Fitzroy: The Boy Who Would be King

Fitzroy:

The Boy Who

Would Be King

Kathleen S. Allen

***

Fitzroy: The Boy Who Would Be King

Copyright © 2011 by Kathleen S. Allen

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.

Published at Smashwords by Kathleen S. Allen

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Also available in Print from major online book sellers.

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN 10: 1461195092

ISBN 13: 978-1461195092 Kathleen S. Allen

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CONTENTS

Prologue - The Birth of a Son

Chapter 1 - Coming to Court

Chapter 2 - A Boy Becomes a Duke

Chapter 3 - Fitzroy Meets Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

Chapter 4 - Back at Court

Chapter 5 - The Fall of Wolsey

Chapter 6 - The Death of Wolsey

Chapter 7 - Fitzroy and Mark Spy on the Queen

Chapter 8 - Fitzroy Gets More Titles

Chapter 9 - Midnight Games

Chapter 10 - July 1533

Chapter 11 - The Birth of Elizabeth

Chapter 12 - Marriage Woes

Chapter 13 - Fitzroy Marries

Chapter 14 - The Act of Succession

Chapter 15 - Anne Delivers a Son

Chapter 16 - Mark Keeps a Secret

Chapter 17 - Henry VIII Has a New Love

Chapter 18 - Uprising in Lincolnshire

Chapter 19 - Bloodletting

Chapter 20 - Fitzroy Visits the Tower of London

Chapter 21 - The End of Days

Epilogue

About the Author

***

PROLOGUE

15 June 1519 in the Year of Our Lord

The Birth of a Son

The guard barred the entrance. He stood in front of the door with his sword drawn ready to use it if provoked.

The King does not want to be disturbed, the guard said. I have told you that he does not want visitors this night. Take your leave sir before you regret it!

I know that he does not wish to be disturbed, I would not disturb him unless it was not important. Now give way! The man in the black hooded cloak insisted.

The guard refused to move. I will not give way. If you do not leave I will call the other guards and you will be taken to the Tower of London and arrested! The guard glared at the man who was pacing in front of him.

The man stopped pacing. He will want to hear this news boy, make way! The man tried to shove past the guard but the guard would not let him pass.

Only for matters of state and then only if the Kingdom is in ruin, he said. The King will not be disturbed until morning. He glared at the man again. Now leave or I will have to run you through! He pointed his sword at the man, the tip dangerously close to the man’s stomach.

He refused to step back.You will be in ruin if you do not let me in! The man put his hood down and unfastened the cloak so that it fell to the floor at his feet.

Underneath the cloak he wore a red Cardinal’s cape and cap.

Your honor, Sir! I-I am sorry I did not recognize you. Go in. Please accept my apologies. The guard bowed low putting his sword back in the scabbard around his waist. He held the door to the King’s apartments open. Inside was the Privy Chamber that led to his bedchamber. The Cardinal pushed past him in such a hurry that the guard fell against the doorway almost losing his balance. He righted himself. He shut the door as soon as the Cardinal was through.

The room stank of sweat, old food and other smells the Cardinal did not want to identify.

He wrinkled his nose before speaking. Your Majesty, you must wake, I have news! The Cardinal swept the red velvet curtains that were fringed in gold away from the bedchamber. His fingers came away dusty. The king, who was thankfully alone, stirred in his sleep.

Who is that? he mumbled turning over away from the noise.

It’s Wolsey, Sire, I have news for you. The king sighed before turning back over to face Wolsey. He sat up. He rubbed his fists in his eyes like a small boy who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He yawned. A huge yawn. His breath was foul. Wolsey wanted to step back but was afraid the king would take offense.

Henry smacked his lips and scratched his chest in an absent minded way. Wine, I need something to drink before I hear this news of yours. The ripe smell Wolsey had noticed when he first entered the room was stronger the closer he got to the king. He took a step back and hoped the king would not notice. He noticed that Henry was growing a beard, or attempting to. It was no more than a mere shadow on his face and chin. He smiled to himself. The king, at the ripe old age of 28 was trying to make himself appear older than his years.

What are you smiling about, Wolsey? Grumpy from lack of sleep he held out a hand for his wine glass which sat on the table across the room.

Wolsey was incensed. How dare the king ask him to be his servant and fetch his wine goblet for him? He fumed but brought the glass to the outstretched hand trying not to touch the hand itself.

The king drank then handed him back the glass. It is as cold as a witch’s teat in here; let us have the fire stoked. Boy! he called.

The door opened and the same guard, looking terrified poked his head in.Your Majesty?

Stir the fire up and bring me more wine and another glass for the Cardinal. Hurry up boy!

The guard ran into the room and stirred the fire so that the embers could reignite but all that he did was make them smoke. The room filled with smoke adding to the smell. Wolsey was tired. He wished the boy would hurry up.

The king began to cough waving a hand in the air. Stop, make a new fire. I cannot breathe with that smoke in here. Open the windows boy! Give us some air to breathe!

Cardinal Wolsey stood swaying on his feet. He was exhausted having just ridden in from Essex, more than a day’s journey away from the King’s palace. The roads were bumpy and full of holes that caused his backside to ache. He shifted on his feet to ease the ache. He wished the king would see how exhausted he was and offer him a chair. He looked with longing at a chair that sat near the fire. Perhaps if he stood next to it the king would get the hint. Wolsey walked over to the chair resting his arm on the back of it.

The king ignored Wolsey. He adjusted his once white nightshirt that was now stained with food and wine spills. He looked up at Wolsey who looked as if he would collapse any moment now.

He indicated the chair Wolsey was leaning against with a wide sweeping hand. Sit down Wolsey before you fall down. He ran his hands through his reddish hair, worn long in the fashion of the day. He waited until Wolsey sat down. Now what is this news that is so important you have to wake me from a sweet dream? The king’s beady eyes stared at Wolsey who shifted in his chair.

