#or the duke of suffolk in the book saying he knows for a fact she practiced oral sex on dildos in france? like.................

[fideidefenswhore]

Never ended up adding this, but: 

I don’t believe DM ‘woobified’ Thomas Cromwell, but I see some sort of marriage of narrative in his own biographical apologism & the depiction in Mantel’s series and its adaptation that filed off some his sharper, less palatable, edges, including the TV adaptation (if not literal marriage, then certainly a feature now of this sort of Cromwell-focused subgenre/...fandom?). It’s Cromwell holding a kitten that we see, not Cromwell introducing a bill for the utter abolition of sanctuaries, Cromwell gently scolding an imperious Anne who insists Thomas More should be tortured ( ‘we don’t do that, madame’), rather than Cromwell as the orchestrator of the rather torturous executions of John and Alice Wolfe. In so many of these scenes, the characters opposite Cromwell feel like strawmen-- an irony, from an author that so often derided that infamous author of so many strawmen arguments where he came out the moral and intellectual victor, himself...

I also don’t think the criticism of misogyny as it concerns AB’s character in this series, the original source material nor the adapted TV series, is proportional to how eye-watering it was (dismissed because she’s so auxiliary, maybe...?). There is literally a scene where Anne tries to facilitate the seduction (and probable rape) of a teenage girl (presumably inspired by a dispatch of Chapuys in which he does not even report that there’s any rumor of this plot, just that he believes she might do so, that it is the goal and potential method of the isolation), as Cromwell stands on in silent, long-suffering, morally reproving judgement (which emerges as a pattern, another scene later or before is him being the calming voice of reason as she squawks in outrage at the wording of the Act of Succession). Paired with the absolute Mary Sue gender-equivalent of this character (in TMATL, even his own daughter-in-law wants to fuck him), it’s just nauseating. 

[lebguardians]

This will be the first “story” I’ve ever written. Woke up today kinda of wanting to write but definitely scared 😂. Don’t know if this would even go anywhere. I love Charles Brandon’s character development in the Tudors and there isn’t many fanfics on his character so I figured I’d give it a go? Maybe?

Warnings: angst, fluff, eventual smut, feel free to message me if you feel I should add some.

I don’t have a title idea, so if someone does after reading it let me know and I’ll definitely give you credit.

The Lady Y/N Windhelm was sent to court after the rebellion in the north to make sure her father, the Duke of Windhelm, stayed loyal. Y/N never agreed with the rebellion against His Majesty, she begged and pleaded with her father to stop his part in the rebellion. When the fighting was done and over, the only reason he wasn’t hanged as a traitor was because her father was good friend’s with King Henry’s father.

Forever branded as the traitors daughter, Y/N did everything she could to blend in with the crowd towards the back at some feast she was forced to attend. She was a shy girl, not that she had anyone to talk to if she could. No one wanted to be associated with her. It was no surprise she was unwed either. Standing at 5’1, she was a slim woman, dark brown hair that reached her bottom, fair skin, blue eyes. Currently she was pressed against a wall, almost trying to blend it with it as to not be seen, her long hair thrown up into a simple hairstyle, and wearing the plainest dress she owned. She prayed no one recognized her.

She looks around the crowd with a sigh. The king with his wife were at the high table laughing and eating, both of whom were surrounded by His Majesty’s counsel. All seemed to be having a good time besides the King’s best friend, the Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon. He seemed to be in the middle of another argument with his wife.

Feeling the air getting too hot, Y/N decided to take a step outside to get some fresh air and maybe sneak away back to her room. If she had it her way. She would stay there with her books and needlework. Y/N stepped toward the edge of a balcony and leaned over, enjoying the feeling of the cool spring breeze on her flushed face. She hated wearing these cursed dresses. They are so hot and uncomfortable. She lost herself in though looking out to the trees. She longed to return to the north. The rolling green hills, the sea, riding on her horse for hours, mostly until the moon was high in the sky. She smilied faintly at the memory of her father being so enraged when she came back way too late for his liking. His face beat red with anger and worry. Then the horror passing through his face when he noticed she was wearing trousers before shaking his head and letting out a deep laugh at his only daughter’s shananigans. Y/N missed him deeply.

Y/N was lost to her thoughts and lost track of time. She startled suddenly when a door slammed behind her. She quickly turned and saw the Duke of Suffolk. He looked very angry, his jaw clinched, fists balled up. He looks up and noticed that he startled Y/N. The Duke had brought her back to court on His majesty’s orders. Quite literally kicking and screaming for her father. The sound of her screams stayed with the Duke. The Duke sighed deeply and said,

“Forgive me, my lady. I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

Y/N curtsied, her body beginning to fill with rage at the sight of the Duke. She swore to herself that she would never forgive him for ripping her away from her home and family. “Your Grace.” She replied stiffly. “I was just leaving” she quickly walked past him, wanting nothing more than to run to her room and shake the memories away. The Duke stepped to the side letting her pass, a guilty look passing through his handsome face. The Duke let out a sigh, wiping a hand over his beard. The Dutchess informing him eariler that she was returning to Suffolk with their son and not returning. Rolling his eyes at their argument. He didn’t blame her. Not really. He loved her deeply but he know she would never love him again.

He walked to the edge of the balcony where Lady Y/N stood earlier. He know she was miserable. Who could blame her. He begged for his friend to reconsider bringing her here. He know court would not be kind to the girl. Charles heard the gossip about her around court. The horrids things said to her and behind her back. He heard her soft cries when he passed her room. Taking a deep drink of his wine, he stood straight and headed back into the hall.

Lady Y/N was making her way back to her room, praying no one would see her tears. She heard a group of the Queen’s maidens, laughing about her. Saying thing like she would never find a husband and eventually the King would be bored with her embarrassment and send her to a convent. She finally reached her room and quickly started shedding the layers of her dress, before dressing into something comfortable for the night. She fell asleep crying.

6 months later.

Charles Brandon grew increasingly worried about Y/N. It was noticeable that she has lost quite a bit of weight and that she barley eats a thing, only leaving her room when commanded. Her face has lost all its color and then circles under her eyes quite noticeable. The Queen, Jane Seymour, taking notice as well.

The Queen was kind to Y/N. Most mornings breaking fast with her in private as to not spark more rumors. She worried about her greatly and has tried to persuade the king to send her home with no luck. When she was finally able to get Y/N to open up and talk, y/n spoke often for her love of the north and how much she missed it and her father.

After eating his food, Charles decided to talk to the king about sending y/n back. He worried she would get sickly and die and didn’t want another death on his already heavy conscience. He walked to the king’s quarters.

“His Grace, the Duke of Suffolk”, he heard the groomsmen announce.

“Ah Charles, I was just going to send for you, come sit” the king stated joyfully.

Charles raised an eyebrow at the king’s joyful mood. “His majesty seems to be in a good mood today.” He noted. The king smirked before handing him a letter. Charles furrowed his eyebrows, opened the letter, quickly reading it. His head snapped up to the king, he ran a hand through his grown out curls, and then ran a hand down his face.

“Forgive me, your majesty, but I’m confused” his mind was racing. A million different thoughts running through it. The king finding a loophole, allowing Charles to divorce his wife and marry again if he so chooses. Catherine made it quite clear she wouldn’t love him again nor would allow him to bed her. The King was able to use this and allow for a divorce on the grounds that Her Grace wouldn’t fullfill her duties.

“What’s there to be confused about Charles, it’s clear your miserable. You don’t smile nor joke as you used to my friend. I worry for you” the King replied, taking a bite of some foreign fruit Charles hasn’t seen before. “In any case it’s done and now settled. You are no longer married to Catherine. Don’t think I haven’t already noticed you eyeing another. A certain lady of Windhelm” the king said with a smirk on his face.

A shocked look passed over the Duke of Suffolk’s face. “Your majesty, it’s not like that at all. I’m concerned for the girl. She’s gotten quite sickly and depressed. I came here today to beg of your mercy and allow her to return home.”

A very angry look passed over the king’s face as he stood up. “I’ve already made it quite clear to my wife that I won’t tolerate in meddling and that includes the you as well Charles. The girl is staying here as assurance her father won’t rebel again. They are both lucky I didn’t take their heads. The only mercy she’s getting is me allowing her to marry and not be sent off to some convent.”

Charles was getting very irritated and seeing where the king was going with this. “So what, you’ll force the poor girl to marry me, making her even more miserable? She won’t marry me. I’m the one who ripped her from her home and family and everything she’s ever known. She can’t even look at me without running scared. Forcing me to marry into yet another unhappy marriage? What game are you playing at?”

The king was enraged and slammed his fist down and began yelling. “You’ll marry the girl and that’s the end of it. You remember, you owe me after what you pulled with my sister, Charles. I may have forgiven you but I haven’t forgotten. You will marry her and ensure her loyalty to me and secure that her family remains loyal. The north looks to her family for whatever reason. If they stay loyal the rest will fall in line.” The king stood and stormed out the room. Neither of them realizing some of the Queen’s maidens overheard them arguing about this and decide to make their way to y/n.

Charles stormed out. Everyone moving out of his way seeing just how angry he is. He paced his quarters, his curls a mess from him running his hands through them so often out of frustration. How would he be able to break the news gently to y/n? What he didn’t realize was the women that overheard already telling y/n for no reason other than to be jealous over the fact they werent able to marry the handsome Duke.

Y/n was sitting under a tree working on a needlework, enjoying the sunny spring day for once. She decided to take the Queen’s advice and get out of her room. She was depressed and very home sick. She knew her dresses didn’t fit as they did before and she didn’t have much of an appetite. The Queen was very kind to her. She thought it was apart of a game when the Queen approached her. She quickly realized how kind of a woman the Queen is and began so slowly open up to her. She enjoyed the morning that they ate together.

