil did.

Said reverently of course.

The dinner at the Trevelyan’s was nice. It was simple but nice and Charles who had no plans to eat a big meal found roast chicken to be a simple affair with good wine and good company. It even managed to distract him from the presence of Anne who seemed to once again revel at being the centre of attention.

He could not help but feel like these were their people. Anne, Beth and Mary and him…they had been born thoroughly middle class and it was only through gritted teeth, sheer force of ambition, good looks and no shortage of good look that they had gotten to this point. Him a Duke, Beth a Duchess, Anne about to be Queen.

If the Plantagenets could see them now….

Then again…the York side of that family had been the biggest upstarts of them all.

They were just turning to wine and sweetmeats when a page boy came in claiming there was a mob ready to hang Anne at the rafters. Charles pushed aside his plate—one look at Anne and she was white around the mouth. Mary gasped reaching for her sister and he turned to look at his wife.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“My God” Lord Trevelyn said looking ashen. “You had better be off with you Lady Anne.”

“Surely you have guards?” she asked.

He looked at her blankly.

“The mob is eight thousand Lady Anne and they intend to hang you from the rafters, they’ve even brought the ropes.”

There was a terrible silence.

Charles watched her and then slowly she turned to him.

If his wife and the mother of his son was not in the room he would have savoured this, but Beth was by his side and…and he had to confess that he did not have a plan.

“We must separate. Anne you need to go with your sister and pretend to be maids, slip out the back. Lady Carey do you know your way back with the maids, you can present as a group—”

Perhaps he had misjudged Mary Boleyn. She nodded her face as white as the milk but she was resolute. They had not taken any experienced maids, indeed none of the greater woman of the kingdom would wait on Anne Boleyn. Instead they had the hangers on, the Seymour girls and the younger maids all of whom were too terrified and too young to be much help.

“Why are we going separately—”

“Because they know I am here, and we will got a separate way and then we can meet up at the Palace. They are not going to make war on a group of woman and a man and a woman in the dark will not make a difference. Trevelyan we need a man to escort the ladies back to the gate, my wife and I will make it home separately”

In truth it was a desperate, stupid plan where a thousand and one things could go wrong.

But it was all he had.

He thrust Beth out the door in front of him and down the path into the darkness. Beth was silent next to him as they walked. They dodged backwards into the crooks and crannies and he saw the tall man leading more ladies out to mingle in the crowd.

“They are really going to kill her” Beth said quietly as they pushed out of the crowd erecting a noose with a chant of ‘Hang The Whore’ growing by the hour.

“Aye” Charles said with little sympathy. “We have to go”

“Where?”

“St Margarets Crypt. I cannot risk taking you back to the Palace just yet”

“Why?”

“Because this is eight thousand deep and soon to be ten, half of London is up and I don’t want to risk us getting separated.”

“And my sisters”

“Do you know I couldn’t care less if they hang her”

She turned to look at him.

“Charles”

“When we are back we are waiting out the summer in the country—”

“Charles she is my sister”

“And she will be your undoing, her own undoing, yours and this countries. You cannot agree with this Beth, I know you, you cannot think that this is a good thing”

“No” Beth said quietly. “No I do not…but Charles she is my sister”

“She is a vindictive little witch” Charles said quietly. “I know…I know she is your sister and I understand that my love but I have had enough. I will not see you and the children to ridicule and ruin by this woman”

And with that he pushed her towards the priory and she went.

Sanctuary.

Henry had told him about it once, had told him about sanctuary and his mother and grandmother the famed White Witch of York. Personally Charles thought looking around the crypt one had to give Elizabeth Woodville credit. She had raised her family here, given birth here, died here and had masterminded hundreds of plots here as well. She had been a dogged survivor of the House of York. While Charles had never met her he had to conclude that if she was the witch Henry thought she was a little bit of magic to get rid of the Boleyn’s would be useful right about now.

Beth pulled her headdress down and there was a bang on the window from the mob still outside. She flinched back and Charles pulled her backwards into his arms.

“I didn’t think it would come to this” she said finally. “I didn’t…I don’t want this…I don’t want to be in a country where this can happen”

“Well I would recommend Spain but I hear it can happen there as well” Charles deadpanned, he kissed the top of her head and sighed turning and sitting on one of the boxes in the corner.

“We made love here remember? The first time after our wedding?”

“I remember” he said grinning. “Quite the first impression you made their love I have to say”

She flashed him a smile.

“I know you don’t love Anne”

“I love you” he ruled. “And I can tolerate her most of the time but I will not have her putting you in danger and that is what she does. I want us to raise our children in the country for a while”

“You would leave Henry?”

“If he wants to hang himself fair enough he doesn’t need me to do it”

She sighed and came to stand in between his legs, he pulled her onto his lap and brushed back some of the blonde hair.

“Take me back to the country” she said quietly. “Get me pregnant again, get me a nursery of four boys and let Queen Anne be done”

He nodded as he pushed her skirts up so her smooth knees were in the bare air. She had his hose open and she had positioned herself so that he was in her and she gave a shudder at his sigh.

“I had not wanted to rush you” he said eyes closed as she fluttered around him.

Beth laughed.

“You are not” she said quietly. “I have longed for you just as much and if the rebels were to come through the door I would have you pass me the sword so I can cut them down”

“Sweetheart” he growled. “If one of those grubby peasants so much as looks at you wrong I will have their head separated from their bodies.” S

She laughed.

“You would do that for me?”

He looked up at her and the moon was shining on her face. The danger such as it was seemed very far away, court seemed very far away and the people within it.

It was just her and him.

“I would slay all who attempted to pull you from my arms”

She blinked looking at him with such softness there was nothing that he could do but gaze upon her. He reached out and tugged her back to him and smiled.

She smiled too.

And they carried on in their own little world while the one outside this sanctuary burned down around them.

Chapter Text

Charles was almost glad not to be in France.

Not that it was France after all. It was not France it was Calais. And it was a terrible mockery of what had gone before. Charles was glad to be well shot of it and there was never any better reason than for his wife to be with child. The night in the crypt had seen her pregnant before they had even gotten back to Suffolk House and once there Charles had made it clear that he did not intend to move. His lands needed to be in good order and besides…Henry did not need him. Anne was at her most unstoppable and also at her most unstable and he did not want to see it. She had taken Catherine’s jewels and sent her away from court, had taken the cornet of the Princess Mary and was on her way to taking their titles and for all the world he would smack her for that bit of spite. Catherine would never been anything but Queen of England not this Dowager Princess of Wales horror. He knew Catherine well enough to know that she would never agree to that and he knew the Princess Mary would never agree to be Lady Mary Tudor. There was no way that she was going to come to court and curtsey to Anne Boleyn as Queen. She was way too much her mother’s daughter for that.

So he was glad to not go to court or follow Henry into the unending manic state that he was in now that the shine was being rubbed of the silver. Instead he turned his attention to his lands and his children and his wife as Anne met the King of France in secret in Calais because no true born Royal woman of Europe would go within ten feet of the concubine that thought she could be Queen.

Beth said nothing of this. Mary Carey was forced to go to France with her sister and George Boleyn and that insipid wife was never far behind, Thomas Boleyn still had his head in the trough and so that left Beth in England her belly big with child as the summer rolled over once more.

With Charlie and Ellie both toddling around now he found that he was enjoying spending time outside with them. Summer was hot and Beth preferred to be in her cool chambers and she had asked for the water fountain to be placed in her room so she could listen to the dripping soothing sound in her confinement. Personally Charles thought that that noise led him to constantly want to piss but that was him and this second pregnancy had taught him not to criticize his wife in any way shape or form.

At the end of a two day labour there was a darling treasure of a baby boy. Another baby boy Brandon and this time they called him Henry. They agreed as with Charlie he would be Harry but Charles knew the snub from her sister in France had not gone unnoticed by his wife no matter how little she seemed to care for it.

“You know” she said as she fed Harry (Beth refused to let a wet nurse near their children insisting that she suckle them herself and Charles was not one to deny her anything) “I wish sometimes that we could never go back. Just stay here int his house with our gardens and our peasants and just keep making babies”

Charles laughed.

“Darling if that is what you want then I will keep putting them in you”

Beth smirked at him kissing their son’s hand. This boy was all Beth Boleyn right down to the blonde hair and docile temperament (at least for now).

“I heard nothing from my father, two grandsons you would think he would be happy”

“Doesn’t want to draw attention to it would be my bet” Charles said going through his correspondence.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t want Henry to think he backed the wrong horse. You have three healthy children and two of them boys and Mary has got a boy and that boy with the King. There is no doubt that people will wonder why he chose Anne when at the very least he could have legitimised Mary’s boy if not yours”

“Politics” Beth said with scorn. “Even when I was at court I did not care for the intricacies” she looked up at Charles and smiled her baby still latched on her tit.

“Are you happy though?”

Charles thought over what a summer this had been, Ellie was now in dresses her golden curls cut and a baby no more but a sturdy chid of five. Charlie toddled after her on gangly feet already at Charles knee and knowing who his father was, he had another son for the growing land that he was building and keeping in good prospects, there was a growing unease in the Kingdom but that did not seem to touch them out here and his wife…

Well…his wife was arguably the most attractive woman that the Good Lord had ever put his hand to creating and she loved him for reasons beyond his understanding.

And Charles?

Well…Charles was undoubtably madly, passionately never endingly in love with her.

“I am happy here” he said reaching forwards to kiss her softly over Harry’s little head. “I am very happy with you.”

“I am happy too” Beth said quietly with a grin. “And if Anne God Willing pops out a couple of sons I think…I would quite like to stay here for longer. Court is such a dark and twisted place Charles I feel…I feel myself getting older when I am there, tired…when the King’s line is secure through my sister I want to come here and stay here.”

Charles rested his forehead against hers.

“I like that idea” he said quietly.

He could not tell his wife about the complicated feelings that he had for her sister. Anne was a topic that he could not go near for the sake of his happy marriage.

Three months later he got a note in the post, post haste by the King’s Messenger.

He stared at it for several moments and then he slowly walked to the fire and dropped the note into the flames. He stared at the curling parchment and then he stared into the flames for a long time trying to make it so that he could look something other than totally devastated by the news.

“Papa!”

He turned and looked at Ellie who was coming into his room sturdy little boots on the floor.

“Hello Ellie-girl”

“Lady Mother wants to know if you are coming to join is?”

“Where is she?”

“With Charlie and Harry. Charlie wants to ride the pony…can I have a horse this year?”

He chuckled.

“I think you are still a bit too young for a horse my darling girl. How about we go riding this evening though after dinner and I let you jump Jasper over a hedge”

Ellie grinned her whole face splitting open and she jumped up and down boots clacking on the wood that had him grinning despite the news he had been given.

“Thank you Papa”

“You’re welcome my darling.”

There was a moment and then.

“Ellie?”

“Papa?”

“Come give me a hug. Papa needs one of your special hugs”

“Has something happened to the King?”

“The King?”

Ellie shrugged already skipping into his arms. He pulled her onto his lap and let her cuddle into his chest.

“Well…I heard two of the servants say the King is under a spell”

Shit.

SHIT.

“Eleanor” he says sternly. “You must not repeat such things to anyone. Only to me and your mother and we will deal with them. The King is not under a spell and he is in good health and we thank God for the rest. You must not listen to ideal servant gossips and you must not think such things. His Majesty will be most displeased to hear of them”

“I didn’t say I believed them!”

“I know sweetheart” he said tightening his arms around her little shoulders. “I know you did not…I…forgive me”

Ellie sighed and leaned into his arms. Sometimes the girl was so like Anthony it was unnerving. Charles dreaded to think what Anthony would say if he could see the state of the country that had once been ruled by the Golden King who had made him a Knight on the jousting field and Charles a Duke by the Lily Pad Pond.

“Do you know who said it?”

“Aye and I will have them both dismissed tomorrow. I will also instruct the servants, I don’t…I don’t want any gossip getting back to the children. Ellie is of an age where she can easily misinterpret things…I cannot tell you—”

Beth held up a hand and shook her head. Charles took it kissed it and placed it on his chest to let it ground the fear.

“I know…I know my love…things are more dangerous…I know that Cromwell is lurking in the shadows—”

“It’s more”

She turned her head to look up at him. She was wearing only her lace and pearl robe and for all the money in the world he would tip her back onto the bed and slowly pull all that enticing lace off her bit by bit. She was still not ready for lovemaking yet but he found that he could still pleasure her with his mouth and fingers and she had developed a love of wrapping her own mouth around his cock a little whorish trick that he delighted in his wife giving him from time to time.

But he had to give her the news now.

“We are to return to court” he said shortly. “Henry’s orders. He wants us both at St Margaret’s Crypt in a weeks time”

“That’s a hard ride” she said looking at him. “Why?”

“Because he is going to marry her”

“Anne?”

“No Mary! Yes Anne”

Beth blinked at him and then scoffed.

“Oh Charles please he has been trying to marry her for nearly five years—”

“He is going to do it now”

“He…” she looked at him and he saw the moment that it settled in her face that he was telling the truth.

“I don’t—he can’t?”

“He can”

“Charles the Pope has not yet ruled on the marriage, he…he is still legally married to Catherine—”

“He is going to declare himself Head of the Church”

Beth stared at him.

“Head of what Church?”

“A Church of England. His Church. We are not to be in dept to the Pope. Henry…Henry calls him the Bishop of Rome and—”

Beth who was not what one would call religious crossed herself and Charles resisted the urge to do the same.

“He cannot set himself up as Pope”

“He can”

“Anne…Anne agrees with this?”

“If it makes her Queen—”

Beth sat there and then she wrapped her arms around her legs.

“Holy shit. He is really going to do it, she is really going to let…he…he will break the Catholic Church he will…the Bishops cannot support this surely?”

“Moore won’t. Fisher won’t. Kramer will make it possible”

She swore.

“Fucking hell”

“I know” he said at her blasphemy.

