The Other Henry VIII

Marriage Contracts

"I don't blame the poor woman for staying upstairs," chuckled Henry.
"Nor do I," agreed Leia with a nod. "Widowhood is not a pleasant experience."
"Do you miss him?"
"Miss whom?" It was a foolish question, for there could only be one answer.
"Richard Cavill. I'll admit, he was a better man than most. You must miss him somewhat, Leia."
"A little," she replied brusquely, filling her throat with the thick wine to avoid Henry's eye. "Shall we dance?"

Her husband gave an onerous sigh and ignored the urge to grab another pie. "Very well." His stomach was still churning. "But after this song, you shall have to find another partner. I don't feel very dynamic tonight."

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The matter of his bride-to-be had quite escaped Daniel's mind until that evening.
At first, he had been rather excited. The prospect of any European arrival at court was usually enough to raise his spirits, for there always had to be some new blood filling the cracks between the great families of England.

Over the past few months, there had been a surge of Westovers taking up residence at the royal court. They were flocking to the Queen's side, of course, desperate for her favour now that she had a son in the cradle. Everywhere Daniel turned, at least three giggling blonde girls or gangling youths clogged his vision; it was worse than an infestation.

On the other hand, the Starling apartments were more sparsely populated than ever. Tiring of his father's exhausting, overbearing company, Daniel had written desperately to a number of his cousins, however distant, requesting that they come. His father's Scottish cousin, Joseph Douglas, had politely declined, as had the Earl of Rochford. Even his own mother refused to join him at court, declaring in a letter six pages long that she would rather swallow arsenic than live beneath the same roof as her husband.

In retaliation, Daniel's rendezvous with Edmund became more and more frequent; so much so that any moment not spent in his company felt like a moment wasted. His head was so full of longing, for those stolen, passionate hours of refuge in his chambers, that there was no hope of space for the woman that he would marry one day.
But tonight, all those thoughts came gushing back as soon as he observed her approaching, on the arm of his father. His cousin Jane, whom he had been talking to, offered him a sympathetic smile.
"Good luck," she said pityingly, before vanishing into the sea of courtiers.

Daniel managed a somewhat convincing grin in the two seconds that it took for his father and fiancée to reach him, which he smoothly concealed with a bow.
"My Lady, allow me to introduce you to my son, Daniel,"  announced the Duke, gesturing rather pretentiously towards his son. "Daniel, this is Lady Bianca de Luca."
The woman stood before him was indeed as beautiful as her reputation implied. Her raven-black hair was parted down the centre, framing a pale, heart-shaped face,  and pulled elegantly into a braid that fell past her waist. The dark orange skirts of her silk gown fell in gentle folds from an elaborate girdle, the jewels of which glinted as brightly as those of her hairnet and earrings.

"My Lady," greeted Daniel tersely. It was not long ago that he would have chased a woman like this. "Welcome to the English court."
"My Lord," she returned, dropping into a flamboyant curtsy. Her voice was deeper than one would expect, and heavily accented.
The Duke, sensing that his presence was unnecessary, decided to return to his seat— though not before he had hissed in his son's ear, "Make me proud."

Daniel, grateful that his father had not lingered, offered Bianca his arm.
"How was your journey, My Lady?"
"Tiring but pleasant," she answered levelly. "I do not like the weather here. It is too ... cold and windy. And the people are not so nice either, I think."
He laughed warmly. "It appears you have captured the full measure of our country already, My Lady. You shall learn to love it here soon enough. "
Bianca did not seem entirely reassured, but she nodded her head gracefully all the same. "I hope so too, My Lord."
A wave of relief crashed over him as he caught sight of Edmund in their path. As agreeable as this young lady appeared to be, he would take any excuse not to be alone with her.