Y/n heard footsteps approach her. She looked up and saw it was the Queen’s maidens and quickly looked down and picked up her work and stood up to walk away in hopes they would leave her be. She quickly remembered why she didn’t leave her room unless forced to. They called her name and giggled.

“Can I help you with something” y/n said politely. They giggled again.

“Have you heard?” The one on the right asked while the one of the left kept giggling.

“Heard what exactly?” Y/n asked cautiously.

“The king in mercy is allowing you to marry” the left one stated with clear amusement. Y/n grew pale and her hands began to shake.

The one on the right noticed her state. “Yes we heard the king arguing with the Duke of Suffolk not long ago. It seems the king has found a way for the Duke to divorce his wife and has arranged your marriage to him”

A cold sweat breaks out across y/n. She turns and quickly walks off all but running back to her room. Her mind is racing. How is this mercy? Being forced to marry the man that ripped her from her family? A part of her knew that it was on the kings orders and that he was the unfortunate one to have to follow. But she still blamed him.

She barley noticed the people she was passing, not even realizing she rushed past Charles so quickly he almost didn’t notice. She was beginning to hyperventilate, her breath coming in and out quietly, tears streaming down her pale face. Cursing the tight dress she was forced to wear she heard her name being called and a hand on her arm. She looked up to see none other than Charles Brandon himself.

“Let me go” she spit out. All she wanted to do was hide in her room.

“Lady y/n, wait, what’s wrong?” Charles asked very concerned at her current state. Anger flashed through her eyes.

“As if you don’t know what’s already wrong Your Grace.” Y/n breathing quickened. Guilt passed through the Duke’s eyes before confusion.

“My Lady, please I only just found out myself. How could you have found out so quickly. I was just coming to tell you myself”. Charles tried to reason. Y/n snorted

“You know as well as I that secrets don’t stay secrets for long in this hell.” She was beginning to see black edges in her vision. She was scared and panicking.

“My lady, you need to breathe” Charles told her as she began to wobble on her feet.

“No, I won’t do it, I won’t marry you” she gasped out, shaking like a leaf “I want to go home. I want my father” she cried before her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out.

“Fuck!” Charles exclaimed, catching her before she hit the ground. “Go get a damned doctor and send them to my quarters” he cursed at a nearby guards. Charles picked her up and walked quickly back to his quarters, laying her down on his bed. He stepped out the room and allowed the doctor to look over her. He sat in his chair in front of the massive fireplace and stared into the fire. Not looking up as the doctor came out.

“Lady y/n will be alright and needs rest and nourishment. She is very thin and has been through. Shock”

Charles said nothing and nodded his head not moving from his spot. He let out a big sigh, running a hand through his hair. He hopes he can one day earn her forgiveness or they will both remain miserable.

Let me know what you think!

[goodticklebrain]

POCKET BLOGS: Saye Anything

Hey everyone! Mya here. I’m really excited today to introduce a new feature here on Good Tickle Brain: POCKET BLOGS! As regular readers will know, since 2019 I have been working on my comics with the world’s first, foremost, and possibly only pocket dramaturg, Kate Pitt. (For more on Kate, including the etymology of the term “pocket dramaturg”, check out this Q&A with her.)

Kate is, if anything, an even bigger Shakespeare geek than me, and certainly has a bigger Shakespeare brain. I will often text her a random Shakespeare fact and say “Isn’t this cool?”, only to receive back “YES, and…” followed by a dozen more related facts, complete with footnotes. As I am taking the month off, I thought it only fair to share some of her delightful geekery and expertise with all of you.

So sit back and get ready to peer into some of the most geeky, random, and entertaining corners of the Shakespeare-verse with Good Tickle Brain’s new series of POCKET BLOGS!

Spare a thought for poor Lord Saye. The ill-fated lord’s entrance in Henry VI Part II is often overlooked because he arrives at the same time as Queen Margaret. Margaret makes consistently dramatic entrances across the four Shakespeare plays she appears in and there is an excellent chance that someone is about to be stabbed, slapped, or screamed at if she is nearby. 

In this scene, Margaret enters carrying the severed head of her very dead ex-lover the Duke of Suffolk, and talks affectionately to it while her husband King Henry desperately tries to work out how to put down a major rebellion. 

Saye is in the middle of all this and spends most of his first scene (and he’s only got two) standing around awkwardly while the King and Queen talk to everyone who isn’t him. It can’t feel great to be ignored in favor of someone who is missing his trunk and all of his limbs, and when King Henry finally turns towards Saye it is to point out that the advancing rebels would very much like to turn his head into a tote bag just like Suffolk’s.

Cue the awkward laughter and a messenger running in with the news that the rebels have arrived and everyone present who still has their heels should immediately betake themselves to them and get out of town. King Henry reminds Lord Saye that everyone hates him (because he raised taxes and can speak French) and he should probably join the bravely-running-away royals. 

Lord Saye however, declares that he will stay and face the rebels. He is innocent after all. Why should he flee when he has done nothing wrong? At this point, practiced Shakespearean audiences will be reaching for the popcorn. Declaring innocence never ever (ever) works when attempting to avoid unpleasant consequences in Shakespeare and indeed, Lord Saye is captured less than forty lines later and dragged before the rebels to be interrogated. 

Jack Cade, the leader of the rebellion, accuses Saye of such abominable crimes as printing, teaching grammar to children, and dressing his horse in excessively fancy horse-clothes. Saye is definitely not guilty of the first indictment, as this scene takes place in 1450 and the first books in England weren’t printed until at least twenty-five years later.

Regardless, the rebels continue to hurl increasingly ridiculous accusations at Lord Saye – “thou hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb” – while he confidently bats them aside by speaking Latin and quoting Caesar’s Commentaries. Not necessarily the best strategy when negotiating with angry men with pikes, but Saye also demonstrates that he can speak eloquently in plain English: 

Tell me, wherein have I offended most? Have I affected wealth or honor? Speak. Are my chests filled up with extorted gold? Is my apparel sumptuous to behold? Whom have I injured, that you seek my death? These hands are free from guiltless blood-shedding, This breast from harboring foul deceitful thoughts. O, let me live! 

Lord Saye’s contention that his hands are “free from guiltless blood-shedding” is equivocal, given that he menacingly indicates elsewhere that he has definitely shed some blood: “Great men have reaching hands. Oft have I struck those that I never saw, and struck them dead.” There were rumors that Saye was involved in the murder of Henry VI’s uncle Duke Humphrey, though Shakespeare depicts that death as definitely Suffolk’s fault.

In addition to being a cunning politician and a huge classics nerd, Lord Saye is also a war hero. Jack Cade contemptuously challenges him, “when struck’st thou one blow in the field?” but Saye fought with Henry V in France. He is now in his mid-fifties and past his fighting days (the rebels mock his palsy) but Lord Saye feels that his prior service to his country should save his life. 

Cade disagrees. Even though he admits, “I feel remorse in myself with his words”, he orders Saye to be dragged offstage and beheaded. The rebels also break into Saye’s son-in-law’s house and behead him too. They then put both their heads on pikes and parade around London smushing the heads together to make them look like they are kissing because the rebels are apparently twelve. 

Lord Saye is one in a long line of Shakespeare characters who appear briefly and die quickly. Cinna the Poet in Caesar, Young Seward and The Family Macduff in Macbeth, Cornwall’s servant in Lear: all of their deaths, like Saye’s, serve to make the bad guys look worse. However, Jack Cade and his crew have already murdered innocent people before Saye comes on the scene, so what does his death teach the audience that they don’t already know? Dramatically, there may be an argument for cutting this scene. Next week however, I’ll explain the extravagantly silly reasons why I am delighted by Lord Saye and think he should be in every production. (Hint: he’s related to Shakespeare!)

by Kate Pitt

[the-busy-ghost]

About the same time a certain young girl called Joan appeared from Lorraine, saying that she had been sent by the Most High to repel and weaken the plans of the English. Along with 2000 men given to her by the king of France she approached Orleans with food supplies, sending a herald on ahead with a letter bidding the besiegers in the name of the Omnipotent Deity leave the city and France; otherwise she threatened them with miraculous penalties. But they spurned the messenger with a deaf ear and did not deign to send her any answer. Wearing a man’s suit of armour everywhere, she sent supplies into the city by boats, took possession of the siege-towers, killed Glasdale himself and more than six hundred men, entered the city and brought most merciful comfort to the citizens. From there she returned to the king at Tours, and after collecting a larger army returned to Orleans with the duke of Alençon and the constable of France and raised the siege. The English withdrew to the town of Meung-sur-Loire, and following behind she engaged them in a fight in open country. 3000 Englishmen were killed there, but scarcely twenty among the French and Scots. Lord Talbot and Lord Scales were captured [and fear of the Maid much alarmed the English]. Next she proceeded to lay siege to the town of Jargeau and took it by storm, capturing there the earl of Suffolk and his two brothers. As a result and on the Maid’s advice the king went to the city of Rheims in Champagne and there was crowned and anointed with the oil in the sacred vessel brought [as it is said] by an angel to Charlemagne. At this time the bishop who ruled the church of Orleans was a Scot, Master John Kirkmichael. Leaving a garrison at Rheims the king moved to the city of Senlis, which was handed over to him, and then to St Denis, which was also delivered to him. Leaving the king there, the Maid approached Paris with 10,000 men and attacked it [fearlessly]; many in the king's army fell wounded there from the shooting of missiles, crossbow-bolts, stones and arrows, and the Maid herself was pierced in both thighs by the impact of a bolt. When he heard of this, the king moved to Orleans and she was conveyed to 'Valeis'. After recovering there she was moved to Compiegne; after discovery there and capture by the English and Burgundians, she was sent to Rouen, where by judgement of Sir John the regent she was confined in a cask and burned. She conferred many benefits on France and struck terror among the English for the time being; but what spirit it was that gave her courage, only He that knows all knows. On the fore-finger of her left hand, to be sure, she wore a ring which she used to watch incessantly, as someone who saw this has told me.