“Why not wait? He must know that he is dancing around a Bull of Excommunication? Even I know that, father, George, Uncle Howard, everyone knows that if he pushes too far Francis or the Holy Roman Empire gets a mandate to come over and sort us out and then that’s the end of this country. He…even the King…”

“Who is going to tell him” Charles said flatly. The sense of horror at what the world was going to come to was strong and he sat down on the bed and stared at her taking her hand in his.

“Wolsey is dead, Buckingham is dead, Moore is in exile, Fisher is in exile. Cromwell is not going to tell him no is he? Anne is not going to tell him no. Catherine is banished. The Plantagenets are defeated…I…cannot tell him what to do I never could even when he was in love with Catherine. His mother is dead, his father, his grandmother, Arthur…all the people who could tell him no are dead. Your sister is not going to tell him no when she can finally get that crown on her head—he has killed or banished everyone and anyone who could tell him no.”

He looked out over the open window to the cool air. Summer was fading and soon it would be autumn and then winter.

There was no better metaphor for what had happened here.

“Why now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why…I know my sister Charles she has done this merry dance for nearly six years and she stared when he was in love with his first wife or at the very least a content companionship so why now?”

Charles turned to look at her and she looked back and he saw her eyes flicker as she read his face. The most obvious reason why it had to be now was written all over his face, the reason why they were being sent to court, the reason why the Boleyn’s and the men loyal to Henry were going to London as if defending a city to siege.

“Oh my God” Beth said softly.

“Yes” Charles said thinking with a hint of recklessness that God was no doubt having a right laugh at this mess that they had found themselves in right about now.

“Yes” he said again into the bedchamber that had suddenly gotten very cold despite the warm temperatures.

“Your sister is with child. You are going to be Aunt to the next King of England my dear. And the battle for the soul of this country I fear is about to begin in earnest…”

And there was nothing that Beth could say to that.

Nothing Charles could say either.

That was the true tragedy of the thing.

Chapter Text

They made it back to court by the skin of their teeth. It was only it seemed to be them. It some hidden dark back alley where Henry was prowling demanding to know where Brandon was and her sister half hidden in a white dress wearing a little crown looking as demure as milk and Kramer the oldest fraud in the book holding his twisted version of the Bible and Beth who had this look of what the fuck am I doing here?

Charles could understand the sentiment even as Henry’s dig in the stomach of greeting held an inch of warning that he was not to interrupt.

And there it was, there is happened. Anne Boleyn the merchants granddaughter, the sister of a whore and the sister of a Duchess married the King of England even though his wife was still alive somewhere in the country. Her belly was just beginning to curve and Charles felt his lip curl along with it.

He did not wish for a dead child. Firstly he was not that cruel even were Anne was concerned. He had seen Catherine’s five heartbreaks and distracted her husband enough time so that she could attempt to plaster on a smile later at dinner for him. He had seen Henry’s heartbreaks over the loss of those two boys he had wanted more than life itself. He could not wish for a dead baby when he had two boys back home and a daughter that was all that he had left of one of his dearest friends. And Charles despite it all was a god fearing man…mostly. So he could not wish for a dead baby but by God when he looked at the smugness on Anne Boleyn’s face he wished for an army of girls and with any look that was what he would get.

The news that they were married went down in court like a shocked gasp. There was no cheer and no delight. People watched Anne with a sort of avid curiosity. The Spanish Ambassador called her The Lady with such a sneer that everyone knew he meant The Whore. The King himself seemed to be impervious to this avid hatred but if the court was bad then even he could not delude himself with the common folk who were openly hostile. Not even Cromwell’s printing press could tackle the hatred that was London.

London by default liked a pretty girl and a scandal. When Jacquetta Woodville Dowager Duchess of Bedford, the second woman in England and he first in France had ran off with her husband’s squire it was alright because she had been beautiful. When Edward IV had married the nobody and born again witch Elizabeth Woodville early in his reign it had been a delight because she was beautiful, when Elizabeth of York had ridden through the streets people cheered her, when Catherine had arrived people had adored her, even Beth who was half Boleyn got a few smiles simply because Beth was too pretty to look away from (Charles should know after all) but with Anne…

Well…

It was a silent coronation broken only by what he suspected was an assassin. Anne did everything right it had to be said but the people were silent, scowling, disrespectful. Nobody put themselves up to be martyred but not even Henry at his most obtuse could get over the fact that the people of London were not impressed. And if this was how London was Charles did not hold out much hope for the country.

Beth was silent that night in the Tower as they prepared for the coronation.

“Moore and Fisher are here somewhere” she said finally.

“I know”

She reached out to touch him and he found himself flinching away.

“Sorry” he said quietly. “Sorry I just…this has been…I was here when Catherine was joint crowned with him and I…”

Beth did not look totally annoyed that he did not want a Boleyn touching him tonight but she did not look happy.

“Do you want me to go?”

“Go where?”

“I can sleep with Mary for the night”

“Oh yes” Charles said scathingly. “That would be a great amount of gossip wouldn’t it”

“Charles I am not my sister!”

“I know, I know but….Christ sometimes the fact that—”

“That you married me?”

“No that I married your family…it annoys the shit out of me”

“Well you didn’t marry my family Charles I was under the impression that you married me” she said waspishly and then she was throwing on a robe and then she was gone and Charles resisted the urge to scream and instead went to throw back another goblet of wine down his throat.

She stormed off to see Mary who was sleeping alone.

Or so she thought when the door opened a crack and she saw her sister and the long line of a man in her bed.

“Do I want to know?” she asked flatly and Mary made a shushing noise and dragged her into the room.

William Stafford was in Mary’s bed completely naked save for a sheet over his cock and he was staring at her with wide eyes. Mary was not much better and now that Beth could see her she could see the large shape of her breasts underneath her robe and the way she held herself and—

“Oh Holy Hell are you pregnant too?”

“Yes” Mary said sitting down on the bed. “And I am married”

“When did this happen?”

“Four months ago when William went to his farm, I followed him”

“Did you?”

“You were in the country with your children”

Beth thought about it and raised one eyebrow and then. “If you say so” she eyed William Stafford for a long moment and took in his curly light brown hair his soldiers slim build and the tightness of the muscles on his chest and she concluded that he was pretty to look at.

Not Charles but pretty enough.

“Hello” she said though this was totally absurd. “Beth Boylen”

“I am aware your Grace” he said with an amused flicker of the eyes and he bent and took her hand and kissed it.

“So—”

But there was another knock at the door and Mary went to open it and Charles pushed past her.

“You cannot do that, you cannot go wandering around the corridors in your nightgown and—what the hell?”

“Oh wonderful” Mary muttered slamming the deadbolt shut. “Tell my your Grace does the King follow you? Are we having a party?”

Charles blinked at the sarcasm and then…

“Huh?”

“William Stafford your Grace we met—”

“Jousting, horses yes I remember”

“He’s Mary’s husband”

“Who—oh—”

Beth nodded.

Charles grinned.

“Many happy years ahead of you” he said grinning. “A solider, a Duke and a King your father is going to be thrilled”

“And all three of you womanising curs” Mary muttered. William Stafford shared a grin with Charles that was wholly unrepentant in this the age of men and then he pulled Mary down to his side.

“Not anymore” he said. “Speaking for the two men in the room one would think that when we have the right woman…we know”

Charles shot him an appraising king of look and Beth knew that he liked him. Charles was too much a commoner at heart rather than an arty farty noble. Her husband was not going to put up with flowery talk. So it seemed neither did William Stafford.

“Anyway” Charles said. “You can’t go wandering around the Tower in your nightgown just because we’ve had a domestic”

“Been there” William Stafford muttered. Mary rolled her eyes.

“I am not wandering, you just don’t like the fact that Anne is Queen. Don’t take that out on me Charles I am hardly thrilled with the conclusion to this affair either”

“I doubt anyone is” William Stafford said casually. He turned and Beth got a look of tight back muscles as he reached for his pipe. He lit the tabaco and breathed in and out and then passed it to Charles who sighed and sat down on the bed still half dressed and had a puff himself. Mary rolled her eyes and went in service of wine and Beth realised that they were actually going to do this, the two Boleyn girls, the ex commoner turned Duke and the secret solider were going to spend the night of Anne’s coronation getting drunk and smoking cheap tabaco.

Gods if Queen Catherine could see them now.

“It wasn’t good today” William Stafford said stretching as Mary curled up by his side.

“No it bloody well wasn’t” Charles muttered.

“Any idea on the shooting?”

Charles shrugged. “Half the country wants her dead. If Cromwell wants to find out who did it he is more than welcome too but he is not using me to do it. I want to get back to the country as soon as I can”

“You mean before Moore and Fisher got to trial”

“Who says it will come to that?”

“It will have too” William Stafford said darkly. “No other way to get around it. I didn’t think he would dare but he has arrested him so why not put them both on trial.”

“He won’t do anything” Beth said quietly. “One is the most respected Churchman in the country and the other the Lord Chancellor, the most respected theologian in the country and his dearest friend. He’ll keep them in there to teach them a lesson and then let them bow out to graceful retirement. Moore might do it as well. Fisher at the very most could get exile, get him sent to Rome and have him be happy there”

Mary nodded and then the conversation turned off worldly things.

But both William Stafford and Charles Brandon were men of the world and men of the court and they shared a look with each other and they both knew the ring of an utterly empty hollow talking point.

Because they both knew what was coming.

But they were both men who loved their wives and there was very little that could be done to tell them that the thing they thought impossible was actually possible.

On September 7^th 1533 Anne Boleyn Queen of England went into labour. Both of her sisters were there though Mary was pregnant and Beth was not. It was clear that soon the secret marriage between Mary and her soldier was going to come out but at that moment Anne seemed to be blind to anything other than her own pain. It was a long and arduous labour that was back breaking and at the end of it the midwife with a look of amusement said it was a girl.

Anne collapsed in horror. Mary caught Beth’s eye. Even Beth who considered any birth of a child alive a good thing had to admit she felt a slither of horror. She could not help but realise in this given moment just how much everyone in her family had staked their hopes on this being a boy. Mary even bloody crossed herself!

Mary went to her husband out the back door as soon as she could and Beth watched as the King came in. Charles was behind him smooth courtier face in place. Her father was furious she could tell. Two daughters and both of them had, had sons and neither one of them was on the throne.

She had to give Henry some kind of credit, he was tender to Anne, tender with the baby who was going to be called Elizabeth after his mother, the child had hair as red as carrots and a temper to match and Anne held her like a lifeline but her father did not glance at the baby after the King had left. He looked at his daughter and then.

“The next one better be a boy”

And then he was gone and George with him. Charles dithered for a second and then.

“She’s healthy” he said to Anne who looked at him her legs still coated in blood her body shaking with the aftershock and her face damp with sweat. With a sick sense of horror Beth realised that Anne was taking comfort from Charles and that Charles who called her sister the whore whenever he thought she wasn’t listening was giving her comfort.

It was all too much.

“She’s healthy” Charles said. “And it’s clear that she is his daughter. That should detract the gossips.” He shrugged. “You might even like having a girl. I do”

He met her eyes.

“I will be in our rooms when you are ready” he said and then he was gone. Anne watched him go and then sniffed and looked up at Beth and it was as if the rolls were reversed and she was the eldest sister and not the youngest.

Beth brushed back some of the dark hair.

“He’s right” she said soothingly. “He’s right, it does matter that she is healthy. And the next time you can have a boy and two healthy children will cement you on the throne”

Anne made a gesturing noise still clutching Elizabeth in her arms and Beth bent, Anne pulled off her hood so the gold hair was loose and Beth moved it so that it was covering her face, Anne’s face and the baby in a shroud of gold so that none of the gossiping midwives could see or hear what was happening or what was being said.

“But what if he can’t” she whispered. “He never could with her…what if he can’t have a healthy baby boy with me? What happens then Beth? What happens to me then?”

Chapter Text

Elizabeth the child was to be called.

“After you?” Charles asked.

“After his mother”

“Oh” Charles said stretching out his hand on her belly where another life was growing. “That’s nice I suppose”

“Do you remember The King’s Mother?” Beth asked curiously. One of the perks of having a husband who was older than she was, was that he remembered things.

“Not really” Charles said quietly. “I remember the grandmother more than anything else. Right old bitch she was”

“Charles”

“True” he said pressing a kiss to her belly and then to her.

“Anne is with child again” Beth said quietly.

“Aye. For now” Charles said and he didn’t say anything else. Beth didn’t know what to say to that.

They retired to the country that summer and they got only three letters the entire season and none of them contained good news. One from Cromwell announcing that the Dowager Princess of Wales, Queen Catherine of Aragon, the double royal Queen, the Infanta of Spain was dead.

She had died in utter poverty clinging to a cause that had been forgotten, her husband had married someone else, her child had been separated from her by the endless ambition of one ruthless woman and she had died with a blessing for Henry on her lips and for the friends and family that had abandoned her Charles included.

Beth said nothing when he read her the news. She watched him with her big blue eyes as he told her that the news from court was that Anne and Henry had dressed in yellow and danced at the Spanish Ambassadors expense and that Mary was not even allowed to go to the funeral. Anne was now Queen in all but the hearts and minds of the people and the court many of them disgusted by the treatment of the Queen and Charles left Beth with the children and went for a walk for most of the afternoon until his face was chapped with the cold and he knew that the tears were gone.

It was hard not to. Catherine had been the loving big sister to him. She had been the glamorous Princess come to visit. Charles could remember her in her veil with sickly Prince Arthur gaping at her like a fish. He could remember the five years of consistent waiting she had endured. He could close his eyes and remember the wedding feast. He could remember when she was pregnant with Harry’s first son, when Harry had been Harry and he had joked that the second one would be called Charles and Catherine had rolled her eyes. He could remember it all and to think that woman who had been so kind to him when he had been a flirt and a layabout for most of his life had been reduced to this without any common kindness was beyond the pale.

He came back and for the first time in his married life he slept in another bed. Beth said nothing her belly big the next day but she put her hand on his and then.

