Daughter of Time

November 1554

Whitehall

From my window and despite my poor eyesight, I can just make out the blurry vision of the crimson decorated barge gliding its way through the Thames, on its way from Lambeth Palace to the landing bay of Whitehall, where my husband awaits the most important courier this country has yet seen.

Fidgeting with the tassel of the cushions in the bay window, I am impatient to catch my first glance of the red robes of my kinsman, our Papal Legate, Cardinal Pole. Finally sent to us from Pope Julius to restore England to the true church and absolve us from the years of schism.

I have prayed for this day for so long, it seems so surreal to think is really happening. After so many years of corruption and exploitation of my father and brothers heretical officials, my kingdom and its faithful subjects will no longer be stained with the sin of heresy.

At the landing bay, my husband waits as the large barge moors itself to allow His Eminence to disembark smoothly.

I had wished to be down there at my husbands' side, welcoming my kinsman and our country's saviour in person. But the cold winter weather has forced me to remain indoors for the sake of my health. It not only my health now that I must concern myself with. I have another's to think of, for I think God has granted me another miracle. I believe myself to with child.

My monthly courses have not come for over four months. I have missed months before due to ill health, but never for so long. My clothes no longer fit me as well as they once did. My bosom seems fuller and my hollowed eyes have vanished. My skin glows with the vibrancy of good health in just the same way as Queen Janes did. Though I do not have her quail cravings. I eat better at the table than I have done for a long time.

I have told no one for fear of it being a false hope, and the age-old tradition that rules such an announcement must wait until the child quickens in the womb. That magical movement that tells a woman the child she carries is alive. I wish I knew how long I had to wait until a woman typically feels her child quicken. I long to tell someone, anyone that I am carrying England's heir. But I cannot ask. If I do the spies in my household would spread rumours faster than an influx of plague.

I am sure Susan has guessed. She is my greatest confidant and friend, and a mother of two beautiful children herself. It would be impossible for her not to see the marked differences in my changing appearance. Yet, ever the good servant that she is, she does not over presume herself to ask.

I must be patient. He will give me a sign. I have waited patiently for many years to bear a child for England and now, I believe, God has been good enough to bless me with one. Just as he blessed me with a victory over my enemies so that I might be England's first reigning Queen and restore this great realm to the one true church, so now He has worked another so that this miracle child might continue my work when I am no longer able to do so.

The man who will help me accomplish this, my own cousin, now appears on the landing bay. His Cardinals red cassock is vibrant against the dull winter weather. I see him bow to my husband, every inch the king in his black velvet and gold satin-trimmed suit before he invites him to walk side by side up to the palace. Every honour possible will be given His Holiness's envoy. I shall see to that.

I have opted against anything too regal. For the first time since my accession I do not wish for my clothes to denote my sovereignty, but merely wish to show myself as the loving, devoted daughter of Christ, I have always been. I wear a gown of burnished red velvet with an under parchment of gold satin cut from the same material that lines Philips suit. At my throat, my treasured crucifix of gold studded with rubies and diamonds. Whilst at my breast is the diamond, gifted to me by Philip, attached with the La Peregrina pearl, which is already one of my favourite pieces.