- “Short description of Joan of Arc’s career in Walter Bower’s “Scotichronicon”, written c.1440-47. Translated from the Latin by D.E.R. Watt in volume 8 of his edition of the Scotichronicon.

Obviously to be taken with a pinch of salt and perhaps not amazingly original but still interesting an interesting perspective I think. An abridged version of the Scotichronicon known as the book of Pluscarden was also made in the mid-fifteenth century. Though the author is anonymous he claimed to have had personal experience of events in France, both during the Hundred Years War and later when serving in the household of Margaret of Scotland, dauphine of France (d.1445). In the prologue of this chronicle he explains that he intends to cover:

“facts happening in our own time, leaving out useless trifles and fruitless rubbish not pertinent to the subject, and by recording and introducing them together with some other wonderful doings which I who write have known, seen and heard of out of this country; as also, lastly, about a certain marvellous maid who brought about the recovery of the kingdom of France out of the hands of the tyrant Henry king of England, and whom I saw and knew, and in whose company I was: I was present during her endeavours for the said recovery up to her life’s end.”

Which is perhaps not an unusual claim but another interesting reminder of the close collaboration of the Scots and French during this part of the war (even despite the caution of the king of Scotland) I always find it interesting to consider how the Scots would have viewed Joan, especially since they didn’t have to consider the more complex problems the French had at that point re: civil war paired with war against the English. Here is an old translation of the book of Pluscarden which is where I got the quote.

[petersasteria]

The Forces of Nature || Ch.4

Pairing: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader

Summary: “There’s this kid out there that can control the wind or something. I think she’s a great addition to the team. Let’s recruit her.”

SERIES MASTERLIST  ||  PP MASTERLIST

Click the pictures for better quality and I still can’t believe I actually did this chapter with maximum effort lmao bc I actually studied so yeah have fun learning

Today was the day of Y/N and Peter's presentation about Queen Elizabeth I and Y/N wasn't nervous at all. She was confident about their presentation. Plus, their slide designs looked really cute and refreshing to look at. Y/N's outfit that day was a modernized version of a dress from the Elizabethan era. She designed it herself and she was proud of the outcome and that she got it done in time. Eunice helped, of course.

The sleeves were short and slightly puffed. The skirt went until her knees and it had layers underneath to make it puffy as well. The body of her dress was tight fitted because of the corset. The dress had a boat neckline and her only accessory was a pastel choker. In fact, her whole dress was pastel colored and her hair was styled in loose curls.

When Peter entered the room, Y/N was reading her book in her seat. Peter sat next to her and sensing his presence, Y/N turned to him and smiled, "Good morning, Peter."

"G'morning, Y/N." Peter gave her a tight-smile as he set his bag down. Y/N continued reading and without looking up from her book, she said, "C'mon say something about my outfit. I feel like you have something to say about it. You always do."

"How did you know that?" Peter asked. Y/N looked at him and smiled, "I can tell. Just say it. No hard feelings."

Peter cleared his throat and took a good look at her. He didn't have anything insulting to say. However, he said, "You look like you came out of a Melanie Martinez music video."

"She was part of the inspiration for this design." Y/N chuckled. "She's amazing."

Peter didn't get to say anything because Mrs. Johnson walked in the room causing Y/N to place a bookmark on the page she was reading and putting it in her bag.

"Who will present today?" Mrs. Johnson asked. Peter and Y/N raised their hands and Mrs. Johnson smiled, "Ahh, the geniuses. I expect a great presentation. The floor is yours."

Y/N took the flash drive from her pocket and handed it to Peter which was a subtle way of telling him to set it up. Mrs. Johnson walked to the back of the classroom and sat on the chair where observers usually sit. Y/N patiently waited as Peter sets up the whole thing. When it was ready, Y/N mouthed a small 'thank you' to Peter who just smiled and nodded.

"Hi everyone! Peter and I will be talking about Queen Elizabeth I's early life until she became queen. We were told not to tackle her reign as queen because someone else will be presenting that." Y/N introduced and explained.

"Yes, please proceed." Mrs. Johnson smiled.

Peter clicked the next slide.

Peter cleared his throat and racked his brains for what he remembered. He and Y/N agreed that he'd explain the basic ones and would pipe in if he could remember some parts of her life.

"Queen Elizabeth I was born on September 7, 1533. She was the only child of King Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. If you don't know who Anne Boleyn is, she's Henry's second wife and she got executed for treason." Peter said. "Anyway, since Anne Boleyn got executed before Elizabeth's third birthday, Elizabeth was left discarded and removed from succession of the throne."

"It was kind of complicated because Elizabeth and her sister, Mary, were due a certain level of care and they'd be in and out of favor depending on King Henry VIII's mood and marital status. I mean, what kind of father would do that?" Peter said with so many emotions. Y/N was in shock that he actually read everything, but she was also proud that he did so.

"Eventually, they realized that Elizabeth was a 'highly prized potential wife'." Peter said in air quotes. "I air quoted 'highly prized potential wife' because spoiler alert to those who don't know: SHE DIDN'T GET MARRIED. She's not called The Virgin Queen for nothing, guys."

"And because she was a 'highly prized potential wife', she was well educated and her education was first rate. She excelled in languages! She was intelligent, articulate, and open-minded. In short, she was ahead of her time. I mean, that's my opinion, of course." Peter said.

"Why do you think she was ahead of her time, Mr. Parker?" Mrs. Johnson asked.

"Because she was open-minded before anyone else. All of us have already evolved and we all keep evolving and growing as a society and yet there are people who are still so close-minded about things. If Elizabeth was open-minded since the 1530's, why aren't we all open-minded now?" Peter answered which made Y/N smile. It made Mrs. Johnson smile too and nodded for Peter to continue.

"And because she was well educated and stuff, she grew up quickly. It was great that she matured so fast but it suddenly didn't feel great when her brother, Edward VI, became King of England in 1547." Peter started. "Henry's widow, Catherine Parr, married soon after Henry's death. She married Thomas Seymour."

"It was reinstated under the terms of Henry's will that Elizabeth would be Edward VI's successor. She was under the care of Catherine Parr and living in her household. At the age of 14, Elizabeth first attracted male attention." Peter said.

"Not much is to be known about Thomas Seymour except for the fact that he was power hungry and in my opinion, a pedophile. I based that opinion from the fact that Thomas Seymour, in his late 30's might I add, engaged in appropriate behavior with Elizabeth. When Catherine discovered that, Thomas assured her that it was all innocent. One day, Catherine found Thomas and Elizabeth alone together in an embrace and because of that, Elizabeth was sent away in May 1548."

A classmate named Cindy raised her hand. Peter looked at her and said, "Yes?"

"Was Elizabeth okay after that?" Cindy asked. Peter grinned, "Good question."

"Yes, she was okay. Being sent away made it easy for her to move on from all of it, but only for a short time." Peter answered. "It was only a short time because when Catherine Parr died in... October, was it?" He looked at Y/N for help.

Y/N continued where Peter left off, "When Catherine Parr died in September 1548, Thomas Seymour tried to renew his relationship with Elizabeth. Of course, he failed. So, he manipulated Edward VI."

"Why did he do all those things?" Flash asked.

"Well, he was power hungry and he wanted to secure his authority that's why he did what he did. Thomas was arrested in 1549 for his inappropriate behavior towards Elizabeth and plots to overthrow his brother who was the Lord Protector of England. That same year, he was executed." Y/N shrugged as Flash nodded. Peter clicked the next slide.

"Being Edward VI's sister, she caused little trouble compared to her sister, Mary, who went against the King's orders. When Edward VI fell ill in 1553, he went against Henry VIII's wishes and disinherited his sisters. Although his main issue was with Mary because of her very Catholic beliefs, disinheriting her would mean that he'd have to disinherit Elizabeth as well." Y/N reported.

"Well, that sucks." Flash commented.

"Indeed." Y/N said in agreement. "Anyway, when Edward died, Lady Jane Grey became queen... only for 9 days, though."

"A queen for 9 days? Why only 9 days? Did she die too?" Austin asked.

Y/N shook her head, "Nope."

"Who is she, anyway? She came out of nowhere!" Nadine exclaimed. "It's like she came there unannounced or something."

Y/N went to the board and grabbed a chalk and drew a chart of the Tudors for their classmates to understand. Peter stared at her in awe. "This girl knows her shit." Peter muttered under his breath as he crossed his arms out of habit.

Y/N turned to face everyone and started explaining, "Okay so let's start at the beginning. Henry VII and Elizabeth York are married and they had four children, namely: Arthur, Henry, Margaret, and Mary Tudor. Henry VIII and Jane Seymour had a son; Edward VI. Unfortunately, Jane Seymour died during childbirth."

"Anyway, Henry VIII's sister, Mary Tudor, married Charles Brandon the First Duke of Suffolk. They had a daughter, Frances Grey which makes her and Edward VI cousins. She married Henry Grey and they had a daughter who we all know as Jane Grey, the nine-day queen. In short, Jane Grey is Edward VI's niece." Y/N explained. "I hope that answers your question, Nadine."

"It did, thanks." Nadine said.

"I think it's weird that she's his niece." Allison mumbled.