“I am going to take the children to mass for her” she said looking down at her eggs. “She was a good mistress to me even though I entered her service late.”

Charles nodded. Beth was too wise to ask if they were going to be okay. They would be because they had the kind of marriage that endured the never-ending cruelty of the Boleyn's and this new England that Henry was making.

And then the second letter came from Henry himself and he thrust it at his wife and gagged into the bowl. Beth read it and then slowly sat down her big belly straining in her gown. She was two days out from going into confinement and he knew he should not be telling her this but the news was so horrific he had to make sure that he was seeing it, that someone else was seeing it too. It had to be seen, to be read, to be believed.

“He’s beheaded Moore and Fisher” Beth said in a stunned tone. “I don’t…how?”  

“I didn’t think he would dare” Charles said wiping the back of his hand. “I didn’t…I thought…maybe Fisher but Thomas Moore” he sat down and shook his head shaking slightly and he took his wife’s hand in his. Beth gripped back and he knew her face was awash with as much horror as he felt.

Fisher had been the most respected churchman in the country. He had been a Cardinal made so by the Pope, he was the Confessor to two Queens of England one being Henry’s wife and one being Henry’s mother. He had been the confessor to Margaret Beaufort, he had been the help behind the mastermind of God only knows how many schemes to keep the Tudors on the throne…he had been there throughout thick and thin for most of Henry’s reign. He had christened and buried all the babies bar one. Charles had taken confession with him and Church with him and though not religious had found a simple pleasure in the way he spoke.

And Moore…

Jesus Christ what was Henry going to do without Thomas Moore? Thomas Moore who was the most respected theologian in the land? Who had written dozens of articles that would outlast them. Who had been a great Lord Chancellor, who had been at Henry’s side through thick and thin. Who had pioneered so much. Who had been so gentle and kind whenever Charles had needed it and nine times out of ten whenever he had not needed it.

Moore had been at Henry’s side as long as Catherine had. To lose both of them was a blow that Charles suspected that Henry had not considered. That the country had not considered. Because surely now it was excommunication and invasion? Surely it was that?

Right?

That was the end of their carefree summer. Those days changed them and changed England forever. Charles for once did not bother with his wife’s confinement and neither did she. They slept together as if they could not bare to be apart. He held her as if he could not stand to let her go, as if there was a hoard of Spanish waiting at the gates for them.

And the arrival of their third boy did nothing to ease matters.

“Anne has banished Mary from court” Beth said one day reading the third letter. “And…” she frowned. “She says…well that is not going to happen”

“What?”

“Father wants the boy to be called Thomas”

“Like fuc—”

“Children Charles” she said not looking up from her egg. Charles sighed and pulled a face at Ellie who was giggling. Now at the age of ten she was a stocky child with Anthony’s looks and Henry and Charlie were shooting up like weeds too. He was going to have to get them ponies this year and falcons and new boots.

“We agreed on William” Charles said bitingly

“I know” Beth said quietly. “She thinks it’s in tribute to Mary’s husband”

Charles rolled his eyes.

Beth put down the letter and then.

“Children why don’t you go and play outside in the sunshine before lessons?” 

They had three children under the age of eleven they did not need telling twice. Charles watched with his brow furrowed. He knew his wife had something she wanted to discuss without the children present but she had never been so transparent about it before.

“What?”

“Anne…I don’t know. She…she says she thought she was with child but she is mistaken”

“Mistaken?”

“Hmm…I…when we left after Elizabeth she was sure too and then mistaken. This is the second time and…”

“You would think seeing how much she has at stake on this she would get it right” Charles said buttering his toast nastily.

“I don’t think that’s the case. Anne thinks of this constantly. Mary and I…we don’t…were just…”

“As fertile as whores in the whorehouse”

Beth smirked at him slowly. “You never seemed to mind” she said slowly and Charles grinned back.

“No” he said smirking “I never have.” He leaned back on his chair. “It’s funny isn’t it? You have three sons, she has one girl, Mary has a son and a daughter and is pregnant with another and your brother cannot muster up one child. Right now the entirely of your father’s fortune goes to my son” he smirked over his toast.

“That must sting”

Beth rolled her eyes.

“I think…do you think she might have miscarried? And not told the King?”

“Twice?” Charles said rolling his eyes. “Nobody’s that careful my love”

Beth nodded.

She was not entirely convinced.

They had to return to court simply because Henry summoned Charles to his side for the privy council meeting. Beth when she got their went straight to see Anne. Anne for the most part sat in her receiving chamber looked at her with a cool expression and eyes that were too desperate for words.

“Ah Sister Duchess”

“Your Majesty” Beth said with her usual bob. “Sister Queen”

There was a ripple of amused laughter and Beth smiled. Anne did not. Her eyes flickered to the side and Beth followed looking through the gold net of her hood to see another lady in waiting stitching in the corner. Blonde, petite, boring and Beth turned her gaze back Anne as blue eyes snapped up to meet her.

“I would speak privately?”

“Of course” she said and Anne snapped her fingers for wine.

She shut the door on her bedchamber and collapsed onto the bed.

“Jesus Christ”

“We all warned you” Beth said unsympathetically sitting on the bed next to her. “We all warned you this was not going to be pleasant. You don’t marry a man like that for fun Anne”

“As opposed to you and Mary and your soldiers and your humping them in the stables”

“Don’t be bitter…whose the new one?”

“Who?”

“Don’t be coy Anne the new one, the one who looks like butter wouldn’t melt and you look like you want to kill her”

“Jane Seymour”

“Who?”

“John Seymour’s daughter.”

Charles had mentioned John Seymour once and that had been the end of that. All Beth knew about the family was they were large, two brothers at court and more at home and Jane was the oldest girl. John Seymour had been in France with her husband and her King when she had been serving the Queen of France but she had never met him.

“Henry wants her” Anne said staring at the ceiling. “She is counting on her virtue”

“Oh…so straight out of your playbook”

“As father has pointed out” Anne said flatly.

“You miscarried right” Beth said not looking at her. She felt rather than saw Anne nod.

“Both times?”

Again another nod.

“Shit”

“I have to get pregnant again”

“Don’t tell me that tell your husband”

“He cannot…it’s hard…he doesn’t always perform. It feels more like an act and not love now”

Beth was silent and then her hand scrambled across the gold covers of the bed and she found Anne’s hand and Anne gripped back so tightly that it hurt. She was afraid Beth thought. She laid down on the bed and wrapped her arms around Anne and Anne let her. Anne who was the strong one, Anne who was always there, the eldest letting the youngest comfort her. Anne who was her sister even though she was so much else to other people. Anne who needed her right now. And Anne who afraid and was letting Beth see it for the first time.

“I’m here now” she said into the dark hair as if it was Ellie with a nightmare. “I am here now” she said again. “Call Mary back”

“Can’t” came the muffled reply. Beth rolled her eyes.

“Call her back” she said sternly. “We are the three Boleyn girls Anne, let it be how we were in France and we can deal with the little bitches here like we did there. We are the three Boleyn girls. Let us be that once more and we can all have your back. Jane Parker is not going to do it is she? None of the twittering bitches can help. And George is about as much use as your chamber pot. Swallow your pride get Mary back and let’s formulate a plan”

She said these words sternly expecting as she did the pushback that Anne usually got to anyone’s advice other than her own but instead her sister sighed and turned into her lap and Beth knew as sure as if she had said it that her sister was in trouble, sad, sour, sick and very, achingly, lonely.

Mary was back at court within the month with her husband.

That was all that needed to be said.

Elizabeth’s birthday had everyone coming up to Hatfield. Charles had relented and allowed the children to come even though he refused to allow the boys near their grandfather. Ellie at nearly eleven was silently appreciative but as Henry and the boys had a mock joust and Anne in a gold down and a headdress that was ridiculous danced around Charles found her side.

“She looks happier” he said casually. “John Seymour has retired to the country for his health, his sons are championing the cause”

“Are they” she said dryly.

“Henry’s a man of two minds. One hand Anne is Anne. On the other hand…Anne is Anne” he said grinning.

“You make no sense” Beth said to him and he grinned. “I know” he said kissing her softly and she grinned into it melting against his touch regardless of how much in public they were.

“My father is watching” she said pulling back.

“Aye” Charles said. “You think I should grab your arse then—”

She smacked him and he grinned and…

“Mother?”

She turned to see Ellie there.

“Hello Elle”

“When can I come here with you full time?”

“Where?”

“Court”

Charles snorted. “Never” he said under his breath but Beth ignored him.

“You want to come to court”

“Yes” Eleanor said nodding her head in a move that reminded her achingly of Anthony Knivert.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be” Charles muttered.

“Still” Beth muttered.

“Your father and I will discuss it” she said to Eleanor. “Now go and play”

Eleanor did beaming running away.

“You know if she comes to court with us we can watch her” Beth said to Charles. “And she’s young enough where nobody will notice her”

“She’s her mother’s daughter through and through” Charles said grimy. “The bastards will notice her my darling”

“Your overprotective father act is rather sexy”

“This isn’t an act” he said firmly.

“Charles!” Henry called.

“Bloody hell” Charles muttered with a kiss to her and then he went in search of the king. Beth stood there watching and then.

“Elizabeth”

“Father”

Christ where had he come from?

“All well with he Duke?”

“All is always well with the Duke”

Her father sighed. He was beaming.

“What?” Beth said looking at him curiously.

“Anne is with child once more”

Beth’s first reaction was to ask how but she was not that stupid. She had not been under the impression that Anne had been intimate with the King for weeks but then again…Anne was the mistress of mystery.

“Good” she said but he seemed lost in his own world.

“Finally” he said. “I can have a grandson”

“You have four” she snapped. “Mary has one, I have three remember”

“A real grandson” he corrected her as if she was the one being stupid and he was not the one who had insulted four innocent children, their mothers and their fathers. “Not some mongral Brandon”

She gritted her teeth.

“Is it not enough to want your children happy?” she asked randomly.

Her father turned to look at her in a rare moment of interest and surprise.

“No” he said truthfully. “You are my children, you are my stepping stones to greatness. You are my legacy. Happiness will not get the Boleyn name down in the history books for generations of children to learn, happiness will not get our blood on the throne. Happiness will not have me where I am supposed to be. You are my children. I feed you and house you and clothe you and you go out into the world and you make my life advantageous”

“We did that” she felt compelled to say. “Anne is Queen, I am a Duchess, Mary was the King’s whore at your command. George is…well…Viscount Rochford. You are a Lord. What more do you want?”

“More” he said smugly. “More of everything. And I do not forgive or forget. You could have had a French Prince. Mary could have had a noble. But this grandson will be King of England. That will be enough to forget about the rest” and then he was gone before Beth could say anything.

“Mother, mother, mother!”

She turned to see Harry running towards him with Charlie bringing up the rear. They crashed into her both her boys and she hugged them as Charles shooting her father a look that said quite frankly he wanted to set him on fire came to join them.

“We won mother! We beat father!”

“Of course you did” she said into the mop of dark hair. “And you will be great knights at the joust no doubt because of it”

Charlie tagged his brother and they both went off running. Charles sighed.

“I am getting old” he said leaning into her side. “What did sour face want?”

She shook her head unable to get over the cold image her father had created.

“Nothing” she said quietly. “I will tell you later”

“Hope he didn’t say anything to you?”

“No” she said quietly leaning her head on his shoulder as Anne twirled around the green. “No he did not”

“You’re not upset?” he asked and she shook her head and leaned closer to him trying to soak up his warmth and when she spoke she knew she was admitting the saddest truth a child could say about their parent.

“I feel nothing, he makes me feel…nothing…”

Charles said nothing but his hand found hers and he squeezed his silent support.

That was enough.

That was always enough.

Chapter Text

Charles had never been able to figure out just what made a woman tick…their moods changing as often as they did but now with a warm lapful of Beth he found he did not care that much.

“You have a tournament to go and win” she said as she rocked back and forth over his cock riding him to completion. Her dress was crushed up against her knees and he leaned back on the bed shoving a hand under his head and grinning.

“I am not the one who threw my other half to the bed and said she needed to feel them inside of her” he said smugly and then he groaned as shifted just right.

“I know” Beth said panting. “Forgive me I—”

“Darling only a mad man would forgive this…” he said and then he rammed up his left leg pushed her further and then thrust into her lazily once, twice, three times and she was coming over his shoulder in one great shudder. He undid the laces at the front of her dress and stuck his hand down, yanked at one nipple and she moaned as she fell onto the bed.

Charles grinned.

“I can play you like a lute” he said smugly. “God that I have to go and joust”

She laughed and then sat up her blonde hair out of her hood and down her back.

“Think of me” she said grinning. “I have to go and wait on my sister. Half of the females in the castle will be there. You have enough prancing fans”

He laughed and then leaned back and tucked himself back in his hose.

It was a good day, a warm summer day. A happy day. The Queen was pregnant (not that he liked that but Charles was not totally concerned by it right now), the King happy (ish), a joust like the good old days, his sons and daughter at court and the weather fine.

There was nothing in the omens or in the skies or in the whatever that said that today was going to be the day where everything would change.

Then again.

This was England.

And this was Henry’s throne.

Charles really should have known better.

Anne was sat in a room alone. Her belly was stretched over some purple monstrosity of a dress. Mary was not with her, she had gone with William Stafford to the courtyard. Seeing as she saw so little of her son now that any chance to get him away from Anne’s guardianship she took it. Catherine was with her. Already she and Ellie were good friends. Beth looked around the empty room and thought that it was reminiscent of a time when Anne was on the rise and Catherine of Aragon on the decline.

Now she wondered if it was not a foretelling of something else.

Already she could see the gable hood returning.

Jane fucking Seymour.

“You asked for me your Majesty?”

“I am pregnant”

“I can see that”

Anne eyed her up and down clearly not impressed with the sarcasm.

“I am pregnant and my husband is not here and…and I know where he is”

“He’s at the joust”

“He’s with Jane Seymour”

The girl sewing by the fire looked up suddenly. Anne waved a hand and she left the room at a fast walk.

