As Promised, to mark the two year anniversary of publishing this story - it's the 4th of June here, even if not across the pond, so enjoy this last chapter of Beatrix...a series of one-shot sequels is in the production stages, but no promises as to how soon it'll appear!

Chapter 45- Epilogue

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"No, not the scarlet, the blue! The blue, you fool! Or no, forget that, the green. The green brings out my eyes and I must look my best when we ride out with my royal aunt and uncle this morning! And where's my breakfast? I asked for it ages ago!"

"Your porridge is on its way, Lady Bridget."

"Porridge? I don't want porridge! I want eggs! Eggs, wheat cakes and berries!"

"But Lady Bridget. You asked for porridge and cream when you woke up this morning."

"No, I didn't, you idiot! Have you gone completely witless? I'd never ask for porridge. I hate porridge!"

"But Lady Bridget..."

"Urgh! Mama! The servants are being stupid again! Mama!"

Bridget slammed out of her bedroom and ran down the hall, shouting for her mother. George heard her go and groaned inwardly. Kathy had never learnt not to indulge the children and Bridget had grown up fractious and irritable. The slightest thing going against her wishes would precipitate a flood of bad temper and insults which culminated in a flight into Kathy's arms, where she would inevitably be soothed and petted...and bribed into compliance if need be.

George knew the servants lived in fear of her and wished he'd taken a greater role in her upbringing, one that had started early enough to control her. But he hadn't. He'd done what his father had done and more or less left the children to Kathy and their governess until they were old enough to be of some use to him. He'd done it because he'd thought that was what was expected of him. He'd never realised what would come of it. He just thanked his lucky stars that Edmund was growing up with his royal cousins. At least he wouldn't turn out so wilful, even if the girls did.

Though George was trying to curb Tilly before she copied Bridget too much. It was difficult, though, because, now, being four, she was becoming old enough to realise that her thirteen year old sister was so much more pampered than she was. She was starting to find it unfair. And Kathy was never any good at saying no to her either, so it made George's life an uphill battle.

Sighing, he hurried after Bridget, only to find her nestled in Kathy's arms, weeping passionately into her shoulder.

"I hate them! They always do what Tilly wants. They just don't like me because I'm not your real daughter!"

"That's not true, darling. You know it isn't. Mama will talk to them, Mama will. Just hush now, there's a sweet girl."

Kathy was patting Bridget's back as though she was a tiny child again. She glanced at George over her head.

"Go and get my diamond necklace and coronet. Bridget can wear them today."

"Really?" Bridget's eyes lit up. Kathy nodded, "Maybe if we dress you as befits your rank, they'll have no choice but to remember who they're talking to."

"Thank you, Mama!"

"My pleasure, sweetheart." Kathy kissed her wayward daughter's brow and rose. George, who hadn't moved, caught her arm as she passed him in the doorway.

"This has got to stop," he said lowly, "You can't keep indulging her like this. If nothing else, she's setting a bad example for Tilly."

"I know, I know. This is the last time, George, I swear."

"You always say that and it never is."

"This time I mean it. On England, Harry and St George."

Knowing that her words were hollow, but having no way of proving it, George merely harrumphed and let her past.

"Honestly," He thought to himself, "I'm the Earl of Ormonde and Pembroke, the brother of the most beloved Queen England's ever had and one of the most powerful men in England, yet I can't keep my own household in order. Where did I go wrong?"

He exhaled slowly, "Well, let's just hope Lady Honour is better at controlling little Lady Ossory, or else Edmund is going to have an extremely wilful wife as well as two capricious sisters. I wouldn't wish that on him."

Then he went down the steps to the courtyard to check that all was ready for the next stage of the progress.

In Middleham, meanwhile, another man and wife were arguing, not about their children, for they had none, but arguing nonetheless.

"For God's sake, wife, must you be so disagreeable?! The King is coming to stay with us, that's an honour!"

"You knew I didn't want them here! You knew, and yet you still invited them! No true gentleman would ever go against his wife so openly. But then, you're no true gentleman, are you?"