"Now to answer Austin's question," Y/N said as she put down the chalk and rubbed her hands together to remove the chalk dust. Peter offered her a hand sanitizer which she gladly took and put some on her hands before giving it back to Peter and rubbing it on both of her hands.

"When Edward VI was dying, he disinherited both of his sisters and made Jane Grey his successor. So when he actually died in 1553, Jane Grey became queen. She was only queen for 9 days because the public basically didn't want her, they wanted Mary, Henry VIII's eldest and Edward VI's sister, to be queen instead. When Mary became queen, she wanted Jane Grey to be executed but she was spared upon the wish of the ones in the Holy Roman Empire. She was still a prisoner in the Tower, of course. Then she actually got executed when she refused to convert." Y/N explained. Austin nodded and took notes, "Thanks, Y/N."

"Okay so, now we all know that Mary became queen because the public wanted it. Elizabeth's life changed once again when her sister became queen and she now lived with her sister at court. Mary decided to reinstate the Catholic faith and of course it caused an uproar and such. Then this man named Thomas Wyatt started a revolt against Mary and it all just went downhill from there. In stark comparison to her irrational sister, Mary, Elizabeth became a figure of reason and enlightenment."

"Elizabeth was removed from the throne once more and after the rebellion was quashed, Elizabeth was interrogated because Mary suspected that Elizabeth took part in the said rebellion. There was no proof that Elizabeth had taken part in the rebellion, but she was taken to the Tower of London where she stayed for two months. In there, she was repeatedly interrogated and questioned. She never wavered from the protestations of her innocence and her love for her sister. Then Elizabeth left her prison for Woodstock and she was in house arrest there for nearly a year and the public was beginning to side with Elizabeth because Mary was getting crazy and out of hand. Elizabeth remained under house arrest until Mary came up with something to remove the threat."

"What was the threat?" Angelica asked.

"Elizabeth's ever-growing popularity was the threat." Y/N answered. "That's why she was sent to Woodstock."

"As Mary was thinking of a way to get rid of Elizabeth, she fell pregnant or she was already pregnant. If Mary had a healthy child, Elizabeth wouldn't become queen. But being pregnant is not easy so, this meant that Mary had to find Elizabeth a place for succession if she were to die in childbirth."

"She ended up not giving birth because her pregnancy was just a figment of her damaged imagination. In short, it was just a phantom pregnancy. Mary's health declined and she died on November 17, 1558."

"If Mary didn't bring her back in line for succession, how did Elizabeth become queen, then?" Brad questioned.

Y/N smiled, "Elizabeth became queen under the terms of Henry VIII's will. Now that she's queen, she already knew what to do and what not to do based from her family members. She learned from them and used it as stepping stones to be a great queen."

"Thank you for listening!" Peter and Y/N in sync. Mrs. Johnson and the rest of the class clapped for them. Peter took the flash drive and gave it to Y/N as they went back to their seats. Mrs. Johnson got up from her seat and went to the front of the class, "Thank you, Mr. Parker and Ms. Y/L/N. That was an astounding presentation! Both of you really did you research and I'm proud of both of you. You guys didn't disappoint."

Peter and Y/N smiled at each other and gave each other a high five. The bell rang signalling that class was over. The students put their things away as they prepared to leave the room.

"To the ones presenting tomorrow, my expectations are high!" Mrs. Johnson called out. "Bye class!"

Everyone left the classroom and Y/N left ahead with Peter running after her. "Hey, Y/N!" Peter shouted as he caught up with her. Y/N stopped walking and looked at him. Peter reached her and said, "Thanks for backing me up in there. I have to admit, we were amazing."

"Yeah, we were." Y/N smiled. "We make a great team, huh? I'll see you in the next class. I have to go to the library."

Peter nodded as he watched her walk away. What they did in class was great; they were great as a team. Perhaps it wasn't so bad to include her in the team after all.

After the last class, he went to the compound to report to the rest of the Avengers. When he arrived in the meeting room, everyone was already there and he was late.

"There you are, Peter! Sit." Tony said. Peter didn't hesitate to sit down at the only empty seat. Everyone looked at Peter expectantly.

"So, how's recruiting going?" Steve asked as he looked at Peter intently.

"It's alright. We did a report together and we were great. I have a feeling we'll get a high grade on it." Peter smiled.

"Does this mean that you finally agree to adding her to the team?" Scott asked with a giddy voice.

Peter shrugged, "It doesn't hurt to add one more person with powers, right?"

* * * *

:)))) I hope y'all are proud of my fucking research

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @myblueleatherbag @harryismysunflower @buckys-little-hoe @justanothermarvelmaniac @itstaskeen @sandystoriess

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1​ @the-panwitch​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @chloecreatesfictions​ @holland-styles​ @halfblood-princess-505​ @spidey-reids-2003​

[henryobsessed]

I Took You Home - A Night on the Town

Summary: Henry takes Reba for a night on the town.

Word Count : 4381

Warning: Fluff 

A/N Disclaimer I don’t live in England, visited once when I was 12 so all depictions in this chapter are thanks to google. If you read something that does not ring true please let me know so I can correct it :) 

Thanks for the continued support I love tell stories and interacting with people about them.

Previous Chapter 6

Reba stood looking at Henry, chuckling nervously as the look on his face could only be described as lusty. "Henry?" he shook his head in the affirmative and smiled that easy smile that made her stomach flutter. Pulling the door closed behind her they turned and walked towards the elevator, neither risking making a move. The silence was painful as they waited to reach ground level, it had only been a week and they had been texting but there was a hesitancy now between them. Reba wondered if it was because they were now both aware, aware of who they both were to each other for Reba he was her Charles Brandon and for Henry she was his Thomas Magi. Both stayed silent until they were seated in his town car.

The sound of fingers tapping pulled Reba from her own nervousness, noticing Henrys twitching leg and rapid drumming of his fingers she laughed. His head jerked to her a questioning look on his face as his low gruff voice said, "What's funny?" Continuing her chuckle, she deliberately moved closer to Henry and placed a hand on his knee. "We are, Last week we were strangers and think of what we did. Now we know each other a little and were acting like it’s out first time together." His knee felt good under her hand and as if the touch broke the ice Henry sighed. Lifting his arm into the familiar invitation Reba sort out his warmth against his side. His low chuckle echoed in the car as he said, "Your right, sorry I had just build up tonight so much in my mind over this week that I over thought it and it made me anxious"

Now she was relaxed as her body connected with his, Reba could also acknowledge that same feeling. The butterfly's as she had been getting ready were a new experience for her. She never put herself into a situation other than releasing her books that allowed her to feel such vulnerabilities. Since last week she had now been forced essentially to feel out of control. In some ways she hated it, but in other ways she would never take it back, as she had been treated to other amazing sensations because of it. She sighed then spoke with courage "Mmmmm, so we can both admit to feeling nervous." contented now in his arms she broached the question that had her most uncomfortable. "Can you tell me where we are going tonight? That might help me feel more secure" this was a big part of her anxiousness. She liked to know where she was going, and a way to get home if things went pear shaped.

She listened to Henry's breathing and then he spoke with understanding, "I can hear that you really don't like being out of control. Does it cause you anxiety not know where we are going? I would like to just take you on a journey of some special places here in London but if you need I can give you the itinerary" she could not feel or hear any disappointment in his body language just a acceptance. This helped Reba to relax even more, maybe a surprise journey, just living in the moment would do her the world of good. She looked up at his face his kind eyes studying her waiting for her answer. Deciding to show him how much she was putting her trust in him she leant up and kissed him on the lips. She could tell she had surprised him as he stiffened for just a moment. Then responded to her, pulling her tighter against him as they deepened the kiss. As she pulled back for air she smiled at his soft features and said "Ok, I trust you lets go on a journey"

She loved the next sound that came out of his lips a genuine happy whisper "Ohh boy". She snuggled down in his arms enjoying the feeling of strength surrounding her as she watched the night sky through the car window, the stars twinkled whilst they sped to their first destination.

As the car slowed with traffic, she felt Henry's chest expand as he took a deep breath in a clear sign he had something important to say, "Reba, I attract a lot of attention when in public. I'm going to wear a Cap and glasses to blend in a bit more, but can you do me a favour and call me Charles? It might just give enough of a distraction that no one will notice us." Realising that this was one of the harder parts of being an actor and one that her pseudonym helped protect her from she answered with a giggle, "I guess that will be fine Charles as my phone does light up with your name, it should not be such a hard shift" she lent up and kissed him again a soft one this time.   

It wasn't long before the car slowed down and stopped. Reba sat up as Henry's door was opened by the driver, he stepped out and then looked back holding his hand out to her with a smile "My lady" giggling Reba took his hand and exited the car.

Reba had not done any sightseeing adventures in London other than visiting the pub every Wednesday and that fated Saturday. However, the sight before her she knew well. In school when they had talked about London in sociology and history, they had mentioned the palace, the Themes, and Trafalgar Square which is what she was now looking at. It looked more beautiful in person than the pictures she had seen especially as she was seeing it at night. Henry moved behind her wrapping his arms around her as she stared at the fountains. She relaxed in his arms and sighed "this is beautiful Charles. The way the light catches the water and shimmers across the fountains. The pictures don't do it justice" His head resting on the top of her shoulder he said softly into her ear "That sounded good hearing you call me Charles" For such a warm night Reba felt tingles run down her spine as his breath tickled her ear.

Reba moaned softly scolding Henry with a light voice "If you continue to do that Charles, I won’t be able to continue this journey without a lot of discomfort" she heard and felt his chuckle next to her ear. "Maybe that was my intention" that elicited another shiver as she stepped forward away from his body, holding his hand she moved to look more closely at the fountain, Henry following in tow. She was feeling a little overwhelmed at how he was making her body feel especially as they were in public. The square had people milling about taking photos, groups heading to different food venues in the area and just general Friday evening fun. Still right now all she could feel was him, smell him, her stomach had those butterflies back again so deciding to distract herself she made them walk around.   