“You have met Jane Seymour”

“As has half the court”

Anne tapped her nails on the chair and Beth sighed.

“Drop the airs and graces” she said scathingly. “This is me your talking too”

Anne sighed and tapped her nails on the chair.

“How are you so happy?”

Beth blinked.

“I do not…”

“You and Mary…you are so very happy. Mary has nothing, I mean she has nothing. Literally. She has a little farmhouse and she will never be rich. She has three children, two are girls, I have custody of her son…she has…her two children will never be recognised as the King’s bastards not even her son and yet in this little farmhouse she is happy with Stafford even though he will never rise beyond the rank of gentleman. There is nothing above Lady Stafford for her. You…alright you’re a Duchess but you don’t seem…you…”

“I love the man not the title” Beth surmised she was trying to say. Anne nodded still not looking at her.

“Your both stuck in your lives, your never be more than what you are right now but your both happy. And here I am—”

“The Most Happy” Beth said quoting her motto.

Anne didn’t rise to the bait.

“You both swan around my court happy and carefree and…is Brandon’s cock that good?”

She turned to look at her then and the retort that yes, yes it was that good (especially when she could still feel the ache of it between her thighs) died in her throat when she saw the look on her complicated, dangerous, incredibly vulnerable big sister’s face.

Anne Boleyn was afraid. She was ten years older than she had been when she had first set her sights on her father, ten years older and tired, Queenship. Who would know better than the ones that had taken it from the last Queen that it was not as glamorous as it was made out to be and it looked like Anne was learning that lesson first hand. She had one child and that a daughter, she had argued publicly with Cromwell, Princess Mary and would perhaps get her title back through her father’s guilt and was also back at court, her friends were turning against her, she had sent her own sister away for her own indiscreet marriage and then had to bring her back, had lost three babies, she had lost everything but that child in her belly…her husband was openly looking elsewhere and even if he was not the great states of France and the Holy See might force him too.

How had it come to this?

“You’re afraid” she said quietly. “Of what? If you have a boy your secure, if you do not…then…” she trailed off titling her head to the side. “You do not know do you?”

It was a horrible thing. Seeing Anne afraid. She was Beth’s big sister, Beth had grown up thinking Anne afraid of nothing, thinking she was totally fearless. To see her now, to have to play the role of big sister comforting Anne was not a role she had ever thought she would play herself.

“It’s not a fun task wearing that Crown” she said bluntly. “Better woman than you have tried and found it heavy. Woman who have lost things that you can not even imagine, husbands, son’s, titles. Queen of England is a vocation. You know that. you’ve studied it enough”

“I thought…I thought he would stay loyal”

Beth carefully didn’t say anything to that. Even she could not tell the King’s mistress, the woman who had broken up one of the most secure and comfortable royal marriages in Christendom that, the idea of a King like Henry VIII staying loyal to his wife (not matter who she was) was utterly insane.

Suddenly a terrible banging came from down the corridor, the sound of pounding feet and the maid came back tumbling into her room.

“Madam…Your Grace…it’s the King”

Anne stood up pushing past Beth who suddenly felt very, very cold despite the hot day.

Something had happened.

Something very, very bad had happened.

“What has happened?” she said even though it should have been Anne who had spoken.

“He’s fallen! Off his horse! They…they think he’s dead”

For a second her knees buckled. Anne sank weak kneed into her chair. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move. Clearly she had gone into shock.

Beth was open mouthed. She had to think…fast. Right now…but she could not…she…

How could he die?

If he died then it would be war. Half of the old nobility would back Princess Mary, hell England would back the Princess woman or not and Spain would sure as hell take an interest. Her father would try and establish Elizabeth as regent or worse use Mary…and Mary would stand in front of her son come hell or high water.

She also knew the Howards would divide. Thomas Howard would look at other options. Anne was too much of a risk. Elizabeth perhaps but the Boleyn’s, the main core of them would look to the baby in the belly of the Queen, set themselves up as regent and then that was that. If Thomas Boleyn got his hands on the regency then it would be war.

Her father as fucking regent.

And he would come for Charles too. She was under no illusion…her father had never forgiven her that marriage, had never forgiven her the humiliation of what she would do. He had always thought Charles an upstart (ironic considering how he’d gotten his place at court) but he would come for her husband and her son’s inheritance, certainly George would take the title out of sheer spite.

And then there was other options…she knew enough to know that for every Plantagenet sworn to the King would see the Crown as theirs. The Plantagenet’s had ran this country for three hundred years before the Tudors came along, they had squabbled York and Lancaster perhaps but there had been a sense that they were united against any outsiders which is what to be unkind what this King’s father had been. A common upstart. Like Anne Boleyn. The Plantagenet dynasty had ruled and ruled well…it would be ironic after all of this it came back to them.

And that was before you looked at Scotland, before you looked at France before you looked at Spain.

And then Anne screamed.

Beth turned to look at her and the Maid screamed too and…

It was like she was outside her body watching the events take place from a long way away.

Anne dress was soaked in blood.

For a second the two of them stared at each other and with a slither of horror Beth realised that again Anne was losing the baby.

Anne would not survive another one. Never mind the marriage. ANNE WOULD NOT SURVIVE LOSING ANOTHER CHILD.

Beth knew her sister. She knew that much.

“Midwife, Physician”

“But who…”

“OUT NOW” she screamed and the Maid jumped backwards before she turned and ran at a run screaming with enough force to wake whoever was left in the castle. Beth raised her eyes heavenwards, swore under her breath and inwardly prayed for strength.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you are surrounded by idiots” she said to Anne who was bent over the waist.

“It’s coming” she panted.

“Are you not two months early”

“Yes. But I know…it’s like with Elizabeth…oh God He’s coming. Oh God”

“Yes” Beth muttered pushing her back to the bed. “I bet He’s having a laugh at us”

“Bed” she said flatly and Anne nodded. But as she moved towards her bed chamber her hand caught on the table and blood drenched the floor.

Anne groaned and fell forwards her hands blood soaked. She fell on top of her and Beth felt her blood stained clothes seep into her own, the priceless blue dress Charles had bought for her ruined no doubt by her sister’s dead child.

“Very well” she said and she heaved Anne to the bed herself. She stripped herself of her jacket and gown standing there in her undergarments, her white corset and underskirt and she shoved Anne’s dress up.

It was a mess of blood, blood coating her inner thighs dripping onto the floor, blood coating her hands. She did not know what to do, she had never been told what to do never mind trained—hell most of her labours had been in her own home with woman she trusted not in this hot palace all alone, but Anne moaned feebly and Beth saw through the mess something stick out.

She nearly gagged.

It was a foot.

She gagged into her blood soaked hand knowing she was smearing Anne’s blood down her face.

“I do not know what to do” she said to Anne who screamed again her legs pulled up against her body.

“GET HIM OUT. HE’S A PRINCE, HE’S THE FUTURE KING! GET HIM OUT!!”

“HOW?”

“GRAB HIM”

She didn’t want to, she really, really didn’t want to.

There was nothing else for it however.

Just as she touched the foot the other one popped out. Anne screamed and Beth felt tears down her face. She had no idea what she was doing, she had no, no idea what the hell she was doing.

There was a horrible slithering sound and then the baby slid into her arms. 

Beth grabbed a sheet and…

She very nearly dropped him.

It was a boy.

He was dead.

He was…he was…

She did not know what he was. He was a child of that she was sure but he was deformed…his spine had been twisted terribly, his little face contorted in pain and the back of his body split open, he was dead…had been dead for sometime looking at him and as she stared at this…boy just like her own and she felt repulsed.  She put him on top of Anne who stared at him and then screamed and as she pushed him off her they watched as the baby tumbled into the bed covers. Beth grabbed it before it hit the floor and she wrapped it in cloth and placed it to one side. She couldn’t look at it. Instead she felt her knees go and she sank to the floor yanking her hood out so her blonde hair fell over her shoulder and she lifted it to the side and vomited all down the golden counterpane.

He was dead.

He had aways been dead.

Another dead Tudor baby boy.

Anne was howling with misery.

Beth couldn’t comfort her.

She couldn’t move.

Couldn’t think.

Couldn’t breathe.

And that was where they were found ten minutes later when Cromwell came into the room.

She was still there an hour and a half later when Charles came in. She was still sat in her undergarments smeared in her sister’s blood when he crashed in still in his armour. She looked at him without seeing him and then she saw his mouth move.

But by that point it was too much and she fell sideways and fainted dead on the floor aware that the last thing she thought she had heard was Charles screaming her name.

Chapter Text

She did not know what he was. He was a child of that she was sure but he was deformed…his spine had been twisted terribly, his little face contorted in pain and the back of his body split open, he was dead…had been dead for sometime looking at him and as she stared at this…boy just like her own and she felt repulsed.  She put him on top of Anne who stared at him and then screamed and as she pushed him off her they watched as the baby tumbled into the bed covers. Beth grabbed it before it hit the floor and she wrapped it in cloth and placed it to one side. She couldn’t look at it. Instead she felt her knees go and she sank to the floor yanking her hood out so her blonde hair fell over her shoulder and she lifted it to the side and vomited all down the golden counterpane.

He was dead.

He had aways been dead.

Another dead Tudor baby boy.

Anne was howling with misery.

Beth couldn’t comfort her.

She couldn’t move.

Couldn’t think.

Couldn’t breathe.

And that was where they were found ten minutes later when Cromwell came into the room.

She was still there an hour and a half later when Charles came in. She was still sat in her undergarments smeared in her sister’s blood when he crashed in still in his armour. She looked at him without seeing him and then she saw his mouth move.

But by that point it was too much and she fell sideways and fainted dead on the floor aware that the last thing she thought she had heard was Charles screaming her name.

She woke up blissfully unaware for a second that anything had happened. She was in her bed, she was warm, the fire was blazing and she was deliciously sleepy.

And then it all came crashing down on her.

Anne. The baby. The King. Her father.

She sat up in bed her blonde hair falling over her shoulder and then she pushed herself upwards. Charles was by the fire in the privy chamber. They were still at court.

“I thought you would be with the King”

He turned to look at her eyeing her critically.

“You want something to eat, drink?”

She felt queasy still. “Just some mulled wine” she said. Suddenly she had the urge to wrap her hands around something warm.

He nodded and passed her the cup. She took it and noticed he was not dressed.

“Anne?”

“Alive”

“The King?”

“Alive…dark and twisted” he said bitterly. “He’s locked himself in his room and he’s refusing to see anyone. It’s over. It’s done. He’s given Cromwell permission”

“Permission for what?”

For one second he looked at her and she felt…it was hard to put into words but there was something about the way he looked at her that made fear creep into her belly. Charles in their marriage had never looked at her like that, there had never been any room for pity in their marriage. It had been sexual desire turning into love mingling with ambition and then their children. They had glossed over the main issues in their marriage simply because they didn’t discuss them. Anne was Beth’s sister. Beth did not believe in the reform of the Church, Wolsey had been Charles and Anne’s shared enemy, Moore and Fisher had not. Her father was someone they both hated. It worked…

But this…this was pity. Pity and conflict and Charles looking at her like that and…

“What?” she said again sitting up.

“Elizabeth”

The use of her first name made her pause.

“I am a big girl Charles” she said evenly. “Please tell me what is going on. I can handle it, I cannot handle it if it comes from someone that is not you. Please. Tell me what is going on so I can be prepared.”

For a moment they locked eyes and then…

“He’s given Cromwell permission, the King…he’s…”

“Permission to do what?” she said her heart hammering so fast in her chest she thought she was going to be sick.

“To get rid of her”

She stared at him and suddenly the room went very cold.

“What?”

He nodded. “You do not need to be a fortune teller to see. Cromwell’s locked himself in with his advisors. The court is locked down, half the maids are in Jane Seymour’s chambers…it’s…” he trailed off but she got the picture.

“Like how it was with Anne ten years ago?”

“Yes. Cromwell will use the baby to get rid of her”

“How?”

“Adultery”

Beth nodded. She felt like she was outside of her own body watching herself. She forced herself to sit up straighter and…

“Are we in danger?”

“No. I…I don’t think so. I will keep you out of it as best I can. Stafford and I have been talking it through and…he has gone to get Mary’s son”

“Henry’s Anne’s ward”

“He won’t be for much longer.”

“And our children?”

“I am keeping them here where I can see them” he vowed. “But…Beth you must understand you might need to leave court a moment’s notice, Stafford will take you and Mary the second we get wind into the city and we will wait it out. I can duke it out with Henry for you, he’s smart…thank God your sister married a man who knows the way the wind is blowing…but I think it’s over for Anne. For George, and very probably for your father”

She couldn’t understand what she was being told.

“You mean her being Queen?”

He looked at her and she did not know it then but he knew...Charles Brandon knew in the same way that he knew the King that this was only going to end one way. Henry was not the type of man who could cope with a woman out there despising him, Catherine had been hard enough. He had learnt the lesson from her.

He was going to kill her.

And her brother. And probably her father.

But Charles Brandon was a man in love with his wife and he could not tell her that.

So he nodded.

Beth ran a shaking hand through her hair.

“Yesterday we were running the country” she said finally.

“I know”

Beth was silent and then.

“How do I keep my children safe?”

She was no fool his wife he thought.

She knew what her priority was.

Charles nodded and drew up a chair.

“I did not think you liked her” she said cautiously. They put out that she was ill and they stayed in the rooms with the children studying at the table. Charles left them there and came to join her sitting down as she sat in bed still in her nightgown her bloody dress from the day before crushed and crumpled in the corner.

“I do not” he said flatly. “But this is going to be a mess and I cannot get us out of it. I do not know if he is going to drag you into court as a witness which despite what you and I may think of Anne Boleyn is not a good thing. I cannot get to the King and I cannot get to John Seymour…I do not know what to make of this.

“What do you think is happening?”

“I think he will divorce Anne and bastardise Elizabeth, he will not admit he fathered a monster, he will claim she had an affair”

Beth was silent. Charles looked at her.

“Did she?”