The guard handed the king a glass of wine bowing low before the King. He turned and handed one to Wolsey and then backed out of the room shutting the door again. The king watched him go. He yawned again. He looked at Wolsey. Well, out with it, Thomas what say you?

Wolsey took a much needed sip of his wine before answering. The wine was bitter, Wolsey frowned before answering. He put the goblet down on a table near the chair not wanting to drink any more of it. Bessie has had her child.

The king looked puzzled. Bessie?

Blount, she was with child so I sent her from court on your recommendation. The king still looked puzzled. Blonde hair, blue eyes, Lady-in-Waiting to Queen Katherine? Young girl?

The light finally dawned. Ah, Bess, yes, I wondered what had become of her. So she had my child so soon? What was it, another girl I will reckon? The king took a sip of his wine from a goblet that was ringed in jewels of white, blue, red and green and made of heavy gold. He ran his index finger around the rim of the goblet with a thoughtful gesture. He let his eyes watch his finger circle around the rim twice then raised them to Wolsey’s eyes. Well? He appeared to be holding his breath.

It is not another girl, Sire but a boy. A healthy boy with a cry that would wake the dead I would wager. He grinned at Henry who grinned back at him.

A boy? And he lives? Not like the other two from Katherine who died before being born or shortly thereafter?

He appears healthy and strong or so says Dr. Butts, your court physician who attended her.

By God I am blessed! The king jumped up spilling his wine in his haste to set it down, he ignored the red wine stain that seeped and spread across the front of his white nightdress.

But Wolsey noticed the stain and got a sudden chill. Henry bounded out of bed and grabbed Wolsey by the shoulders lifting him straight out of the chair. I have a son Thomas, at long last, a son! A healthy son that lives! He danced the two of them around the room laughing his hearty laugh that shook the very walls of the room.

The guard came in to see what was wrong and smiled at the two men dancing. As soon as Wolsey saw the guard he stopped and so did Henry. Henry was breathing hard but not as hard as Wolsey who was used to finer living and did not venture on a horse unless it was attached to a cart or a wagon. And then only if forced. He did not like to travel beyond his own residence. His bones ached for his bed and for the warmth that his wife could give him.

To bed, Thomas you look all undone. I will have a room prepared for you here.

Wolsey held up a hand. I prefer my own bed, Your Majesty. It is not far. Thank you for seeing me so late. He bowed and the king held out his hand for him to kiss. Wolsey held his breath as he kissed the King’s ring and then stood waiting to be dismissed.

You may go,Wolsey but I want my son under your tutelage. Arrange it. You will be his Godfather. His name shall be Henry Fitzroy which means son of Henry. Now go; rest now for in the morning we will have much to do. He grinned at the Cardinal. Almost as an afterthought he said, Arrange for Bess to be married to someone, I do not care who but make sure she lives far from the court. He paused. Go to your wife, Thomas.

Your Majesty knows that as a Man of God I am not allowed a wife.

The Pope is in Rome, not in London, Thomas. Enjoy your night and leave me to enjoy mine in peace. He turned to go back into his bed, noticed the wine stain and bellowed for his boy to bring him a clean nightshirt. Wolsey’s mind was on his own comfortable bed that his aching bones longed for, and the warm supper that awaited him.

***

Queen Katherine was furious when she found out Henry meant to have the boy and his mother at court. I refuse to have that bastard child and his whore of a mother here, she said in her softly-accented voice. As a Catholic and a noble of the Spanish court and your queen, I forbid it.

I wish to have the boy learn the ways of the court, Henry said glaring at her.

No, I refuse. No.

But eventually he wore her down. She agreed to have the boy educated by a court tutor but did not want to see the mother. She mocks me with her son, Katherine said looking at Henry with sad eyes. She knows that I cannot have a son and she will flaunt him in my face.

Bess would not do that, she is a kind girl, Henry said. He wrinkled his brow trying to remember what she looked like but no image came to him. I will bring the boy to court and you will not have a say in this matter any longer.

***

Chapter 1

1525 in the Year of Our Lord

Coming to Court

The red-bearded man towered over the boy as he held out an instrument with strings on it.

It’s a lute, boy. It belonged to my father, Henry the Seventh.

Take it, his mother said. It’s a gift. The boy stepped up to the man and took the lute.

He bowed. Thank you Your Majesty, he said.

The man guffawed. You may call me Father, the King said.

The boy lowered his eyes to the floor and shook his head. I cannot, he said glancing at his mother who sat at the trestle table with her hands in her lap. She smiled at him. He knew that this man was his father. His mother had told him so, many times. He had wondered why his name was not the same as hers, Blount. But he was called Henry Fitzroy. She explained that it meant son of Henry. He was the son of the King of England. But he had never met him until today. Just yesterday they had watched from their window in Durham House on the Strand as King Henry’s barge had traveled down the Thames with great ceremony. Trumpeters heralded the way with flags waving. All of the court seemed to be on the barge looking bright and colorful smiling and laughing at the crowds that lined the banks. Make way for the King! Your Majesty, King Henry the Eighth! The yeomen shouted. The people shouted back, "Good King

Hal!, and Long live the King!" They tossed flowers into the river as the barge passed. Fitzroy threw rose petals---plucked from their stems--- into the air watching them float with little effort down to the water where they drifted lazily among the many others. The King had waved, and shouted to him and to his mother as the barge passed.

Bess! Fitzroy! That made his mother laugh and her pale cheeks turn scarlet. Some of her blonde hair had escaped her cap and curled around her face. She had pleasing features with a long aristocratic nose that Fitzroy had inherited. He had his father’s blue eyes and red full lips that formed a bow. Now he searched the