They looked at the statues for a while Reba getting lost in the intricacies of the lions. They were beautifully carved; it was while she was staring into the eyes of one that her stomach made a loud growl. Laughing Henry looked at this watch and said "I think the lion in your stomach would be better sated if we head to our next destination" He put his arm around her waste and started them walking away from the square. It wasn't a hurried walk but a comfortable one arm in arm, contented, as he lead her away from the busy street to a narrower one. It was still busy with foot traffic as people hurried to the evening's entertainment. Reba looked at the stores and shops that lines the street, they looked old, full of history and charm. It was outside of one of these shops that Henry stopped. It was a brown unimpressive exterior called Gordon's wine bar. "This is it" he said as he lead her into the side door, the front did not prepare Reba for the wonderful sight she was to encounter as the smells of oak wood, Food and Wine assaulted her senses.

Henry wanted to pick her up and kiss her soundly, the look on Reba's face as they entered the Wine bar was priceless. Her eyes big and round, her pink lips shaped in an open awe. Her reaction was more than he could have hoped for when he chose Gordon's wine bar. Seeing the waiter coming towards them he guided her forward, "Good evening, table for two? And would you like garden or inside?" Henry answered quickly "Inside thank you" Reba looked up at him a slight frown on her face but she didn't voice her thoughts. Henry held back a chuckle he knew what she was soon to experience, yes it was warm but it would be worth it.

They were led to their table, he looked at Reba. Her face held pure amazement, now he did chuckle out loud. They were sitting in a cave like cellar, lit with twinkling lights and candles. "I know it would have been nice in the garden, but I wanted you to experience this" She let a breath out, as her gaze left the room and landed back to him. She smiled a soft smile that made his heart beat that bit faster "this is beautiful Charles" she breathed as she turned to look again at the cavern that they were now seated in.

He smiled as the waitress came forward to get their order "Reba do you mind if I order for us, they have a beautiful Italian platter for two here." He watched her face to make sure he wasn't over stepping but he was instead rewarded with a bigger smile "I love Italian that sounds great". Henry ordered the platter along with the suggested pairing of wine from the waitress. Turning back to Reba he could see she was still enamored with this cellar, he just watched her fascinated until she returned her gaze to his. He chuckled as the now familiar blush crept up her face, she was so easy to fluster, deciding to rescue her he remembered a something about this cellar that would be interesting to her, "So, fun fact this place has had many owners but one in particular would be of interest to you. In 1536 it was owned by Charles Brandon Duke of Suffolk." He laughed as he watched her react again. She was so expressive her eyebrow's were raised, her pink lips open again in surprise. Once she recovered she chuckled "Wow, its kind of impressive being able to be in places where my favorite character lived."

They talked about the weather for a bit, Reba expressing how happy she was that her characters had started talking again, Henry pleased that his project was back on track. Then they fell into a silence, both in thought when the food arrived. They both took their first bite of the Taleggio, Henry almost dropped his fork at the sound Reba emitted, he was sure due to her inexperience that it was an innocent sound but it caused his groin to stir.

She moaned again looking directly at Henry causing him to blush and more blood rushed to his groin. "This is so good Henry, I've never tasted this kind of cheese before." She smiled at him such an innocent smile. Dam I guess the tables have turned, his earlier attempts to arouse her had flipped. Trying to gather his thoughts and miss direct his growing problem he asked " So I know that your parents are Reba Fan's and I loved the description of them dancing in the living room. Can you tell me how you started writing?"

He watched as her face, became stressed taught, as she stared into the candle on their table. Guessing that it was a hard question he offered "It's ok if you don't want to talk about it, I guess its one of the first things people ask me when I'm in an interview. I can tell you mine while you think about it?" she smiled at him relief washing through her eyes as she whispered "Yes please". 

Thinking for a moment and seeing that her face was open and interested Henry began " Well, I went to boarding school as a kid, I didn't have a lot of mates so I spent a lot of time alone. It was ok, I actually didn't mind being on the outside. It gave me a different perspective, I could watch people and see how they behaved. I started getting involved with the drama group and found I really liked playing a part that wasn't me. One day we had a film come to use our school and Russell Crowe was acting in it. I was playing rugby at the time, when we were finished, I saw him and decided to ask him about acting as a career.

He was cool about it and even told me some real truths about how no one was going to give it to me, that I had to work hard for it. We talked a bit more until everyone else came up, so I stepped away. A few days later I got a gift basket from him, It, was unexpected with some stuff from His Rugby club and Australian food. But the thing that stuck with me was a photograph, written on it was "A Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." So, I did I worked hard, got rejected a lot. Did some good tv like the Tutors but was mostly labelled as the unlucky actor as I came second on the James bond movie, and Superman returns. I just kept working hard, training hard and then along came Superman. That was when I went from an unknown actor to can't go out in public without a lot of thought and planning"

The whole time he was talking he was taking notice, watching the interest in her eyes the way her they never left his. She wasn't just letting him talk she was engaging with him as she responded "So, you learned to cope being not as outgoing or popular at school by becoming someone else?" he chuckled "I guess you can say that, I think a lot of Actors are like that. They find an outlet for their own preserved weakness by playing someone else."

She nodded in agreement "I think it's the same for writers, we use writing to make a statement or to live a life we might not have or to work through the pain of what we have experienced. I started writing in high school after a traumatic event. I'm not sure I can talk about it yet with you but maybe one day. It's one of the reasons you are the second male I've been intimate with. It made me seek control of my life and so I disappeared into writing. There I can control the environment, the people and the situations even if it's a bad situation I know the outcome so it’s still controlled."

His heart broke listening to the pain she was describing, unable to fully understand but still seeing the effect that the situation had been on her life. She chuckled softly then said "In fact you're the first person I've let myself be out of control with. I hope you can now see how much trust I've placed in your hands" Henry swallowed at this comment, that was a lot of responsibility she had laid on the table. There was a slight moment of panic that hit his stomach, what if he hurt her, what if he did something even without his knowledge that would cause her pain. He shut his eyes for a moment and when he reopened them her saw a hesitancy on her face.

"Sorry, that was a bit much wasn't it" she mumbled and started to fidget with her napkin. A feeling of wanting to protect her, to wrap her up in his arms and sooth the fear that he could see now creeping into her eyes overwhelmed him. He hadn't felt this way since, well he couldn't remember the last time. Shifting his seat so it was next to hers rather that opposite he put his arm across her shoulders.

He breathed softly as he whispered "Maybe for the first real date, but it’s in keeping with our coming together. Caring for a drunk stranger, spending the weekend with said stranger. I guess this is all unusual, but I am glad you told me. It helps me to know what is ok and what I need to tread carefully with. If I wasn't your biggest fan, if we didn't have this connection that makes me want to sooth your hurts away. It might have been too much. Instead I just want to give you a kiss, is that ok?" Her eyes glistened as Henry spoke, and she leaned into him allowing him to kiss her softly. Looking down at his watch and seeing the time he changed tactics. I would like to revisit this but if we don't leave now we will miss the next part of this evenings journey. She looked dazed until it registered what he was saying, snapping out of her mood she chuckled and nodded. He raised his hand calling for the waitress and asked for the bill.                   

Reba was exhilarated, the mood from their last conversation was overshadowed by the colourful lights and sound of the musical theatre show Six. Henry had walked her the 10 minutes to Theatreland and now they were seated in the middle row enjoying the modern pop music depicting the six wives of Henry the 8th. He was so sweet Reba thought looking over at his face. She could see the colours dancing off his stubbled jaw and shinning in his eyes. How thoughtful to make tonight all about the Tudors? She felt Henry's knee rubbing against hers, as his long legs bounced up and down in time to the music as the women on stage yelled out "Divorced, beheaded, divorced, died, beheaded, survived."

As the show progressed, she got lost in the new retelling of Henry the 8th wives. At one point she felt Henry place his hand on hers, his fingers caressing her hand, it was gentle and maybe an encouragement that all was ok.

Arm in arm again they walked out of the theatre "So what did you think?" Henry's deep voice asked as they headed out "I loved the energy, and the vocal performance was wonderful" Reba answered as she spotted the town car that was waiting for them. It was only 9:20pm but the noise and crowds of the theatre had exhausted her, the driver held the door open for Reba and Henry as they got inside.

The door shut and Reba needing to feel secure burrowed into Henry's side his arm moving to pull her into his chest. She felt the rumble of his voice as he asked, "Are you ok?" She hummed her hand resting on his thigh, "Yes but the crowds really took it out of me. Is it ok if we just go home and enjoy the rest of the night in the quiet?" He chuckled, lightly running his hand through her hair, "you took the words right out of my mouth. Do you mind however if we go back to my place? I have a special friend I would like you to meet" the last word she muttered before letting sleep overtake her was ok.

Reba was sitting in a garden, sounded by the most colourful flowers. In front of her was a little boy who would have been 8 months old, gingerly siting up on the picnic blanket they were sharing. His face was round and chubby and his startling blue eyes were sparkling with mirth as he giggled. She picked him up and his little hand reached out and grazed her cheek. "Reba, honey its time to wake up" she startled awake as Henry's hand brushed her cheek. "Where here" he said his sweet smile and gentle blue eyes coaxed her awake.

It took her a moment to take in her surrounding, the warm interior light of the car and the driver waiting by the door. The dream had been so real that this looked like a dream. Tucking the images in her heart she looked at Henry and gave a coy smile "Sorry" he chuckled at her as his warm hand helped her from the car.