Beth shrugged.

That was…well…really not helpful Charles thought.

“Elizabeth” he said firmly and blue eyes met his. “I am not asking as the King’s friend I am asking as your husband who need to know everything because he doesn’t want his wife to swing from the gallows now will you please tell me? Did she have an affair”

“I don’t know”

“Beth—”

“I don’t know” she said flatly. “I don’t. I haven’t been here for a while remember, we were in the country. I don’t…if I was gambling I would say no, but I do know that she’s had two more miscarriages since Elizabeth and I know that she encourages mass flirtation, she always had, Mark Smeaton, Thomas Wyatt, Henry Percy. She can’t help herself she never has been able to stop, she was like this in France. She’s…were all flirtatious whores, Mary, Anne and me. It was…it’s just something that’s always been”

“Do you think she had an affair to get pregnant?”

“No, she’s not that stupid. She would need to trust that man absolutely even if he was tortured, the only man Anne trusts that much is George”

She looked away and so missed the dark look that passed on her husband’s face. In hindsight that was probably good thing. Mary Boleyn had told her husband the same thing and William Stafford had warned him in advance. Beth was just confirming a dark and twisted, horrible thought that Charles had, had. It didn’t matter. Nobody was ever going to voice it aloud.

“What do we do?” she asked taking another sip of her wine.

“I do not know” Charles said staring into the fire. “I do not know”

And she found that, that frightened her more than anything that she had heard before today.

They didn’t go to the May Day Joust. They put out that his wife was ill. Anne knew it to be a lie but she was still recovering. Charles kept his family to his room. Thomas Boylen never came looking for his children, George Boleyn never came looking for his sister. He would give it the day and then he would go and find Cromwell he thought. He would move Beth out of the Palace and he would send her with Stafford and keep his children close by. She would hate that but right now he didn’t know what to do.

Henry was dark, he was dangerous and he was unpredictable, Charles had never before had cause to be afraid of his best and oldest friend but now he was. The fall of Queen Anne was coming and he didn’t know how to get his wife out of the mess.

Fuck this woman! Anne was just the epicentre of a mess that continued to grow and engulf him.

It never stopped, it never ending, it just…carried on.

There was a knock at the door as the children and Beth were eating dinner. His wife had hardly touched her dinner and one look at her face had him reaching for his sword.

It was Edward Seymour asking for him apparently.

Beth swallowed but said nothing.

She looked as if she was waiting for arrest.

Charles slipped out the door.

Edward Seymour did not beat around the bush.

“He’s had Norris, Breaton, Francis Weston and Mark Smeaton arrested”

There was no question of who HE was.

“What?”

“And Rochford”

“Why?”

“Adultery.”

Charles nodded. He had known this was coming. Not because of the baby but because of the common sense that came with knowing Henry as long as he had. He had known it since the previous miscarriage.

Henry had never been able to stand anything broken. He was the living definition of if it broke replace it. Charles had known that when he had been just the Duke of York never mind anything else.

And then he stopped.

“Rochford is her brother”

Edward Seymour stared at him.

Charles stared back.

“What hell do you plan on unleashing” he said finally. “What darkness do you plan on filling the King’s head with? To tell him the woman that he tore this country apart from has been bedding her own brother?”

Oh God how the hell was he supposed to tell Beth this?

“I do nothing but what the King desires”

“Oh I bet—” he snapped but Edward Seymour held up a hand. Charles was going to break it he really was.

“I did not come here to fight with you” he said quietly. “I came to warm you”

“Of what?”

“Your wife has not been mentioned…yet. Cromwell is not stupid he knows that he needs you on board and he knows arresting your wife is going to cause problems, also your wife is now the highest ranking lady in the land. But all the same I think Cromwell and I have agreed that it might be best for her to not be at court”

Charles felt his teeth grit together. It was nothing that he himself had not thought but it grated to be told what to do by Edward fucking Seymour.

“Did you?” he said sharply.

Edward Seymour rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be like that” he said. “This cannot be a scenario you have not thought about. Don’t make it your house, just…lie low for a bit, I don’t think the King will move against your wife and you’ve always been good at getting yourself and yours out of trouble but Thomas Boleyn will not lift a fingernail for his children”

He sneered at that. Charles couldn’t blame him, even he could see that John Seymour would walk on knives for his children. Charles himself would kill quite happily for the safety of his children. Anthony would have taken life with the plague wrecking his lungs to see his daughter grown. Henry and Thomas Boleyn were a different breed of father. Even Cromwell loved his children enough to go to the scaffold to protect them.

“How long do I have?”

Edward Seymour shrugged.

“I wouldn’t wait” he said cryptically.

Charles didn’t wait to be warned twice.

“My children?”

“Should be fine just…for God sake make sure that wife of yours is not seen by her brother or father or sister, that’s what he’s paranoid about, a conspiracy”

Charles nodded.

“Why are you doing this? You have no cause to love my wife and my wife has no course to love your sister?”

Edward Seymour was silent for a very long time or what felt like it and then…

“Dark days are coming Brandon” he said shockingly informal. “And maybe if things don’t work out for my sister you will remember the favour I did you and yours. Failing that I would prefer you not to snipe at me at the Privy Council. Cromwell is a man that doesn’t need the excuse of divisions”

There was a pause and then he doubled back.

“William Stafford rode back into court twenty minutes ago by the way. With the boy”

And then he was gone.

Charles shut the door and had a moment where he rested his head against the wood.

Even he who had hated his sister in law wouldn’t wish this on her.

And now he had to go and tell his wife that her brother and sister were accused of sleeping with each other.

But Edward Seymour was right.

He was not a man to be warned twice.

And his wife was going into hiding tonight.

Chapter Text

The first she knew of it was when she was told that the maids were being taken in for questioning and that the musician Mark Smeaton had been arrested. She had met Mark Smeaton and his dark eyes and dangerous smile and there had been nothing to warm Ellie to him but she admitted that he was a great fantasy for the youngest maids her friends amongst them. Besides he had that dark charm that appealed to Aunt Anne, that confident sexy ooze that she did not find attractive and which her Aunt did.

Ellie was twelve. She was a child of the court.

She knew things.

She also knew her mother had gone with her Aunt Mary and both of them had left court.

Her mother had not wanted to go. She had made it damn clear. Ellie had heard the shouting between the two of them, her stepfather wanting his wife to be safe verses her mother and the reality that she did not want to leave her sister isolated. Sister Ellie thought, Uncle George clearly did not matter but then she thought that Uncle George and her mother didn’t like each other.

Much like her mother and her grandfather.

But this was different.

And her mother was gone in the morning and Ellie had been instructed to go about her day to day work but then Cromwell was interviewing the maids and so she turned on her heel before they could find her and ran straight to her father.

“Cromwell is interviewing the maids” she said shutting the door and forgetting to knock and ask for his blessing. Her father looked up and she was surprised to see that his mouth had set into a thin line.

“I thought he would” he said evenly. “Would you mind terribly sticking to your room for today?”

It was summer, the entire palace was hot and she was sweating and her mother was not here.

“Would he not want to interview me?”

Her father laughed shortly and it was not the usual laugh that she associated him finding something genuinely funny. This was sharp and bitter and twisted and she did not like it.

“Not if he wants his fingers still attached to his hands” he said and then he looked up and caught her expression. At once the tension eased off his face and he stood up and walked around his desk and took her into his arms and she clung to him.

“Darling girl don’t look like that, everything is going to be fine. Your mother—”

“Is in hiding—”

“I know…but she would go near the Queen and I cannot have that until I can see our way clear. My friendship with the King should protect us but even so…Cromwell…” he paused and then he pulled back and dragged out his big chair and she sat in it. He sat opposite her.

“You know Ellie I walk a fine line with you, I love you like you are my own, indeed you are but at the same time I am aware that I make decisions with you that your own father might not like. But I tell you this now because you are a woman grown, however it is not something that I want your brothers to know”

She nodded.

“Master Cromwell is drudging up evidence so the King can proceed with a divorce against your Aunt Anne”

Even Ellie had suspected that was coming. She did not know what had happened with that baby but she knew enough from the gossip that it was bad, very, very bad.

“What happens to Aunt Anne?”

“A nunnery if she goes quietly. If not exile to France”

“And the rest of them?”

“Rest of who?”

“The men who were arrested”

He looked at her evenly and then…

“Exile for the gentry, forfeiture of lands and titles. Mark Smeaton will face the axe there is nothing to prevent that”

Ellie did not know how to feel about that.

“But why were they arrested?”

Her father dithered and Ellie got the impression that this, this was where the argument with her mother had started the night before, this was where he felt awkwardness, this was where the story stretched to the point where not even him (and Ellie knew that he loathed Aunt Anne and Aunt Anne loathed him) could believe it.

This was it.

Her father dithered again and—

“Eleanor” he said using her full name. “Do you know what adultery is?”

“Yes”

“You do?”

Ellie rolled her eyes even though she knew it was rude.

“It’s in the Bible” she said. “And I know more about the way of the world in the Maids bedchamber than either one of you ever know—”

“I don’t—you know what don’t tell me how you know that I don’t want to know…” he paused and…

“The King is to apply the charge to your Aunt Anne”

Ellie said nothing for a moment and—

“Is that why mother has gone?”

“No…your mother doesn’t know anything but right now there is a tidal wave of ill will towards her family and I don’t want her caught in the crossfire. She was not happy about it but she understands I think that she has to put herself first—”

“She won’t want to leave her sister in the lurch” Ellie said quietly.

“No” her father said quietly. “And that is half the battle. Your Aunt has not inspired much loyalty and over the years she has treated both her sisters appallingly. But now I fear she will cling to them and—” he gave a heavy sigh and then stood up.

“I tell you this because you are a big girl and I want you to understand, actions at court have consequences and there are no room for mistakes. You are as much as I must hate it a woman of the world. And I think that you have learnt…I do not anticipate your Aunt being Queen of this country for much longer”

Ellie didn’t know what to say to that.

“A hundred men Charles”

Holding Henry the King was one thing. But this was Harry. Harry his friend in his arms who was tortured by what he had read. The problem was Charles was only sure half of it was true. He would not put it past Anne Boleyn to have had affairs (he was gobsmacked Wyatt wasn’t on the list) but at the same time he thought one hundred was a bit excessive. After all there was not enough hours in the day and before his marriage Charles had been a philander and a half.

But what was he supposed to say when his best friends heart had been broken.

“A hundred men”

“I know” he said stroking back Henry’s hair as if he was his son and not his King. “Oh Harry I know”

“And everything else, the Church, Moore, Fisher, Catherine…Mary”

Personally Charles thought that Henry had done a lot of that himself but the reality was that he was struggling to put that into words. His old friend was not the same man he had been when Anne Boleyn had first come to court.

There was a pause and then…

“Henry?”

“Hmm?”

“My wife is innocent of all of this…I need you to know that”

“Aye” Henry said heavily. “The only Boleyn girl I never bedded. The only Boleyn girl with sons. The Other, Other Boleyn Girl. Maybe I should have bedded her”

Charles rolled his eyes when the King couldn’t see.

“Henry…”

“Keep her away from court for a bit” Henry said heavily. “Your my brother Charles and she is your wife and thankfully she doesn’t look like Anne enough to— but just keep her away for a bit I need—I cannot look at them, I really cannot—”

Charles nodded.

Well…it was better than nothing.

He had forgotten however about the vindictiveness of Anne Boleyn. The desire to have the last word, the desire to screw both her sisters into the ground.

Or maybe it was just loneliness.

Either way Charles didn’t care.

Catherine Carey the daughter of Mary and her first husband (though that child was William Carey’s his left foot) was with Ellie in his chambers. The rest of the court was at tennis. The boys were with his page who had taken them to the courtyard to see his horse and had positioned it so Charles could see them from the window. He was not totally worried about his own sons as much as he was the girls. He didn’t know why but if they were interrogating the Maids but it set his teeth on edge. Having Howard and Cromwell do it was sickening enough, Bryant was there too. Howard tended to look at all women even the young ones as whores, Cromwell would be so kind he would turn them in knots all while being a snake in the grass and Byrant…well…Charles was not going to leave his daughter or Anthony’s alone with a man like Francis Byrant.

Not even Mary Boleyn would be able to control him.

The knock on the door made him pause. Both girls, the red dark headed Boylen girl and the blonde headed Boleyn girl paused. Charles wondered if soon a red headed Boleyn girl would be joining them. He didn’t know what was going to happen to Elizabeth but he knew his own wife well enough to know she was not going to let her niece suffer the indignity of being thrown on her ear.

The door opened and in came Edward Seymour with four guards. He had the look of a man who knew he was walking to his death.

Charles looked up from his accounts.

“Sir Edward”

“Your Grace”

Shit. They were doing the full titles now.

“Can I help?”

“I…I regret to inform you the Queen has been arrested”

Charles watched him.

“I know, the King told me”

“She…” Edward Seymour folded his lip and then with the air of a man getting the worst over with continued.

“She has requested companions and…”

And then Charles got it.

She couldn’t have her sisters by her side when she was accused of adultery with her own brother and so—

“Like Hell”

“Your Grace”

“LIKE HELL”

Edward Seymour bit his lip.

“I don’t have a choice” he hissed. “This is the one thing that she has asked for and the mood is undecided towards her at the moment.”

“What mood!?”

“The common people”

“They are hardly going to defend her are they?”

“No but…but I don’t have a choice here, she has asked for Eleanor Knivert—”

“Brandon”

“Eleanor Brandon then and Catherine Carey, I don’t have a choice I have to take them”

For a second he was speechless with rage and a horror he could feel spreading out from under him.

“You want to take my daughter to the Tower?”

He felt sick.

He felt…how the hell was he suppose to go and look Beth in the eye after this?

How the hell was he supposed to look Anthony in the eye on the Final Day of Judgement?

“You…you cannot be serious…they…they are children”

“I know” Sir Edward said rubbing his head. “I have…I have two girls of my own Your Grace believe me the thought of having this conversation with Anne…but she’s asked and we have to honour her wishes—”

“You don’t”

“We do”

There was a pause.

