Small Time Jump.

Edward's Reign

March 1557: Queen Catherine emerges from confinement to attend a spectacular garden party thrown by the King. King Edward returns to Queen Catherine's bed. Barnaby Fitzpatrick returns to court.

Chapter XIV: The Queen of March.

18th March 1557: Whitehall Palace, England

The young girls at court, those serving the Queen, Princess Margaret, Princess Mary and the Duchess of Suffolk, danced around the Maypole in the distance as the King, dressed entirely in black, and the Queen, resplendent in Yellow - the English Colour of Celebration - descended down the pathway with the blast of trumpets signifying their arrival in the grounds of Whitehall Palace.

Queen Catherine held a large umbrella, willow like in design, which covered her face. Then, she curtseyed to her husband, who gave a nod of acknowledgement and let her move off to mingle with her own friends, while he went with his.

"Good shot, Barnaby!" called the King as Barnaby Fitzpatrick, recently returned from exile, struck the nearby target directly on the bull's-eye. "Very well done!"

The Queen had disposed off her umbrella and walked around the edge of the party, watching her husband closely, still remembering the news of Margaret Willoughby's approaching due date.

"Sweetheart, come here!" The King caught sight of Princess Margaret and held his arms wide, allowing the almost three year old Princess to lift up her skirts and run to him. Unlike the Queen, Princess Margaret was resplendent in a gown of Tudor Green, with an image of the Tudor Rose on the front and white and red lace around the arms, rim and neckline of the dress.

"Papa!"

"Ah, my Margaret!" King Edward caught his daughter by the arm pits and hoisted her high into the air, spinning around as he did so. Then, several of the younger boys at the celebration - the younger sons and brothers of current noblemen - began to attack him with swords. "Oh, guards, guards, protect me!"

The King wasn't harmed and played along with the children, Princess Margaret smiling and clapping in his arms. "Yeomen! En garde! You're going to the Tower! Protect me! Protect your King!"

"Queen!" exclaimed Margaret, catching sight of Catherine. "Queen Catherine!"

"Margaret!" Queen Catherine waved happily at her step-daughter, allowing the boys who had been play fighting with her husband to disappear off, play fighting amongst themselves. Princess Margaret waved back to Queen Catherine, who retreated, allowing the King a few moments alone with his daughter.

"My Papa!" said Princess Margaret, throwing her arms around her father's neck and hugging him tightly.

Holding her by the bottom and stroking her down the back, King Edward smiled. "My Margaret, my darling Tudor Rosebud. Thank you, Lady Fitzroy; I will take care of my daughter for today."

Mary Fitzroy, the King's half-sister-in-law and Princess Margaret's governess, curtseyed and left at a nod of the King's head.

Walking along the length of the grounds, watching the festivities and readjusting to being outside rather than resting in a bed to be churched after childbirth, Queen Catherine passed her mother, Lady Frances Stokes.

"Catherine,"

"Yes, Mama?"

"Your recent childbirth alarms me," said Lady Frances. Her voice remained low and quiet as she and the Queen walked together through the crowds.

"What about it? I gave the King a healthy, living child."

"A girl," hissed Lady Frances. "Who can be easily replaced by a bastard or through a divorce. Those closest to the crown can easily conspire to get rid of you."

"I am closest to the crown, Mama," replied Catherine. "I am the King's wife - the Queen of England!"

"And you should remember how you got there!" Lady Frances stepped in front of her daughter, grasping her tightly by the arm.

"I remember how I got there!" Queen Catherine wrenched her arm free of her mother's grip, glaring daggers at her mother as she did so. "And it was not all you! It was not all you, or the former Lord Northumberland, or any other man you wish to name! It was also me. He fell in love with me; he respects me... and our daughter."

Queen Catherine passed her mother, leaving Lady Frances stood in her place, jaw slack at being spoken to in such a manner. Then, Queen Catherine turned and laughed, openly and wildly.

"What is it?"

"You have no need to worry, Mama," grinned Queen Catherine. "There is good news all round - I have had a healthy, living child and the King has expressed interest at returning to my bed! And, I... I shall willingly part my legs and let him have his way with me. Then, soon enough, I will give him a son! We are on the Edge of a Golden World!"

She and Lady Frances laughed and, arms spread wide, Queen Catherine span on the spot, her long yellow dress surrounding her. Then, suddenly, she froze as she caught sight of one of her husband's servants passing through the crowd towards him.

The servant whispered something in the King's ear and he smiled, whirling around and hoisting Princess Margaret, who shrieked with joy, into the air. His voice, as he spoke to the quietened crowd, rang loud and clear. "I have a son! Mistress Willoughby has had my son!"