She felt his warmth around her waist as he walked her up to his front door. Before he opened the door he looked at her and with a slight frown said "I didn't ask, are you ok with dogs?" she had grown up around dogs, little ones, big ones they hadn't phased her but it had been a long time since then. "I did when I was younger but it’s been awhile" humming to himself Henry turned the key and opened the door.

The place was beautifully decorated, walls were adorned with bookcases filled with many titles and pictures of his family. He led her into a living room and instructed her to sit before disappearing to another part of the house.

She sat there still sleep dazed the images of the little boy danced before her unable to shake his beautiful blue eyes. Then she heard the sound of an excited puppy dog greeting its master. She smiled, it sounded so happy. Henry's sure footsteps and the padded paws echoed from somewhere in the house as they got closer to the room.

Henry walked around to her with a beautiful dog on his lead. At Henry's command he sat looking at Reba eyeing the stranger that its master had bought home. "Reba I would like to introduce you to Kal, Kal this is Reba" feeling more awake and seeing in the look of pride on Henry's face how much this bear of a Dog meant to him she made a move.

Getting down on her knees on the rug they were now standing on she put her hand out and allowed Kal to sniff her. Then slowly the dog moved towards her and sniffed her arm as she whispered is a warm voice "Hi kal, aren't you a beautiful boy"

At the sound of her voice Kal's tail began to wag and he laid down, his head on her lap staring up at her. Reba scratched him behind his ear as she spoke to Henry not taking her eyes of the Black and white dog before her. "He's wonderful Henry, so gentle and kind" their was only silence as a response prompting her to look up to see a stunned Henry looking down at the pair. "Henry?" He shifted his gaze to hers as he snapped out of his shock "He's never done that before" he sat down next to her as she continued to massage Kal's head. "He mean's a lot to you doesn't he" she stated gagging his reaction. "Yes, he has been a true companion. He travels with me if he's allowed and stays with me in the trailers and hotels. He doesn't demand more than food, walks and cuddles. When it got really bad awhile ago he was my savior."

The soft look that crossed his face was so endearing to Reba it compelled her to reach up running her hand across his cheek. They locked eyes his asking silently for permission all she had to do was slowly blink before Henry lowered his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

It was a delightfully slow kiss his tongue caressing her lower lip seeking entrance as she opened and allowed him to explore her mouth. This wasn't to hurried like the passionate kiss from the car at the beginning of the night, this was a gentle deep caress displaying to her his care. A wet nose nudged Reba's hand demanding that she resume her head scratching that had stopped. This caused her to chuckle into the kiss breaking the intimate moment. "I think Kal's jealous Henry" Reba whispered, as Henry looked down at his dog with a frown saying, "Hey buddy your meant to help me not hinder me".

Reba laughed at this comment a light full laugh that made Henry smile too. Feeling very comfortable on the floor but sensing she needed to find his bathroom soon she got up and asked "So where in this beautiful house can I go powder my nose?" she was pointed down the hall as Henry also rose "Whilst your doing that do you want a hot drink? Or a cold one?" he said, she thought for a moment and whilst moving in the direction he had pointed out said  "A hot tea would be good if you have any, herbal or just some hot water if you don't" she smiled at him before disappearing into the guest bath and loo.

They spent the evening on the couch snuggled into each other talking, before long she knew she would fall asleep. He seemed to notice this too and surprising her lifted her up in his arms, once over the surprise she snuggled into his warmth as he walked her down towards his bedroom. Placing her on the bed he walked to his closet and found an old t shirt and handed it to her. She looked up at him in thanks as she tried to feel for the zipper at the back of her dress.

A warm hand found it instead as he whispered "Let me help you with that" the feel of his hand grazing her back as he helped her remove her dress sent shivers up her spine. She turned to look up at him desire shinning in his eyes as she lent up and kissed his soft lips. The dress discarded on the ground his warm hands now engulfing her body as the emotion of the evening spilled into their kiss.

Next Chapter 8

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[lizzy-tudor]

“Maria de Salinas was lady-in-waiting to Katherine of Aragon, and one of her closest confidantes. Although we know little of her origins, she was the daughter of Juan de Salinas, secretary to Katherine’s eldest sister, Isabella, and Josepha Gonzales de Salas. Despite the fact that she was not on the original list of ladies, drawn up in 1500, chosen to accompany Katherine of Aragon to England for her marriage to Prince Arthur, it seems likely that she, and her sister Inez, did come to England with the Spanish princess. She may have been added to the princess’s staff when her mother, Isabella of Castile, increased the size of Katherine’s entourage in March 1501.

Maria was one of the ladies who stayed with Katherine after her household was reduced and many returned to Spain, following the death of Katherine’s young husband, Arthur, Prince of Wales, in 1502. She stayed with the Spanish princess throughout the years of penury and uncertainty, when Katherine was used as a pawn by both her father, Ferdinand, and father-in-law, Henry VII, in negotiations for her marriage to Prince Henry, the future Henry VIII; a marriage which was one of Henry’s first acts on his accession to the throne. Maria is included in the list of Katherine’s attendants who were given an allowance of black cloth for mantles and kerchiefs, following the death of Henry VII in 1509; she was then given a new gown for Katherine’s coronation, which was held jointly with King Henry in June of the same year.

In 1511 Maria stood as godmother to Mary Brandon, daughter of Charles Brandon – one of the new king, Henry VIII’s closest companions and her future son-in-law – and his first wife, Ann Browne. Katherine of Aragon and Maria were very close; in fact, by 1514 Ambassador Caroz de Villagarut, appointed by Katherine’s father, Ferdinand of Aragon, was complaining of Maria’s influence over the queen. He accused Maria of conspiring with her kinsman, Juan Adursa – a merchant in Flanders with hopes of becoming treasurer to Philip, prince of Castile –  to persuade Katherine not to cooperate with the ambassador. The ambassador complained: ‘The few Spaniards who are still  in her household prefer to be friends of the English, and neglect their duties as subjects of the King of Spain. The worst influence on the queen is exercised by Dona Maria de Salinas, whom she loves more than any other mortal.’¹

Maria was naturalised on 29th May, 1516, and just a week later, on 5th June she married the largest landowner in Lincolnshire, William Willoughby, 11th Baron Willoughby de Eresby. William Willoughby was the son of Sir Christopher Willoughby, who had died c.1498, and Margaret, or Marjery, Jenney of Knodishall in Suffolk. He had been married previously, to Mary Hussey, daughter of Sir William Hussey, Chief Justice of the King’s Bench. The King and Queen paid for the wedding, which took place at Greenwich, the Queen even provided Maria with a dowry of 1100 marks. They were given Grimsthorpe Castle, and other Lincolnshire manors which had formerly belonged to Francis Lovel (friend of Richard III), as a wedding gift. Henry VIII even named one of his new ships the Mary Willoughby in Maria’s honour.

Maria remained at court for some years after her wedding, and attended Katherine at the Field of Cloth of Gold in 1520. Henry VIII was godfather to Maria and William’s oldest son, Henry, who died in infancy. Another son, Francis, also died young and their daughter Katherine, born in 1519, would be the only surviving child of the marriage. Lord Willoughby died in 1526, and for several years afterwards Maria was embroiled in a legal dispute with her brother-in-law, Sir Christopher Willoughby, over the inheritance of the Willoughby lands. Sir Christopher claimed that William had settled some lands on Maria which were entailed to Sir Christopher. The dispute went to the Star Chamber and caused Sir Thomas More, the king’s chancellor and a prominent lawyer, to make an initial redistribution of some of the disputed lands.

This must have been a hard fight for the newly widowed Maria, and the dispute threatened the stability of Lincolnshire itself, given the extensive lands involved. However, Maria attracted a powerful ally in Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk and brother-in-law of the King, who called on the assistance of Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, Henry’s first minister at the time, in the hope of resolving the situation. Suffolk had managed to obtain the wardship of Katherine Willoughby in 1528, intending her to marry his eldest son and heir Henry, Earl of Lincoln, and so had a vested interest in a favourable settlement for Maria. This interest became even greater following the death of Mary Tudor, Suffolk’s wife, in September 1533, when only three months later the fifty-year-old Duke of Suffolk married fourteen-year-old Katherine, himself.

Although Suffolk pursued the legal case with more vigour after the wedding, a final settlement was not reached until the reign of Elizabeth I. Suffolk eventually became the greatest landowner in Lincolnshire and, despite the age difference, the marriage does appear to have been successful. Katherine served at court, in the household of Henry VIII’s sixth and last queen, Katherine Parr. She was widowed in 1545 and lost her two sons – and heirs – by the Duke, Henry and Charles, to the sweating sickness, within hours of each other in 1551. Katherine was a stalwart of the Protestant learning and even invited Hugh Latimer to preach at Grimsthorpe Castle. It was she and Sir William Cecil who persuaded Katherine Parr to publish her book, The Lamentacion of a Sinner in 1547, demonstrating her continuing links with the court despite her first husband’s death. Following the death of her sons by Suffolk, Katherine no longer had a financial interest in the Suffolk estates, and in order to safeguard her Willoughby estates, Katherine married her gentleman usher, Richard Bertie.

The couple had a difficult time navigating the religious tensions of the age and even went into exile on the Continent during the reign of the Catholic Queen, Mary I, only returning on Elizabeth’s accession. Katherine resumed her position in Tudor society; her relations with the court, however, were strained by her tendency towards Puritan learning. The records of Katherine’s Lincolnshire household show that she employed Miles Coverdale – a prominent critic of the Elizabethan church – as tutor to her two children by Bertie, Susan and Peregrine. Unfortunately, Katherine died after a long illness, on 19th September 1580 and was buried in her native Lincolnshire, in Spilsby Church.