“They…they are arresting…”

“No. They are just her companions, they will be in the Tower but not questioned, not under lock and key. Charles she is just a companion. She is not a suspect. She will be treated as what she is, an innocent girl and Henry would never dare move against his…” there was a pause while Seymour clearly tried to think of a word for the double role of daughter of the nobility and daughter of the King that Catherine Carey was.

“I will get to see them”

“Yes”

“As will my wife?”

“Yes”

Charles pushed himself to his feet and glared at the man.

“One father to another on your girls lives if you are fucking around with me—”

“On my girls lives I am not”

He hated it, he hated it, but…what choice did he have?

“You will be safe with your Aunt and Sir William Kingston, he’s a good man and he will keep your reputation paramount”

Ellie nodded.

Catherine Carey had gone (under guard with his page for propriety’s sake to get some clothes) Ellie was packing her bag now.

“I am sure all will be well…it’s you I am worried about I confess”

“Me why?”

“Your going to have to tell mother”

Charles smiled though it was hollow.

“I will come and see you as soon as I am able”

“I know…”

“As soon as the divorce is agreed you are coming home”

Ellie nodded.

She smoothed down her dress.

“I won’t hear anything will I?”

“Hear what?”

She shot him a look that was very much her mother.

“Hear…the screams?

Charles smiled.

“No” he said. He knew Henry well enough to know that Henry was not going to send his wife to the bowels of the tower. It rather defeated the purpose of him playing the benevolent King. He thought of the Tower of London and thought of all the horror stories that had been created. Once it had been a coronation palace, now it was a torture chamber…he wondered if that reputation would fade away long after he did and concluded probably not.

She nodded and then.

“I don’t mind being useful” she said swinging back to Anthony again. “If I can offer her some comfort I will”

“Yes well…don’t get involved if you don’t have to, she might be using this as a trap to lure your mother and Aunt out”

“Probably will work”

Charles nodded.

“Be safe” he said as the knock on the door reminded him that he had no choice in this matter. “Be safe and I will come and see you very soon”

She nodded her smile bright her eyes guarded and then with a hug where he tried to mould her body to his own she was gone. Edward Seymour nodded and then he was gone too.

Charles took a deep breath. Even now the urge to run after his baby girl and drag her back from danger was too great.

He looked at his shaking hands and…

Time to go and tell Beth.

What was the old saying? Out of the frying pan and into the fire?

And hell hath no fire than an angry Boleyn woman.

Chapter Text

For one shaking shivering moment she stared at her husband and then…

“I am going to fucking kill her. Save the King a job”

Charles nodded.

“I think this is designed to get the two of you out of hiding, I think Cromwell designed it so…”

“So I cannot go and see her?”

Charles looked at her and Beth whirled around her skirts swinging in the little room she was in. William Stafford perhaps seeing the royal storm about to break had taken the boys and his shaking wife into the next room.

“I let him down” she said finally.

“Who?”

“Anthony. I let…she’s the last living thing that the world will have of him and I let—”

“Beth I would have gone in her place willingly if I thought—”

“I know” she said and she sat down as if the fight had sapped out of her. For Charles it was a frightening sight to see.

“The charges are adultery”

“Yes”

“Then why take up my brother?”

Charles paused. He had no earthly idea how one was to tell one’s wife this.

Beth looked at him and then her expression changed to one of horror beyond words.

“No” she said shaking her head. “The monster baby was bad enough but this is just…I do not know if it is Cromwell or if it is Henry but—”

“I believe it is a false charge, however it is not ours to judge the wisdom of the Privy Council—”

Elizabeth could not resist snorting.

“Anne is allowed some companions and Ellie and Catherine Carey are the only ones she has asked for. Constable Kingston is required to make her as happy as he can. Besides the rest of them are just spies haunting and lurking for gossip”

Beth stared at him and her eyes were anguished.

“What does Cromwell want from you?”

“My…co-operation”

She looked at him flatly.

“I…I want her gone Beth you know that, that has never been a secret in our marriage but this… framing Anne Boleyn for witchcraft and sexual acts not with her husband? Even I tend to back the woman on this one. And…and I think Cromwell might be misjudging the mood of the country”

“They hate her”

“Hating her and believing this is too very different things, I hate her and I could not believe her capable of this. Besides, Henry pushed this woman on them and they have learnt to accept it since Catherine’s death. Now they might think he is pushing her off another for Queen Jane I assume that is to be the plan. Anne for Jane. Elizabeth for this boy she will have”

Beth went to the window and tapped her nails on the sill.

“You will see her in the morning”

“Yes”

“I…George is…I know my brother is many things Charles I will not deny it, I know my sister is many things…they are close perhaps more than any of the four of us but to accuse them of this…”

“I know. It’s Cromwell and Henry is believing it I just…”

Beth looked out the small window into the city of London

“I did not think it would end like this” she said her voice small.

Charles could not comfort her, he did not know how to and anyway it would not be welcome.

He sighed.

“No” he said finally thinking of the three pretty Boleyn girls who had come to court all those years ago and ensnared Dukes and Kings and Knights.

“No” he admittedly heavily “I didn’t think it would end like this either.”

Beth came to him the next morning. Her hair was loose and her gown slipping off her shoulders. She had not bothered to change to her nightgown.

“What will Henry offer her in a divorce settlement?”

“A nunnery Cromwell says”

“She’ll never go to a nunnery. Can he not offer her exile like he did Catherine?”

The second she said it she knew that it was not going to happen. She did not need Charles sceptic look to tell her that there was no way that Henry was going to pay for Anne to live in peace and tranquillity in the country. Catherine had held on with everything she had to the mantle of wife and Queen. Anne would do the same. They had both had children, children of a king and more to the point daughters of the King. And that was precarious enough. Beth knew that. She was the daughter of a man who had been noble through his wife. And when she had gone there was a great many people hoping that soon he would join her and the house and the land and the title could go to the next young and glamourous generation waiting in the wings.

And look how that had turned out.

“Elizabeth?”

“I think he will give her the same consideration he gave Mary. Lady Elizabeth, not in the line of succession but in a house somewhere in the country. Though Cromwell seems to be hinting to an already unstable man that she might not even be his”

“Oh Jesus”

“Beth I say this to you in private but you know that we cannot let the children repeat such things in public. New laws are being enacted all the time to protect Henry’s reputation and Cromwell is spearheading this. Anyone he thinks is a threat…” he trailed off no doubt when he saw the look on her face.

“I am aware” she said coldly. “How dangerous court can be”

There was a pause and then.

“I am sorry. I don’t like Anne, I like your brother and father even less. But I know Anne is not at fault for having that child come out the way it did”

She nodded.

“I know I…” she ran a hand through her hair. “Come to bed?”

“You need to sleep”

“What I need is human touch”

She took a step backwards into the bedchamber and Charles followed where they kissed slowly and languidly. He pulled down her blonde hair and she felt his long fingers undo the laces at the front of her gown so that he could pull it down to her belly and bend his curly head and take her nipples into her mouth.

She gave a little moan of pleasure and Charles slid downwards so that he could lift up her skirts and take her achingly cunt into his mouth.

He ran his tongue so softly over her quivering clit that she gasped as if she was being racked and then he breathed over it and she gave another gasp. Charles looked up his eyes bright and his smile sadder than usual.

“Would it be masterly inappropriate to say I want another child with you”

“Yes” Beth said easily. “But that’s never been a thing you’ve cared about has it?”

Charles conceded the point.

He brought her to climax once and then they went to bed and kissed and touched languidly and slowly. They never did have to do the full deed and at a time where the world as they knew it was ending. They had a daughter and a sister (in law) in the tower alongside the rest of his family. Charles thought about them all there and thought if he could get Ellie out and get Beth back home he would happily leave the rest of them to rot.

“I think court and you might need a break” he said quietly.

“I know” Beth said stretching out. “But I don’t care. I just…I want us to take Elizabeth if we can”

“I thought as much”

“Charles…”

“Let’s just get Ellie home and this business out the way. Then we can see what we can do about your niece”

She nodded and kissed him and it was soft and languid and soft and terribly sad all at once.

The trial had been over before midday not that he had expected anything less. The court had been stacked with men and woman hungry for Anne’s fall, she had been at the very least dignified to the last. She had been calm and collected, had evenly stared at them and known as well as he did that it had been futile. Charles was glad beyond words that he did not have to judge that trial and he found that he was shamed beyond words she had to endure it. He had missed Catherine’s trial because he had been courting Beth Boleyn at the time but what little he had seen of that shamed him to his soul too. This was somehow worse. They had gotten better, more effective of stripping the woman in question of her dignity since Catherine.

And it had been the woman who had supplanted her who was now the instrument of their shame.

God Moore would have had a fit if he could see this, this bastardisation of the Church he had given his life too. Fisher too. Wolsey had been bad but with Wolsey there had been a sense of justice and law and common practice. This was…

He could not look her in the eye though he knew she was looking at him. Not at him per say but he knew who she was looking for. Ellie was not with her and was so spared the sight of this and Charles didn’t know if it was because Anne had known what a farce this was and had wanted to spare her nieces it or not.

In the end he watched her composure as she was found guilty and told she was to be burned or beheaded at the King’s pleasure and then with the upmost composure she turned around and walked away.

George Boleyn was another thing entirely.

Hard enough to watch the men go before him. Smeaton was a broken doll, Norris took it well enough. Breaton was a dead man inside, Weston didn’t say anything but seemed to look around no doubt for Boleyn. When they brought the brother in he seemed almost hollowed out.

One had to give the Bolyen children credit. They handled themselves with a dignity in certain death that they never had in life. Even when George heard that his wife had given up evidence he didn’t so much as flicker.

The father had no charges brought against him.

Out of all of the travesties of justice Charles thought that, that one was the worst.

Ellie was walking to him.

One of the guards on duty had arranged the visit for a gold coin and a comment about how he had girls of his own. Ellie came down the stone steps smiling at a passing guard and then straight into his arms.

Charles hugged her close and wondered just how the hell Thomas Bolyen could be so detached when it came to his children, two in exile from court, two about to be killed and the man had not lifted a finger.

“Father”

“Ellie”

He pulled back and looked at her.

“Are you well girl? You must tell me—”

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be” she said easily. “Catherine wanted to come but your influence trumps her father’s to be honest. She asks for this—” she held out some paper. “To be delivered to her mother, also we need new linin and Qu—Aunt Anne needs a couple of gowns”

Charles rolled his eyes. Even now he was at the beck and call of Anne fucking Boleyn it seemed.

“You eat well?”

“Yes. As well as we did at court. Catherine and I share a bed together and we are treated well and with respect. We do our embroidery and read from the bible and a great deal of praying”

Ellie tried to sound like she was not board out of her mind but she feared she did not show it very well. Charles smiled.

“How is she?”

“Calm. I think she knew it was coming. She…she wants to know somethings?”

“Oh”

“Is the King going to marry Jane Seymour?”

“Yes. You can tell her that is certainty”

“She…she asks about Elizabeth constantly. She wants to know if she will be protected, by you or Aunt Mary but Uncle Stafford does not have the power and—”

Charles sighed. He had been afraid of this. Like William he did but he would be on the boat back to his farm and never setting foot in London again if he could help it before he would take in Anne Boleyn’s daughter. He had known that this was coming. He didn’t know what he could do.

“Tell her…tell her I will speak to the King.” He said finally.

Ellie nodded.

“She wants to see Mother and Aunt Mary”

“No”

“She…the Constable said he…will arrange it if she wants, Crammer says the King has no desire to move against your wife or Aunt Mary…he…he says it’s over. If she agrees to the divorce…and she won’t agree to a divorce until she sees them”

Charles bit his lip to keep the swearing down. If that was the case he was going to have to produce his wife and his sister in law. Henry knew well enough to know that he had them both hid.

“Fine” he said through gritted teeth. “Tell her I will speak to your Mother and Aunt Mary”

She nodded.

“As soon as the divorce is through I want you to come—”

“No”

God save him from fucking stubborn Boleyn women!

“Eleanor”

“NO” she said firmly. “No father I…I can’t leave her…Catherine and I…nobody is there to be with her, she’s alone and she’s like a child. She’s so confused at how far she has fallen I don’t think…she needs us. She…the other night she was wandering, she called me Beth…she’s…she’s like a child sometimes. I cannot leave her. I…I couldn’t do that and look myself in the eye”

Charles sighed.

“Have you seen your uncle or grandfather”

She looked at him.

“Father it’s a prison, they don’t let me skip around the halls speaking to the condemned.”

“Well thank heavens for that” he muttered before he could stop himself.

The cough behind him told him it was time to go.

“Will you tell her from me…” he paused.

There was too much to say. Bitter years of hatred between Anne Boleyn and him, bitter years of animosity, they had both loathed each other for stealing a bit of Henry’s love away, he had loathed her for Catherine, she had loathed him for Beth. Underneath it all there had been a love of Henry and Beth that had kept them on the same orbit, a love of a King and a love of a sister. That had been the thing that had kept them going. Charles had no love of her and she no love of him but they both loved the blonde haired woman chewing her nails to the quick right now. How could he tell her that he hated her and that he loved her for Beth? That without her he wouldn’t have Beth, this girl in front of him, his boys all of it? And so while he hated her for the ruin she had brought to the woman he loved like a sister, to the child he loved like a niece, the man he called brother, the country that was his home, how he could he also say that he was thankful she had stepped foot on English shores since with her had come the love of his life?

There was too much to say to Anne there.

And not enough time to say it.

Ellie dithered clearly both she and the guard wanted to move.

“Tell her she has my prayers” he said. “And tell her not to roll her eyes when you tell her that.”

Ellie frowned but nodded and with another hard hug and a kiss she was gone.

That night he told the woman what their sister wanted.

“We go” Mary said flatly. Beth nodded her jaw set. William Stafford out with the children was not there to say nothing.

