Festina Lente

Chapter Forty-Six: Tis the Season

25th of December 1533 - Hampton Court Palace

"Who is that with Lord Suffolk?" Clarice asked feeling a little out of sort being back at court after being gone for so long, her eyes caught on the young woman who looked like she wished to be anywhere but at the festivities. 

Occasionally her eyes would drift over to where the King and Anne were dancing together and Clarice wondered if she realised that her displeasure could be seen upon her face. 

"His new bride, Lady Catherine Willoughby; her mother used to be a lady-in-waiting to the Infanta," George told her with a frown, it was the reason that she looked so sour he guessed at the sight of his sister with the King. 

Her mother's letter had been used to prove that the former Queen of England had been a liar, she had been in disgrace since and no amount of pleading had allowed Lady Willoughby to serve her former friend. 

However, the apple clearly did not fall far from the tree and there was no doubt in George's mind given the look on the new Duchess of Suffolk's face that she was a supporter of the Spanish Princess in exile. 

Although he was sure that Lord Suffolk would have spoken to his wife about hiding her true feelings for such matters; the young woman would be one of the minority that still disliked Anne. 

His sister's actions towards the common folk had endeared her and the fact that she had done what Katherine could not had certainly improved her position with the nobility. 

Clarice was not sure what to make of such news, her eyes watching the new Duchess wondering if the Duke had even realised the sign that he was sending with such a match especially given the tensions between the Boleyns and himself. 

Any sign that he was siding against the Boleyn family and in doing so making it clear that he was not a supporter of the Queen could cause issues; issues that could lead to unpleasantness for them all down the road. 

"Your brother does not join us, Your Grace?" Thomas Boleyn noted breaking Clarice from her thoughts, she turned warily to look at him knowing that he had not forgiven her for not giving George a son. 

It was highly unlikely that he would ever like her until she had done just that and a part of her did not care what he thought especially knowing that George loved her regardless of that fact.

"He wished to remain home with his wife, she has entered her confinement," Clarice explained recalling his letter and wishing more than anything that he could be here with her now; she had already spoken to George about her being with Mary when she delivered. 

It felt only right to offer the other woman such support especially given that her own mother was condemned to live out the rest of her life as a traitor in a nunnery. 

"I am sure he sends us his well wishes," Elizabeth added knowing that her husband's prickly nature could be a bit much for some, she glanced at Clarice and offered her a reassuring smile. 

It was not easy to be on the wrong end of her husband and Elizabeth doubted that Thomas genuinely cared about how heartless he appeared; his concern over legacy was just something one had to ignore. 

"Shall we dance?" George asked wishing to escape from his father for a moment, he had no doubts that Thomas would be waiting either way to complain about his continued lack of son. 

It was little wonder that he had not mentioned seeking out a third bride for George, as if the King would even consider allowing him to divorce when they needed the Medici alliance and he loved his wife. 

Clarice smiled at that, she took his hand and allowed him to led her onto the dance floor away from his parents; anything to be away from his father.