A widow since 1526, Maria de Salinas, Lady Willoughby, kept a tight rein on the Willoughby lands,proving to be an efficient landlady. Unfortunately, the fact she took advantage of the dissolution of the monasteries in order to lease monastic land; a business arrangement, rather than political or religious, but it still made her a target of discontent during the Lincolnshire Rising.

Maria had remained as a Lady-in-Waiting to Katherine. She was known to dislike Anne Boleyn and, as Henry’s attitude towards Katherine hardened during his attempts to divorce her, in 1532 Maria was ordered to leave Katehrine’s household and not contact her again. By 1534, as Emperor Charles V’s ambassador, Chapuys, described it; Katherine was ‘more a prisoner than before, for not only is she deprived of her goods, but even a Spanish lady who has remained with her all her life, and has served her at her own expense, is forbidden to see her.’²

When Katherine was reported to be dying at Kimbolton Castle, in December 1535, Maria applied for a license to visit her ailing mistress. She wrote to  Sir Thomas Cromwell, the King’s chief minister at the time, saying ‘for I heard that my mistress is very sore sick again. I pray you remember me, for you promised to labour with the king to get me licence to go to her before God send for her, as there is no  other likelihood.’² Permission was refused, but despite this setback, Maria set out from London to visit Katherine at Kimbolton Castle, arriving on the evening of New Years’ Day, 1536 and contrived to get herself admitted by Sir Edmund Bedingfield by claiming a fall from her horse meant she could travel no further. According to Sarah Morris and Nathalie Grueninger, Katherine and Maria spent hours talking in their native Castilian; the former queen died in Maria’s arms on 7th January 1536.³ Katherine of Aragon was buried in Peterborough Cathedral on 29th January, with Maria and her daughter, Katherine, in attendance.

Maria herself died in May 1539, keeping control of her estates to the very last. She signed a copy of the court roll around 7th May, but was dead by the 20th, when Suffolk was negotiating for livery of her lands. Her extensive Lincolnshire estates, including Grimsthorpe and Eresby, passed to her only surviving child, Katherine and her husband, Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. Maria’s burial-place is unknown, though there is a legend that she was buried in Peterborough Cathedral, close to her beloved Queen Katherine.”

[latristereina]