Mary decided she wanted to go and find him and Charles let her go.

“Afterwards—”

“I will stay in London until it is done” she said flatly not looking at him.

Charles nodded.

“You know” he said flatly thinking of Anne, Mary and Beth Boleyn, of Catherine Carey and Eleanor Knivert-Brandon, of Elizabeth Tudor.

“If you were horses I’d jump no other for you Boleyn girls would jump everything out of recklessness, fearlessness alone. As woman it makes it very easy to fall in love with you. But my God it makes you difficult to live with”

And he went to get a drink and missed his reward of a small but true smile.

Chapter Text

“If you are here to condemn me you are too late. I am beyond mortal condemnation”

“For God’s sake Anne what do you think we am here for?”

Anne looked at them both.

“I do not know.”

“Well you asked to see us” Mary pointed out.

“And you two came. Where are your husbands?”

“Charles went to see father, he had news from the King. William is with the Constable”

“Where is Beth?”

“Outside with her daughter, when she comes in I will be with mine, then William will take them far away to where they don’t see—”

Mary swallowed and Anne nodded dimly.

They didn’t have to say it.

Today was the day their brother died.

“Have you seen him?”

“No. Not for lack of trying. Apparently the only person he has wanted to see was Francis Weston. The Constable let them spend the night together in what he thought was prayer but knowing those two…”

She trailed off and Anne nodded. Unspoken was the secret the three Boylen girls had held that their brother was never going to be the one to give the family an heir. They had accepted that in the same way they had accepted their own ways and wiles. It had simply been the way. She had never judged her brother for it though she knew history would. Compared to what history might remember George for taking it up the ass was the least of his concerns Mary thought.

“I should have done what you did” Anne said suddenly. “Just let him fuck me”

“I wanted the man” Mary pointed out. “You wanted the crown”

“You didn’t?”

She shook her head. “I know history will condemn me for being a whore and that is if it remembers me at all but in truth with both Francis and Henry I wanted the men. You remember how it was, they were young and charismatic, desperately handsome, rich and powerful. What woman didn’t want that? I just didn’t want that throne, I saw…unpleasantness from it the second I saw it.”

“And Beth never even saw it”

“Well…”Mary thought sitting down and taking Anne’s hand in her own. “Our sister has always had some kind of way of getting what she wants out of things. She choose the man by the side of the throne which has to mean something”

Anne smiled.

“I think I have been a fool to want him, and I won’t lie the throne did help but the truth of the matter is I always wanted him too.”

It was an admission she could not make to their other sister. Beth still thought it the throne after all. It was only to Mary, her silly little whore of a sister that Anne thought that she could make the admission that she was a woman who too had loved a man. Just so happened that man had a crown on his head.

“You two were right on the money” Anne said finally. “You got good men, Beth will never be back at court but she has a man ready to defend her, you will never be rich but you have a man who looks at you and you alone when you walk into a room. Both of you have babies in the cradle. Both of you have sons.”

“Maybe it’s him”

It was too close to treason these days to imply that it was Henry’s fault but this would be the last earthly conversation the Boleyn girls would ever have and damnit all to hell if Mary was going to leave anything unsaid. She was going to say her bit now and so help her she would face the consequences in the next life along with the rest of her family.

“It’s a false confession” Anne said. “I am guilty of many things but Norris is married and happily, Breaton I never even heard off, Weston was always chasing after George and Smeaton…” she rolled her eyes. “Why would I go there when…”

“When you loved Henry Percy”

It was the name they could not speak. The name of the man that she had loved and who had loved her. the name of the only man she had ever loved who had loved her regardless.

Anne sighed.

“He couldn’t look at me the other day” she said in an almost wistful tone. “Neither could Wyatt…neither could Brandon” she laughed suddenly and there was genuine amusement in her face.

“I must be doing very bad indeed sister if I am inspiring sympathy in Brandon!”

Mary smiled and then the door opened and their sister Elizabeth Boleyn-Knivert-Brandon the Lady Knivert, Her Grace the Duchess of Suffolk, Beth Boleyn came in and looked at them.

“Catherine is waiting for you” she said. “You have about half an hour and then it will begin. George is to be last. No…no word on father”

Mary nodded.

She would be back in time for George.

If there was one thing that Cromwell would make sure that they did not miss it was this.

After all…it was not everyday that your brother was beheaded.

Beth threw her cloak on the bed.

“I could kill you”

“Save the swordsman a job. Did you hear that was what I was to get? A French swordsman? It seems very full circle when you think of my court life began and how it will end”

Beth looked at her evenly. Only her eyes told her how agonising this was. Mary had been crying that much was clear. But Beth looked at her with that straightforward Boylen gaze and Anne was too tired to fight her anymore.

“My child was a cheap blow Anne “

“It wasn’t…it wasn’t a cheap blow. I…I couldn’t be alone Beth. Those two girls were the only friends I had in the world and…and it reminded me of the three of us, you, me and Mary and how it used to be before it all got so complicated”

“You mean before we all grew up?”

“I know…it’s…it’s terrible being a grown up isn’t it?”

Beth smirked but then.

“I think I might still be in shock a little. It feels as if this whole thing is a joke or a bad dream and I will wake up and we will still be running the country”

Anne smirked back though there was little humour in it.

“I have comfort in God” she said quietly. “I have found comfort in that. I have…I wrote to Mary…Catherine’s Mary and I asked forgiveness. I do not think I will get it but I asked for it nonetheless. I…I regret many things. I fear history will look at her and Elizabeth and see me and Catherine and our twisted war. I wish to God…” she said viciously. “That I had never met the man. Sometimes I think you were right, throw your cap at a man like Brandon and be done with it. God knows every woman he has been with seems happy enough.”

Beth looked at her and then slowly her eyes welled with tears. Anne stood up and held her arms out and her silly, dangerous, baby sister flew into them.

Anne had been the eldest and when their mother had died she had been the one who had spent the most time with her. She had played house with Beth as her baby, she had mothered her maybe a bit too much…maybe that was why the betrayal hurt so much?

“Father will be let go do you think?”

Anne nodded. She had always thought her father had loved her the same as he had loved George and a little bit more than he had loved Mary and certainly more than he had loved Beth. Turns out she had been wrong. He had never loved any of his children. Only power. And now he would have no children (for Mary would spit on his grave before she ever gave him a coin and that was before Beth got him) and he would never have power again. 

She should have listened to Beth really, her silly baby sister who had married for love (and for power because Beth might love Brandon’s cock but she also loved his title) . She could have been happy with a good man that she had married for love and though she would never be rich she would have had her children and her little manner house and she would have been happy. 

But then again, she had thought that she'd had the man and the child and the happiness only her little house had been a palace. On the edge of a golden world only to see it turn to rust. 

Vanity indeed. 

That should be the epitaph of this family. Vanity.

“I have caused a great deal of pain, to the Princess Mary…to Queen Catherine…”

“Yes you have”

Christ even when she was faced with death Beth didn’t bullshit her.

“Do you think I will get forgiveness from the Princess Mary?”

“Not in this lifetime”

Anne nodded. She had been expecting that. In truth she was not surprised. In Mary's place she would not forgive her either. She just hoped that Mary would remember her…decently…or at least in public for Elizabeth’s sake.

Beth held her for a long time and then…

“I don’t believe this” she said into her hair. “Your my big sister Anne, what…I don’t know how to be without you”

Anne smiled into the gold hair.

“You will manage” she said and she knew it to be true. Beth would manage. Out of all of them she would be the one who managed to cope with what happened now.

“I won’t” came the reply.

Anne laughed.

“Yes” she said quietly. “You will. You will because out of all of us you’re the one in the best position to do so.”

“Anne…”

“I have many regrets in this life” Anne said quietly. “I’ve been calculating the list of them trying to reconcile myself to God. I know I will stand before him in two days time and I will genuinely have to face the music. I know that there is a chance I will be denied his salvation. But I am reconciling myself. And I admitting truth. I did not kill Catherine of Aragon, not with poison anyway. I did not sleep with my brother. I did not mean to banish Mary. I did not mean to sit ideal on my throne while father hit you. But you can get that look off your face right now Beth because you’re the one person in this family who will be still be standing. And I need you to tell Elizabeth that I was not the whore that Henry will paint me as”

Beth looked at her.

“I can’t…” she trailed off and shook her head looking away. “Anne I don’t know how to be Beth Boleyn without Anne Boleyn in the world. There is not…we are the three Boleyn girls how…”

“You can and you will” Anne said as Beth dropped her head o her shoulder. “And you will make it. I am only one woman after all”

She sat there and let Beth rest her head on her shoulder just enjoying the human touch and then Mary slipped through.

“Constable Kingston has them in his room. It’s far away from this and…it’s starting”

Anne nodded. She held out her hand Mary took it. Beth took the other linking their fingers together and the three of them walked to the window.

Norris went with a dignity that Anne hoped to possess. Breton was almost dead already, Smeaton was broken beyond repair. Francis Weston simply looked up at the sky and smiled and then…

George.

He came out looking oddly diminished but his head held high. Anne shook like a leaf and Mary crammed her free hand in her mouth. Beth felt the tears down her face and made no effort to wipe them. For all the ups and downs between them he was her big brother. He had been morphed and moulded and twisted into a creature beyond recognition, hungry for power and riddled with ambition by their father.

She just remembered her big brother who had gotten her a toy wooden sword, who had taught her how to dance around the gardens of Hever, who had taught her how to drink. Who had hugged her so tight when she had a nightmare...

George spoke to the crowd baying for blood and then he knelt and…

It was over.

Anne screamed.

Their brother was dead.

Mary screamed and looked away as Anne fell to her knees. Beth took one step back away from the window and turned sitting on the chest her entire body heaving and shaking her hand on her stomach where unbeknownst to her and her husband new life was growing.

Her brother was dead.

In two days time so would be her sister.

And their father Beth knew would skip out of prison without a care in the world.

Tears wet on her cheeks, Anne screaming into the floor and Mary sobbing into her hand Beth knew where the blame for all of this lay.

At the feet of Thomas Boleyn.

One way or another she vowed as she cried angrily, she was going to see him suffer.

No…she was going to see her father ruined…

Chapter Text

George.

He came out looking oddly diminished but his head held high. Anne shook like a leaf and Mary crammed her free hand in her mouth. Beth felt the tears down her face and made no effort to wipe them. For all the ups and downs between them he was her big brother. He had been morphed and moulded and twisted into a creature beyond recognition, hungry for power and riddled with ambition by their father.

She just remembered her big brother who had gotten her a toy wooden sword, who had taught her how to dance around the gardens of Heaver, who had taught her how to drink. Who had hugged her so tight when she had a nightmare...

George spoke to the crowd baying for blood and then he knelt and…

It was over.

Anne screamed.

Their brother was dead.

Mary screamed and looked away as Anne fell to her knees. Beth took one step back away from the window and turned sitting on the chest her entire body heaving and shaking her hand on her stomach where unbeknownst to her and her husband new life was growing.

Her brother was dead.

In two days time so would be her sister.

And their father Beth knew would skip out of prison without a care in the world.

Tears wet on her cheeks, Anne screaming into the floor and Mary sobbing into her hand Beth knew where the blame for all of this lay.

At the feet of Thomas Boleyn.

One way or another she vowed as she cried angrily, she was going to see him suffer.

No…she was going to see her father ruined…

His father in law looked at him evenly. He had been reading when Charles had stepped in. Reading…as if his son being executed was something that wasn’t worth looking at. As if his daughter dying was something that didn’t matter. As if his other two daughters breaking their hearts over it was annoying.

“Is it not enough to want your children happy?” she asked randomly.

Her father turned to look at her in a rare moment of interest and surprise.

“No” he said truthfully. “You are my children, you are my stepping stones to greatness. You are my legacy. Happiness will not get the Boleyn name down in the history books for generations of children to learn, happiness will not get our blood on the throne. Happiness will not have me where I am supposed to be. You are my children. I feed you and house you and clothe you and you go out into the world and you make my life advantageous”

“We did that” she felt compelled to say. “Anne is Queen, I am a Duchess, Mary was the King’s whore at your command. George is…well…Viscount Rochford. You are a Lord. What more do you want?”

“More” he said smugly. “More of everything. And I do not forgive or forget. You could have had a French Prince. Mary could have had a noble. But this grandson will be King of England. That will be enough to forget about the rest” and then he was gone before Beth could say anything.

Beth had not told him totally what that was about. But he had known…

He had known.

“Your son is about to be executed”

The old man put down his book.

“Your point?”

Charles blinked momentarily, genuinely caught off guard.

“That was my point” he said honestly. “Your son is about to die, your daughter is dying soon I don’t…”

“You didn’t come here for platitudes” Thomas Boleyn said quietly. “What do you want, you are blocking the natural sunlight”

Charles blinked at him again

“The King has decreed you will lose your titles, you will lose your land, you will be what you were before this entire mess started”

“So Sir Thomas Boleyn?”

Charles stared at him.

“Yes” he said slowly and he knew…he knew he was close to losing his temper.

“So I am to be freed then?”

“Yes”

“Give me the terms”

“You are to lose your spot on the privy council, you will lose your Lord Chamberlainship, you will be banished from court and never see the King again on pain of death. And you will never see any of your children again”

The man stared at him.

“I spoke to Stafford. He agreed. Mary and Elizabeth are off limits, Anne’s daughter is off limits, Mary’s children are off limits, mine are certainly off limits. Personally I can assure you that if you set so much as one toe over the line of my land I will string you up like a common poacher. In fact I beg of you…try.”

For a long moment the older man looked at him.

“So I am to keep my earldom?”

And…well…yes…Charles was done.

He launched himself at Thomas Boleyn and threw him bodily into the wall. Everything from Beth’s wide eyed, childlike confusion, to Mary’s constant sobbing, to Anne’s look when she had tried to gain support and found none, to Ellie’s expression of acceptance when Anne had called for her to accompany her to prison had hit him all at once. He threw Thomas Boleyn against the wall with all the strength that he had and he took an obscene amount of pleasure of seeing his skull bounce off the wall. For a second the two of them stared at each other.