"Zounds! Are you still throwing that in my face? It's been over nine years, Lady Mary!"

"I don't care! You're still beneath me, because you're too spineless to push yourself forward at Court!"

"I'm happy to take whatever His Majesty sees fit to give me! As you should be!"

"I should have had so much more! I should have been Lady Northumberland! But no, I get shunted aside and fobbed off with a mere Viscount while those jumped-up Knight's daughters swan around, play-acting at being the greatest ladies in the land. Well, I won't do it, I tell you! I won't bend the knee to them in my own home."

"What you're saying is treason! I should divorce you and see you arrested this instant!"

"Why don't you then? Do it! Do it! Or are you too much of a coward even for that?"

"Don't push me," Anthony warned, his voice uncharacteristically cold. But Mary simply glared at him.

"Do it. Or I shall regard you as the greatest coward that ever lived."

Then she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Five children stood clustered around the upper window of Sizergh Castle, the Marquis of Lancaster's family seat, three of his own and two of his wards. The eldest of his trueborn heirs, a raven-haired girl of nine, shook her curly hair out over her shoulders as she answered something her younger sister had said.

"Don't be silly, Pippa. I'm not going to Court. None of us are. Kitty and I are joining Catelyn's household because it's getting bigger because she's going to be Queen of Scotland. We're not going to see any more of Aunt Marie and Uncle Henry than you will."

"Yes you will," Pippa pouted, "I don't understand why you get to go and I don't. I'm only a year and a half younger than you are. I'm closer in age to Catelyn than you and Kitty are."

"That's true, Pippa, but if you went with them, you wouldn't be able to be part of Jacquetta's household when she married and I thought you liked Jackie better?" The older of the two boys at the window raised his eyebrows and Pippa scowled.

"I suppose so. I just don't think it's fair that Maggie and Kitty get to go and I don't."

"Well, I'm older than you and I'm not going either," Charles Howard, Kitty's older brother and the other ward of Lord and Lady Lancaster, who had been taken in when Anne realised that the then three year old Kitty was too attached to her older brother ever to settle at Sizergh without him, pointed out.

At twelve, he was the oldest of the children, but, because he had his heart set on a career as an Ambassador, his foster father had agreed to let him go to one of the minor Ducal Courts as a page to improve his languages rather than taking up his expected place in the Prince of Wales's household. He was due to leave for Florence in the autumn. He would be sorely missed, if only because he often played the peacekeeper between Maggie and the ever-sulky Pippa, who much resented her place as the second daughter, the middle child in the schoolroom.

"But you're getting to go abroad. That's exciting," Pippa whined. Before Charles could reply, the youngest child at the window, the five year old Percy heir, Tobias, piped up, "I see banners!"

Instantly, all five children remembered why they were standing by the window in the first place. Maggie snapped her head round, squinting into the sunlight with the blue-green eyes that were so like her father's.

"It's the royal standard. They're here! Maman, Jamie, they're here! Aunt Marie's here!" She ran off, shouting for her mother and youngest brother, three year old James. The other children followed far more sedately, Charles bowing and offering Pippa his hand like a gentleman to make her smile. She accepted his escort gratefully and they headed out into the courtyard to greet their royal uncle, aunt and cousins.

Catelyn rode her dapple-grey pony between Mama and Papa, head held high. She was trying not to show how scared she was. After all, she was going to meet her future husband in York. She was going to be the Queen of Scots, just like her aunt Margaret. Besides, she had to be the strong one. For Jackie, if not for herself. Maria had left for France a year earlier to be the Duchess of Orleans and Jackie had been so upset. She loved Maria best of all their brothers and sisters, so her leaving had been really hard for her. Catelyn had to be extra nice to her to make her feel better, especially now that her betrothal would remind Jackie of Maria leaving. She couldn't show how scared she was, either.

"All right, angel?"

Papa looked over at her and she nodded, "Yes, Papa."