Marguerite had “the body of a woman, the heart of a man, and the head of an angel,” proclaimed the poet Clement Marot. Although she emerged as a key figure of the French Renaissance, Marguerite occupied a very different place in her mother’s world than Francis did. Louise’s Journal revolved around her “Caesar”; Marguerite was rarely mentioned. Her life was largely shaped by her status as the king’s devoted sister. When Francis disagreed with her over issues such as the marriage of her daughter or the persecution of Protestants, she deferred to his wishes or retreated. Her life was shaped decisively by the limits imposed on elite women: A marriage was arranged for her to a man in whom she had no interest and with whom she shared no interests; when she made a second marriage for love, that beloved husband freely pursued sexual adventures; and Marguerite’s relationship with her own daughter was largely defined by Francis’s diplomatic agenda. Despite these constraints on her personal life, Marguerite was an intellectual luminary and political figure in Francis’s court, and she attained great distinction as one of the most important writers of the French Renaissance. Marguerite was born on April 11, 1492, into the Angoulême family, whose fortunes fluctuated as their expectations of inheriting the throne waxed and waned with Anne of Brittany’s pregnancies and as Louis XII married his successive wives with greater or lesser prospects for fertility. Even more than the family’s position vis-à-vis the throne, Marguerite’s life was shaped by her position as moon to her brother’s sun. We know little of her early life except that she followed her family’s peregrinations from one royal chateau to another, spending time at her mother’s chateaux at Cognac and Romorantin and at the royal chateaux of Amboise and Blois. Her early environment allowed her interests and abilities to flourish. She benefited from the excellent education available to her brother and, indeed, was the more apt pupil. Marguerite grew up surrounded by the young men chosen by her mother as fitting companions for her brother and who later played important roles in the history of France. Several of them, including Gaston de Foix, a young love of Marguerite’s, and Guillaume de Bonnivet, died in Francis’s wars. Charles de Montpensier became the constable of Bourbon and betrayed his king. The most important of them, Anne de Montmorency, was a political advisor and military leader who served Francis and Francis’s son and grandsons. Several of these young men had a marked impact on Marguerite. Her relationship with them, according to scholars’ speculations, may be found, thinly disguised in fiction, in her best-known work, Heptameron. One story tells of a widow left with two children, a young prince and princess. Youthful love and trust was betrayed by assaults on the princess’s virtue. The princess Florinde fell in love with a stunningly handsome young prince who died in battle. Another young man, Amadour, consoled her and became her confidant. He married one of the princess’s friends to remain close to her and then went to war. While he was away, the princess married another. When Amadour returned after the death of his wife, he first tried to persuade the princess that marriage made extramarital relationships permissible. He then tried to take her by force, despite her vociferous objections. She thwarted him again by deliberately bruising her face so badly that he would not find her attractive. When he nonetheless attacked her again, her cries brought her mother, and Amadour was forced into exile. Another story tells of a similar attack. In this version, the aggressor is housed in a room below the princess’s, connected by a trapdoor. But the princess and her maid lie in wait for him. When he invades her room, they beat him so severely that he is forced to absent himself to avoid explaining his battered appearance. Marguerite’s biographers concede that these stories are not conclusively autobiographical. However, there seems to be sufficient correlation between her life and these stories to suppose that Foix was the handsome young prince, as he was both her early love and killed at the battle of Ravenna (1512), and that Bonnivet was the confidant turned attacker. Whether autobiographical or not, these storied expose the vulnerability of women, even those like Marguerite at the top of the social hierarchy. Her personal experience of sexual assault may well explain the prominence of rape in the Heptameron. Marguerite’s personal life, like that of other royal women, was shaped by the marriage alliance made for her—a decision in which she actually had greater say than many of her contemporaries. Her situation was complicated by the fact that, during the years in which a marriage would likely be arranged, it was not clear whether she would be simply the sister of a prestigious but impoverished French nobleman or of the king of France. When marriage to Marguerite was proposed to Arthur, the oldest son of Henry VII of England, he preferred a king’s daughter over a prospective king’s sister and so chose Catherine of Aragon. After Arthur’s death, Marguerite was proposed for his brother, the future Henry VIII, but it was still not certain that Francis would inherit the throne. A royal marriage for Marguerite would have given too much power to the Angoulême family if Francis were not the heir to the throne. Other marriages would have given undue influence to a mere nobleman should he then be married to a king’s sister. Marguerite was not an entirely passive bystander. When Louis XII proposed the English Prince Henry, Marguerite objected to being sent to a foreign land. Surely, she contended, she could find a young, rich, noble husband without crossing the English Channel. Ultimately, the selection of Marguerite’s husband was made in the crown’s narrowest interests. In 1508, she married Charles, the duke of Alençon, a match Louis XII arranged to settle a legal dispute between the crown and the duke. Charles derived great benefit from Marguerite’s status. Once Francis became king, Charles had the status of second gentleman of the kingdom, with the attendant prerogatives. Nothing about the arrangement served Marguerite’s interests, and her situation was quite uncongenial. She was separated from home and family at the age of sixteen to go to her husband’s estates in Normandy. Her spouse had been reared in relative poverty and isolation by a widowed mother. A feudal warrior with no intellectual interests, he was, by all accounts, remarkably undistinguished. Thus, Marguerite, a paragon of Renaissance learning and culture, married a feudal military man on whom the Renaissance had made no impression. She lived in the cultural backwater of Alençon, where the chateau was an austere feudal structure without the stylistic benefits or creature comforts of the Renaissance. Marguerite’s devout mother-in-law had worked to preserve her son’s estates, but their household was impoverished. Despite her difficult circumstances, Marguerite’s exposure to this environment might well have awakened or heightened her religious devotion. Marguerite’s life dramatically changed with Francis’s accession to the throne. He summoned her to court, where she became one of its greatest ornaments and a central figure in promulgating the Renaissance in a French setting. She also took on significant political missions, represented the king in the provinces, marshaled troops, and supervised construction projects. These activities demonstrated that Francis trusted her to act in his stead in a variety of contexts. An Italian ambassador acknowledged her influence: “The sister knows all the secrets but speaks little, what a most beautiful woman.” The duke of Suffolk advised his brother-in-law Henry VIII to write affectionately to Marguerite to curry her brother’s favor. She also received foreign ambassadors, as when the English ambassador came to arrange a marriage between the newborn dauphin and Mary Tudor. Because Queen Claude was both retiring and frequently pregnant, Marguerite performed the public offices of her sister-in-law, often serving as Francis’s official hostess. Marguerite played an important role in the royal household, overseeing the education of her nieces and nephews after Claude’s death. In recognition of her many services, Francis settled a pension on Marguerite, which gave her a measure of financial independence. Even more significant was his gift of the duchy of Berry and his elevation of that duchy to one conferring the status of peer of the realm on its holder. As there were only twelve peers at a time and very few of them throughout the sixteenth century were women, this position alone gave Marguerite an extraordinary official status. With a seat on the royal council, she was consulted by the king about the most important issues of the day. As her correspondence documents, she directed administrative and religious offices in her territories and acted as an effective patron of the nobles of her duchy. Marguerite’s activities enhanced Francis’s reputation as a paragon of the Renaissance. The famous Italian humanist Castiglione acknowledged Francis as “the mirror of graces and good education . . . much in contrast to the practices in France.” Francis was interested in humanism, but his sister was a scholar of true distinction and an outstanding exemplar of the roles women could play in courtly humanism. Castiglione’s famous depiction of the court of Urbino in The Book of the Courtier not only made the court central to the transmission of humanism but also made women the crucial agents in moderating male culture by transforming the feudal warrior into the Renaissance man. While Anne of Brittany’s court had a circle of devout women, it was not a venue where men and women enjoyed each other’s company. Francis’s distinctively Renaissance court appreciated women and made them central to its activities. Marguerite was a particularly apt French rendition of Castiglione’s Elisabetta Gonzaga—a paragon of virtue and learning in a royal court. But Marguerite was not simply, on the Italian model, a woman who orchestrated the conversation of men; she pursued her own intellectual interests and defined the literature of the French Renaissance. The early years of Francis’s reign offer glimpses into Marguerite’s interest in religious reform. Some of her ideas became central to the emergence of Protestantism in France. Initially, Francis gave her full rein. Intrigued by new ideas, he himself did not take a definitive stand until he perceived the reformers as a political threat. After hearing Guillaume Briçonnet, bishop of Meaux, preach, Marguerite corresponded extensively about theological issues with him. He became one of the most notable guides to her religious development. Briçonnet encouraged her interest in religious reform and urged her to get involved in nominating bishops, no doubt seeing her as a powerful ally for his reformminded community. Those who advocated the reform of the Church could remain completely orthodox, and many of them espoused ideas associated with the growing reform movement within the Catholic Church called Christian humanism. Christian humanists, like other Renaissance humanists, studied classical texts and applied philological methods to purify these texts of their medieval accretions; they focused particularly on early Christian texts. Their studies revealed glaring inconsistencies between the practices, beliefs, and structure of the early Church and those of the Renaissance Church. While calls for reform based on this understanding of early Christianity could be and were launched from within the Church, espousing these ideas became more problematic once the Church had condemned Luther’s ideas. Those committed to reform then found it more difficult to define a position distinct from Luther’s. Calls for reform were increasingly construed as direct attacks on the Church. Marguerite was deeply sympathetic to both the ideas and the proponents of religious reform. She saw the new movement as a way to purify Catholicism and return it to its early, apostolic roots. She advocated the reform of monasteries and convents and had reformed several on her lands already by 1520. She remained unflinchingly critical of the corruption of monasteries—a central theme of the Heptameron. Her strong commitment to charitable institutions led her to inaugurate a system of public assistance in hospitals in Alençon and in Paris. Marguerite was also formidable enough in debating the theological complexities underlying the Reformation to be perceived as a threat by the theology faculty of the Sorbonne. Francis’s defeat and subsequent imprisonment after Pavia propelled Marguerite into the arena of international diplomacy. Pavia also altered her personal circumstances. Not only did her husband fail to distinguish himself in battle, but, when wounded, he fled ignominiously and died in disgrace shortly thereafter. (Many years later, Marguerite wrote a six-thousand-verse poem, The Prisons, commenting sympathetically on his disgrace.) As the affairs of state required Louise to remain in France, Marguerite went as the key negotiator with Charles V over the fate of Francis, then held in a Spanish prison. Marguerite found her brother unconscious and near death and warned her mother to expect the worst. Constantly at prayer, she stayed by his side until his fever finally broke twenty-three days later. Marguerite negotiated with the emperor for more than three months. She allied with Charles’s sister, Eleanor of Austria, who entertained a notion of Francis as a romantic hero. Marguerite played on this sentiment to gain better treatment for her brother and promoted the marriage between Eleanor and Francis to gain his release. While she was in Spain, Francis decreed that if anything happened to his mother, Marguerite would be his regent. Although ultimately given safe passage, Marguerite was mistrustful enough to fear that the emperor might detain her as a hostage. While Marguerite was in Spain, religious hostilities in France increased. The group at Meaux took a more belligerent stance toward the Church, destroying a papal bull on indulgences and replacing it with a text criticizing the pope as the anti-Christ. The theology faculty of the Sorbonne took advantage of Francis’s imprisonment to reassert its authority as a vigilant guardian of orthodoxy. It scrutinized the writings of advocates of Church reform, condemning as heretical the works of both Luther and the Christian humanist Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples. Parlement was also mobilized to carry out the Sorbonne’s wishes in the judicial venue, prosecuting those the Sorbonne condemned. Even though Francis had previously intervened on Lefèvre’s behalf, Parlement forced him into exile for the duration of Francis’s imprisonment. When Parlement condemned the celebrated humanist Louis de Berquin to death, he was saved only by Marguerite’s personal intervention. (When Berquin was later convicted again, the death sentence was hastily carried out to prevent royal intervention.) Francis’s eventual release from prison was a reprieve for reformers. Lefèvre, for example, was recalled from exile to serve as tutor to Francis’s sons. When Francis returned from Spain, he credited Marguerite with saving his life during his illness and with negotiating so conscientiously on his behalf. He showered her with gifts, and she was clearly in very high standing. As a widow and now undeniably the sister of the king of France, Marguerite could play a valuable diplomatic role in new marriage negotiations. But when she married again in 1527, she chose a husband for love—Henry d’Albret, the king of Navarre. This marriage afforded Francis only modest political advantage, shoring up the border between France and Spain. Likely Francis allowed this politically less-advantageous match in deference to Marguerite’s personal feelings. Henry could be considered an appropriate husband for a royal princess, for he was a king, albeit a territorially disadvantaged one. He had lost much of his land when Ferdinand and Isabella* of Spain seized part of Navarre in 1512, and Charles V took Béarn, another part of his territory. For a land-poor king, an alliance with the king of France’s sister was a tremendous advantage; Henry became, as a result, one of the greatest lords of France. As queen in Navarre, Marguerite continued to play a direct role in the politics and diplomacy and to correspond with many important European figures on both political and theological issues. While this marriage was happier than Marguerite’s first, it too had its humiliations. At the age of thirty-five, Marguerite was passionately in love with this new husband, twelve years her junior. Young and handsome, Henry had distinguished himself at the Battle of Pavia. He shared her interest in Renaissance arts, and they were bound by their mutual antipathy toward the emperor. Henry hoped marriage to the king’s sister would lead to the recovery of his lost lands with Francis’s support. (He had previously proposed marriage to Charles’s sister Eleanor, expecting his lost lands as her dowry.) But Marguerite’s marriage for love did not bring her great personal happiness, and she found her new situation less than ideal. The court in Navarre was provincial, and her husband was concerned most with protecting his remaining territory. After an initial period of happiness, she became disillusioned as Henry pursued sexual relationships with other women. Marguerite’s correspondence documents her requests to ask others to bring him to heel. Francis was forced to demand that he treat her as her rank required. Henry demonstrates some of these undesirable traits through the words Marguerite puts into the mouth of her character Hircan (a play on his name in Gascon, the language of Navarre) in the Heptameron. As the book’s characters reflect on the meaning of the stories they told to their group of stranded travelers, Hircan inevitably asserts the greatest male prerogative and disdain for women. He is cynical about women’s motives and the depth of their love, claiming, for example, that women act not from love but rather in women’s ways, which are “resentful, bitter, and vindictive.” He appreciates the cleverness of men in overcoming the scruples of women about sexual relations; if women resist, “men turn to trickery.” Men have no call to defer to women, he insists, because “women are made for men.” Although other speakers challenge his views, Hircan presents a crass and overweening sense of male privilege, and his character seems to argue for Marguerite’s increasing unhappiness in her marriage. Despite the difficulties of her marriage, Marguerite gave birth to her daughter, Jeanne, in 1528 to her great joy. At the age of thirty-six, Marguerite was a rather old first-time, sixteenth-century mother. Her first marriage had been childless, and her second occurred after she had already likely entered a period of diminished fertility. In addition to her daughter, she bore a son in 1530 who died at the age of six months, and she had several recorded miscarriages. She grieved over the death of her son and desperately longed for more children. At the age of fifty, she fell ill but believed that she was again pregnant. When Jeanne was just two years old, Francis took her to be raised at the chateau of Plessis-les-Tours so that her father could not use her to recoup his Spanish territory through a Hapsburg marriage alliance for her. Well aware that this was his brother-in-law’s greatest interest, Francis both wanted to prevent Henry from bartering his own daughter for his former lands and intended to use his niece instead to advance his own political agenda. As a result, Marguerite was separated from her daughter for most of her life. While her mother was alive, Marguerite played important social, political, and cultural roles at her brother’s court and acted as Louise’s political and diplomatic agent, working with her to negotiate the Ladies’ Peace. After her mother’s death in 1531, Marguerite took over many of Louise’s official functions. She traveled extensively, pursuing the king’s as well as her own interests, going to Amiens to reform a Franciscan convent, to Normandy when the dauphin Francis was proclaimed governor, and to Rouen with the new queen, Eleanor, on her triumphal entry. Marguerite was greatly involved with Francis’s children, especially in arranging marriages for them. She shared her brother’s enthusiasm for building and commissioned two Renaissance chateaux at Nérac and Pau in Navarre. For the last sixteen years of Francis’s reign, she was one of Francis’s most significant confidants. The Venetian ambassador Matteo Dandolo praised Marguerite as the wisest of all (not merely the wisest woman). In 1540 he reported that she was constantly with the king and proclaimed “in the affairs and interests of state, one can have no surer discourses than hers.” Although Francis relied on Marguerite, she was sometimes at odds with him over politics or religion. These disagreements increasingly became serious enough that she periodically fled the court when she could not condone her brother’s actions. Kathleen Wellman, “Queens and Mistresses of Renaissance France”

*the author is wrong here, Isabella died in 1504, so she couldn’t participate in the conquest of Navarre in 1512