“Was it worth it?” Charles spat. “George is going to die today, Anne is going to die in two days time, your ripped apart a country for nothing, you…you destroyed a King, you killed a Queen, two of them really and you destroyed the happiness of a Princess. Good men, better men than you have gone to the scaffold, you have…was it worth it?”

“If she’d had a son maybe, I should have given him your wife”

“What?”

Sir Thomas Boleyn shrugged. “Your wife…I…Beth seems to be the only one in this family that breeds boys. I gave him the wrong girl. You stole her”

“I did not steal—”

The banging of the drums silenced them and Charles went to the window.

“George is last” he said watching as Smeaton was dragged out—or what was left of him.

“Oh”

“How can you be so detached?” he asked in disgust as the first axe came down.

Boleyn sighed as if Charles was being very irritating.

“You love your children” he said easily. “And maybe that’s admirable but I didn’t raise children, I raised whores. I freely admit it, I raised four whores for power, the throne and the King. You give your children to something better. I would have seen them dead than banished from court. I put Mary then Anne in his bed, I would have put Beth in if that was what he wanted. And at the end it has come to this, but Anne was the one who could not give him a son, George is the one who has been having affairs with men, Mary is the one who married a soldier, Beth is the one that married you. It is a hard thing for a man to be blamed for the mistakes of his children. Especially when those children have let him down as mine have”

“They did everything they were asked to do!”

“And yet the one thing that I asked they could not do. Give the King a son”

“And do you not think that if praying made it so Catherine of Aragon woudlnt have given him six sons!”  

“God has little to do with it”

Charles could not understand this.

“So…” he said as he turned, Norris, Breaton were done and now Weston was on his knees. George Boleyn was going to watch his lover die and then die himself.

“It was worth it?”

Thomas Boleyn picked up his book.

“To me…to get as close to the throne as I did. I would burn them all”

Charles thought he was going to be sick.

He watched George Boleyn get beheaded with a terrible detachment. The screams from upstairs made him pause. He knew enough to know in his soul that, that was not his wife screaming.

That was Anne.

For the first time in his life Charles Brandon was able to think kindly of her, he found himself for the first time wanting to comfort her.

The old man looked up at the ceiling for a second and then sighed.

“Do you want something Brandon?”

“No” Charles said suddenly sick with the need to get out of here and away from him. “No I…I don’t need anything from you. My family needs nothing from you. I will tell them that you are dead”

Thomas Boleyn looked at him with an expression that told Charles he wasn’t really bothered by that threat.

“You go and do that son” he said patronisingly and with a disgust that he could barely name Charles was out of the room slamming the door shut.

The brother might have been bad but at least he had gone to the scaffold with dignity. Anne might have been bad but no man with anything resembling a heart would listen to those screams and not feel sorry for her.

He couldn’t help but think that Henry had gotten it wrong. Out of the two Boleyn males he had gotten them mixed up. The one banished from his sight should have been the son and the one with his head on a pike should have been his father.

He waited longer than he should and Constable Kingston was clearly not happy with him when Beth submerged from the room later. Her blonde hair was loose around her shoulders and Charles looked at her. He was glad suddenly that Lady Kingston had insisted that the two youngest girls in her charge go to the chapel to pray. He did not think it would serve Ellie to see her mother looking like this.

He didn’t bother taking her back to the London lodgings. He knew she would not want to be with the boys and he knew Stafford well enough to know that he would protect them. Instead he took her back to St Margaret’s Crypt where twice they had been before. Once when they had been married and once when they had been running from their lives.

“Charles?”

He started. She had been lying on the floor. He had undressed her and undressed himself and then wrapped himself around her for skin to skin contact. She stared without seeing and then she brushed her fingertips down his shoulder.

“My love?”

“I feel oddly compelled to point out that if you want a divorce you can get one. You might consider it Anne’s last gift”

He stared at her.

“The hell?

She smirked as if she thought him blaspheming in front of her funny. There was nothing funny about this.

“I was thinking…”

“No”

“Charles I am under no illusions that you need a wife who can be at court and that is not going to be me much longer—”

“I will get you back at court”

“And I am not sure if I want to go”

“Then don’t. Stay in the country but Beth…do not ask me for a divorce. I will not give it”

She looked at him.

“You should. I am…damaged goods now. No man would blame you or reproach you”

“I would blame me!” I would reproach me I would…Beth…I...do you want to divorce me?”

“No!”

“Then why the hell are we having this conversation!”

She looked at him and then slowly her big blue eyes filled with tears.

“It’s no so much George” she said quietly. “It’s Anne. I don’t know how to be me without Anne…”

And slowly her big blue eyes overflowed with tears. Charles hauled her  into his arms and wrapped the blanket tighter around her cold body and hugged her close.

And Beth…

Finally, finally, Beth Brandon started to cry.

Chapter Text

You think you know a story but you only know how it ends…and then something comes along and changes the story somewhat.

Or maybe it does not. Sometimes somethings cannot change the course of one’s fate.

But they can add to it.

In the case of Anne Boleyn the little girl from Kent it add to it. In spades.

Fate had no idea what to do about Anne Boleyn, the woman determined to go down in history as the most ambitions woman imaginable. Fate knew what to make of her sister Mary a year younger. Mary Boleyn was a royal mistress turned mother of two bastards. Mary Boleyn was the most merry whore imaginable. That was the best that a family could do with a King like Henry VIII as he grew more and more aware of the realities of not having a son.

But Elizabeth Howard-Boleyn’s childbed journey was supposed to stop there. George the eldest, Anne the most famous and Mary the most fair. She was not supposed to have another child after that.

And yet there had been one.

A baby girl born on the coldest night in winter tumbling out of her mother as easy as she had been put there—well—considering Thomas Boleyn and his wife could not stand each other that was by the by but the point of the matter was that there was another Boleyn girl in the cradle.

Thomas Boleyn hid his disappointment as best a man in his situation could. Boys were a rare commodity—even the King could not keep one but he did comfort himself with the knowledge that daughters too could prove useful, he wanted to climb the social ladder and one had to admit that another daughter was not the worst that could happen.

And at least the little mite was fair like Mary…Anne was dark and mysterious, Mary as fair as milk and honey but this girl had big blue eyes and a dark hue of blonde hair on her head that would go a shade darker from Mary’s honeyed looks so that she would look like burnt sunshine.

They decided to call the little mite Elizabeth after her mother who soon perished from her own travails in childbed and Thomas let the maids and his servants raise his four children until it was time for them to go to court. Mary and Anne and then later Beth as she was known were all shipped off to France and George he sent to court to learn his trade at his side.

And that is when our story starts. When the King of England comes to France and the three Boleyn girls are all there.

So to speak.

“Is it to be Jane Seymour?” Anne had asked ideally as if she did not care of the answer.

“Yes”

Anne nodded. “Maybe she will have the boy I couldn’t have then”

“Maybe”

Anne nodded. “I did love him” she said quietly. “I do still love him. I do not expect anything from him but…but life…” she shook her head. “Life is so precious…if you want my advice then do not squander it. Be brave, be bold, be a whore if that’s what you want but enjoy your life because in this world it really can be taken away tomorrow”

“Anne…I did not want this. And I certainly did not want Jane Seymour on the throne and…and I will make sure Elizabeth knows that this is a slanderous amount of charges being forced against you.”

“I know you did not. And I thank you. It has always been gratifying to have a sparing partner worthy of the name. And you were right. Fortune’s wheel, I rise upwards and I come downwards and I have gone as high as a woman can go and I have fallen just as hard…will he be happy?”

“I do not know. He will tell himself he will be happy. But I do not think he will be. I do not know if there is anything that would make Henry happy. The problem is...he has always wanted more. He is more like his father than he would ever want to admit.”

Anne said nothing. It was enough. It was always enough. She had never been able to settle for enough but if she had…Henry as a man, not as a King would have been enough. Her as the mistress and not as the Queen would have been enough.

But that was the curse of the Boleyn family. They never did understand their limitations. And it had brought them to this. The death of their heir. And the death of her.

Beth hugged her and Anne hugged her back and she tried to say all that she could in that one hug, her hopes and dreams and fears and her love…my God the love she had felt for her silly baby sister who had turned her back away from the throne and made the most happiest of marriages. Who had not wanted the King, never wanted the King and had instead got the King’s best friend.

It was too brief a hug and too long.

Beth looked at her evenly and Anne smiled back. She tried to feel the imprint of her sister’s fingers but then Beth was gone.

She did not look back which was exactly how Anne had taught her to walk.

Instead she walked forwards.

It was the last time Anne Boleyn thought she would see her sister again.

But not really.

All it cost her, Anne thought.

It was not worth it.

“Whose that from?” Mary asked as she came into the room.

“Brandon”

“Must be playing the long game then” Mary said with a smile. “Brandon is a friend to the King first, I got some flowers when Henry was born if I recall”

She smiled but she was hardly listening.

“What did he have to say?”

She thought about the last bit of that letter.

My duty and feelings to you as a man might be slightly more dubious.

“Nothing” she said turning to Mary a smile on her face that masked her rapidly beating heart.

“Nothing important anyway”

Beth had gone with him. Mary had been unable to face it and Charles had really not thought it a good idea but Beth had refused point blank to do anything but go. She wanted Anne to have someone to look at in the crowd in case the crowd as it had been with George had been hostile. Anne on the other hand had come out utterly composed. She did not falter, she did not struggle or faint or have to be dragged anywhere. She composed herself with a dignity that could not be unmatched.

She dropped her necklace into Ellie’s palm and then her earrings into Catherine’s and then she waved them away and Beth felt rather than saw William Stafford melt into the crowd to get their girls. She found however that her eyes were on her sister and for a second, one second her sister looked at her.

Beth and Anne locked eyes.

For a moment the two of them stared at the other and then Anne smiled. Something hit Beth from behind and she turned to see Mary there. Beth stared as everyone began to pray.

“Thought you weren’t coming?”

“Were the three Boleyn girls” Mary said quietly. “It’s not a question of coming. George knew we were there with him. She has to know that we are there for her”

Beth nodded and sucked in one long breath. The air was cool on her face.

Anne was speaking now.

God she always did have to put on a show.

“Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak anything of that, whereof I am accused and condemned to die, but I pray God save the king and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler nor a more merciful prince was there never: and to me he was ever a good, a gentle and sovereign lord. And if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. And thus I take my leave of the world and of you all, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me. O Lord have mercy on me, to God I commend my soul.”

And then she turned and paid her own swordsmen.

“Don’t worry Mary, I only have a little neck!”

She turned and she took one long look at the crowd of people who were…

Jesus Christ they were kneeling.

Anne caught her gaze and she smiled once as if to acknowledge the irony, the fickleness of the entire thing.

Here she was, once the most hated woman in England because she was loved by the King and here she was, hated by the King but finally, finally loved by the people of England. Or at least today.

Oh the irony of fortune’s wheel! It had seen her risen to Queen and then seen her reduced to this.

Anne put off her French hood and then put on her little white cap. She paused over the blindfold and she stared at the two of them. Beth was pretty sure it was going to be one hell of a story when the King found out. Everyone kneeling including her husband but the two Boleyn girls standing there out in the open as bold as the whores Catherine of Aragon had proclaimed them to be looking at the third.

Anne smiled. Mary gripped Beth’s hand. Beth smiled back.

For a second it was the three of them and then Anne knelt down dignified to the last.

She turned her head at the last minute as if she wanted to look at the birds on the tower and the swordsman…

One flash of silver and it was over.

It was over…

It was over…

There were not enough words in the English language to describe Beth’s grief.

They were heading back to Suffolk house. The boys were playing on the boat glad to have some freedom. Ellie was asleep. Beth was leaning over the side. Stafford and his family had already gotten off and they were sailing again. Beth had pulled off her hood and her net and was letting her golden hair flow in the breeze.

“I am with child again” she said to Charles.

“I know” Charles said evenly. “I think I will sit this wedding out”

Beth smiled with no malice in her face.

“I won’t call her Anne if it’s a girl”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did” he said casually. “But right now it might be a bit red flag to the bull”

She nodded and she turned to look at him.

“I am glad it’s over” she said quietly. “I am. One way or the other. I am glad its over. All it cost her for that throne. It wasn’t worth it.  I…I want to go back to living with you peacefully in the country, I want to raise my children in peace, I want to pray in my own house of God, I don’t want the acrid smoke of court anymore Charles, I just want you in my bed”

“Aye” he said. “I will have to go back though. And you will have to go back too”

“I know. But…but not for a while?”

He nodded and felt the sun on his face. He had taken off his hat and he saw Ellie slip out of the side of the boat wrapped in her shawl. She had been sleeping most of the day shock and exhaustion, Charles knew in her hand she had that strand of pearls and that damn B in the middle. That necklace that had defined Anne so much.

“Elizabeth is waiting for us when we return. Kat Ashley moved her in this morning”

Beth turned to look at him.

“You…”

“I wrote to Henry, said it was easier. He…he wants the problem to go away, out of sight out of mind. This way you go to, and he keeps me,”

“You would have Anne’s daughter in our house?”

“I am not completely heartless!”

“No” she said quietly. “No Charles I think you have the biggest heart out of all of us I…thank you”

She slipped into his arms and Charles took her and held her and wondered if there was ever a love like the one he felt for her.

Beth laughed and he realised he had said the last bit out loud.

“I can think of one exception” she said and he smiled at her.

It was not the end of the story of course. There was another baby, the death of her father, the death of her sister, four more wives to get through. A return to court, another Howard girl on the throne and another Howard girl executed and then finally the acknowledgement that mortality came to an end, that time creeps up on them and that death will inevitably come as a friend.

But she felt no fear. Because there was Anne, there was Mary, George, Anthony…and far out in the green, green hills of England waiting for her was Charles and his smile was as dangerous and as warm and as intoxicating as it was that first day that she had met him in France when she had been young and she’d had everything, everything to play for.