"Good girl. You're so brave, you know that? A true Princess."

He leaned over from his saddle and squeezed her shoulder. She forced her lips up into a smile.

"Thank you, Papa."

When he let her go, however, she dropped back to ride alongside her older brother Lionel. He smiled at her.

"You'll be fine, Catelyn. You're doing really well as it is."

"Thank you," she whispered. And it did mean a lot to hear. Lionel didn't often spend time with her. He tended to focus his attention on Hal and Jackie, even though the latter had always preferred Maria, while she was closer to Dickon. To hear Lionel praising her for once was a pleasant surprise. They rode along in silence for a while, before she, emboldened by the sudden trust that seemed to be blossoming between them, blurted, "He just sounds so old! What if he thinks I'm just a silly little girl?"

"You are a silly little girl," Lionel retorted with brotherly candour. At the look on her face, however, he softened, "You'll grow up. You'll grow up as beautiful as Mama and King James will have no choice but to fall in love with you."

"Do you think so?"

"If he doesn't, I'll have no choice but to declare war on Scotland, will I?"

Catelyn laughed at her older brother's flippancy and he chuckled with her.

"That's better. Now, tell you what. I bet you half an angel you can't beat me to Aunt Anne's."

"Lionel! We can't!"

She might have protested, but when her older brother spurred his horse away from her, she couldn't resist. She gave her pony its head and fled after him, hurtling lengths ahead of the procession.

"Papa's going to be so angry! We're not behaving properly!" She panted.

"Nonsense!" Lionel shouted gleefully, "He knows as well as anyone we have to please the people. And they love it. Listen!"

And indeed, when Catelyn paused to listen, she heard them roaring her name and Lionel's.

"God Bless the Lion Prince! England's young lion!"

"God Save the Young Lion!"

"Princess Catelyn!"

"The Angel Princess!"

"The Thornless Rose!"

"The Lion and the Rose!"

"The Lion and the Rose!"

Breathless, Catelyn urged her pony on through the cheering crowd, only dimly aware of the even more raucous shouts building behind her, where her parents were passing.

"Bluff King Hal! Huzzah for Bluff King Hal!

"Queen Marie! God Bless Good Queen Marie!"

"The Golden Queen!"

"The Golden Queen and the Dragon King!"

"Beatrix! Beatrix!"

"And then Lionel and I raced each other here and he let me win, so he owes me half an angel and the crowd were cheering us and they were shouting for Mama and Papa too and..."

Now safe and sound in the arms of her favourite aunt, Catelyn was much happier and back to her usual bubbly self.

Anne laughed, "Slow down, ma miel, catch your breath. You can tell me all about it later, when you've washed up and changed."

"Yes, Aunt Anne," Catelyn murmured, catching Maggie's eye over her aunt's shoulder and quickly letting her older cousin take charge of her and begin to pull her away.

However, on the threshold of Sizergh Castle, she turned, pert little nose scrunched in confusion.

"The common people called Mama something odd."

"What was it, ma miel?"

"They shouted 'Beatrix!' as Mama went past. Why would they shout that? It's not her name."

Papa, who had just dismounted and was helping Mama off her horse, overheard her question.

"You know your Latin, Catelyn. You tell me."

"But...it means she who makes happy. I know that. But why would they shout it for Mama?"

"Because that's who she is," Papa explained, kissing Mama as she slid down into his arms, "She made me happy after Maria's mother died and she made me happy by bringing me all of you. She's also made England happy by making her safe. So of course they're going to shout 'Beatrix' for Mama. No name suits her better. She truly is my Beatrix."

"And mine," Catelyn replied, running over to slip her hand into Mama's, not caring that it broke every rule Lady Salisbury and Lady Willoughby had ever drilled into her. in that instant, with her family gathered around her, she could almost forget the future. She could almost forget that, within weeks, she would be the Queen of Scots and addressed as such.

In that moment, she was no one but her father's little angel; the eldest Princess left in England.

She was no one but Catelyn and all was right with the world.

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