The crowd, even if they supported Queen Catherine, applauded for the King and even Princess Margaret clapped happily. She may have been only near three years old, but she knew as well as every person in the grounds, that despite her father having a son, he was not the Queen's child and thus posed no threat to her.

"Congratulations, Majesty."

"Thank you, Barnaby."

The King and Barnaby embraced, both making sure not to squash the small Princess in between them.

19th March 1557: Whitehall Palace, England: Queen Catherine's Chambers.

Tall and handsome, with a thin waist and thick rippling muscles, the King had grown very attractive now that he had shed his former childlike appearance and build. Queen Catherine smiled to him from the bed as his servant stripped him naked and left, allowing the King to climb into bed with the Queen.

"I want to take you for pleasure, and hold you in my arms for desire," he breathed, moving her into his arms and kissing her. "I want you to know that it is your kiss that I want, not another heir to the throne. You can know that I love you, quite for yourself, when I come to your bed, and not as the Tudor's broodmare."

Catherine tilted back her head and looked at him under her eyelashes. "You think to bed me for love and not for children? Isn't that sin?"

His arm came around her waist, still soft from pregnancy, and his palm cupped her breast as he grinned lustily, growling: "I shall make sure that it feels richly sinful."

And, with that, he straddled her, kissed her passionately and claimed her, repeatedly, that night.

As the two lay curled up in bed together, the King's leg over hers, his arms holding her body close and her head on his muscular chest, Catherine asked, "Did you mean what you said? You lay with me because you want too?"

"I did, my darling," Edward assured her, his hand snaking it's way down her thigh. "I meant every word of it. You are my Queen, but you are my wife before that; the Queen provides heirs, the wife pleases her husband and his needs when he needs to be pleased."

"And you please the Queen, when she needs to be pleased?" Queen Catherine was flirting with him, and he knew it.

"Ohhhhh," groaned the King through a kiss as he pulled her closer than ever, so that their bodies touched in all possible places. "Always. Every night if she wishes."

"And your mistress - she will go, so that you can spend more time pleasing your Queen?"

"Yes," he promised, snatching another kiss from his wife. "Yes - she will go. And so will this room. You are my Queen and wife, and my Queen and wife beds with me in my chambers every night; my chambers are your chambers. Now... the King wishes to please his Queen."

"And the Queen wishes the King to please her."

Edward didn't need telling twice; he rolled Catherine over and claimed her again.

Neither slept that night, and it was only when the Queen's servants began to stir that the King finally subdued himself and rolled onto his back, pulling his Queen onto his chest.

"I am so glad that breakfast is soon," he murmured between kisses as his hand stroked her arm and his legs closed around hers. "I am starving to death, you wanton woman!"

Catherine laughed. "Well, if you'd let me out of the bed, I could get you some bread and cheese."

"Yes, but you would have been gone too long," breathed the King, kissing the nape of her neck as she attempted to roll away. "I couldn't spare you. Not now. I shall wait until breakfast; until then, I shall hold you close and have you as mine."

Catherine groaned, stretching and pushing out her breasts as she rolled over into his embrace. "Very well; I too can wait. Until the servants come knocking, I am yours."

"And I am so glad that I chose to break the imperial alliance that your sister's father-in-law wanted me to make," breathed the King, kissing her lips. "For the Infanta married the Duke of Mantua... and I got something much better instead: you."

"Shut up," breathed Catherine, flushing as red as her hair. "And make me yours."

"With pleasure."

And, kissing her, he rolled her over again.

20th March 1557: Whitehall Palace, England

Barnaby Fitzpatrick bowed in front of the King, arriving before the rest of the council. "Majesty."

"Barnaby!" The King rose, embracing his friend and clapping him affectionately on the back. "Welcome back to court."

"Thank you, Majesty," Barnaby smiled, pulling out of the embrace with his Sovereign and friend.

"How is Lady Katherine?" asked the King, truly interested in the life of his longest and most dearest friend at court. "Is she settled in the country and ready to have your child?"

"Lady Northumberland, Majesty, is well," Barnaby couldn't help but smirk to himself, watching the King's expression change from one of interest to shock. "She grows round and fat with my child."

"You married her?"

"In a private ceremony," smiled Barnaby. "I would have asked Your Majesty's permission and invited you to attend as a witness as well, but being in exile I thought it unwise to communicate with you until such time as I was summoned."

"Quite right," agreed the King. "Quite right. Married. That is all of us then - you, me and Robert."

"I hear Robert has left court again?"

"Yes," agreed the King. "Lady Dudley had another child; three daughters - Elizabeth, Jane and Mary. Robert is elated, apparently. He asked permission to return home to Cumnor Place to congratulate her. He probably will not return until the end of the month."

"If I know Robert - and I do - then I know, Majesty, that Robert will have returned to Cumnor, congratulated his wife and whisked her off to bed."

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