15th of March 1531 - London, England
The red dress with gold detailing that Clarice had selected for her wedding day fit her perfectly and she looked every inch a noble on a day which would see her elevated back to a Duchess.
A fact that had been welcomed by the King of France who had sent his agreements of her marriage to the new Duke of Bedford.
Knocking on the door to the chamber where she was dressing pulled Clarice from her thoughts and it was quickly opened for the woman to come inside by one of her ladies before the hurried back to helping Clarice.
"You look beautiful," the woman announced eyeing Clarice for a moment before she made her way further into the room, her dark eyes taking in every inch of the woman that stood before her looking rather nervous.
Clarice offered her a weak smile, she felt rather ill at the idea that she was getting married; she'd barely been able to sleep last night no matter how much she had wanted to.
The very idea that today was her wedding day had haunted her all night, she had no idea what to expect and it was sure to be a grand affair especially with the King in attendance.
"It seems only proper that we meet now and my daughter informs me that you have no mother to offer you words of wisdom on such a day," the woman stated softly recalling her own wedding day.
Back then things had been so different and her family had been rather disappointed with the fact that her chosen match was a lowly courtier who had little to his name.
"I am Elizabeth Boleyn, Duchess of Wiltshire and Countess of Ormond," the woman stated introducing herself to Clarice, they were to be family afterall and it was high time that she met the woman.
It wouldn't be long before Clarice was married to George and Elizabeth Boleyn was greatly hopeful that this marriage would work out better than the last one that her son had been contracted to.
"Your Grace," Clarice greeted quietly, her eyes darting away and trying to think of what else to say to George's mother; she had not expected to have to converse with her moments before she was married to George.
It was strange enough that they had somehow managed to avoid meeting one another, Anne having said that her mother preferred life in the country instead of at court after already serving two Queens.
"Please we are to be family." Elizabeth Boleyn said dismissing the need for titles, she might be a Duchess now but she saw herself no different than the woman that had married beneath her station when she'd married her husband.
There was no reason for family to address themselves by their titles especially given the fact that they had risen higher than any of them had thought possible once Anne had held the King's attention.
"I am aware that I will never be able to replace your mother but I hope that we shall become close and that perhaps you should think of me in such a way one day," Elizabeth Boleyn said kindly.
She recalled what it had been like when she had lost her own mother and was raised by her father's second wife; who had been as kind as she could be but had clearly favoured her own children not those left without a mother.
"I have a gift for you," Elizabeth Boleyn continued reaching for the item that she had brought with her, she held the velvet pouch in her hands and hesitated for a moment before removing the necklace that was inside.
The decision to make a necklace like the one that she and her two daughters wore had come to her one night and had been so overwhelming that she had not been able to ignore it.
"My daughters both have one and now so shall you," Elizabeth Boleyn informed Clarice, she had not felt the need when George had been married to the Parker girl; she had not disliked her but had felt that her son could make a better match.
Now George had one and the ties between their families would support Anne once she had become Queen; there was hope that this marriage would produce an heir for George.
Clarice swallowed preparing herself to look at the item that she had seen Anne wear often, she paused upon seeing the pearl necklace with golden lettering but it was the lettering that stalled her.
Instead of the golden B that Clarice had grown used to seeing around Anne's neck, she was greeted by the sight of a golden M making her heart pound in her chest and she offered a confused look to Elizabeth Boleyn.
"I thought it would be a nice nod to the fact that while you are becoming a Boleyn, you shall always be a Medici," Elizabeth Boleyn explained to her, a soft smile knowing that it didn't matter that Clarice was becoming a Boleyn; she would always be a Medici at heart and she wanted her to remember that.
Stepping forward, Elizabeth Boleyn moved to help her put on the necklace that she had made for her; she fastened the clasp on the necklace and stepped back to admire Clarice.
"Thank you," Clarice whispered touching the golden M, the metal feeling cool to the touch and a lump formed in her throat at the gesture; she had not thought that she would be welcomed by the Boleyn Matriarch in such a way.
Before she could say anymore, the door to the chamber opened and Ippolito stepped inside; he stared at the two women for a moment surprised to see that Clarice was not alone.
"My apologises. But it's time," Ippolito informed his sister, there was no putting it off nor could they keep someone as important as the King waiting on such a day.
Elizabeth Boleyn nodded her head, she gave Clarice's hand a small squeeze knowing that there would be time for them to talk once the wedding was over; she turned on her heel and walked out of the room to find her seat.
"You look beautiful sister. The Duke of Bedford is a lucky man indeed and our father would be proud," Ippolito said softly once they were alone, he moved forward eyeing the new addition to his sister's outfit with a soft smile knowing that this was it.
A part of him had known this day would come but he had never thought that it would be by his hand nor would he have been the one to give Clarice away on her wedding day; a part of him had always assumed the role would fall to someone else.
Taking Clarice's arm, Ippolito lead her from the room where she'd gotten ready with two of her ladies following after them as they made their way down the hall towards the chapel.
Each step bringing Clarice closer to the chapel where she was to be married, her stomach churning each time she took a step until they finally reached the entrance of the chapel.
Staring to the front of the chapel where soft joyful music filled the air, Clarice eyed the man that was to be her husband who was speaking softly with Mark Smeaton; he looked rather handsome in his finery.
George turned to look at his bride when Mark had given him the nod that she had arrived, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of Clarice; she looked radiant in the red gown that she had opted to wear for their wedding.
His eyes didn't leave her as Ippolito walked his sister down the aisle, a tight grip on her hand almost as if he was afraid to let her go in case she decided to run back the way that they had come given how her hands trembled.
Upon reaching the front of the chapel where George was stood with Cranmer; Ippolito carefully handed over his sister before taking his own place.
Offering Clarice's hand an encouraging squeeze, George slowly sunk down on his knees accompanied by Clarice; the latin words of Cranmer filled the air as the ceremony begun.
Watching the sight before him, Henry smiled and offered a glance to Anne who was stood on his right beside her mother and father; it would soon be their turn and he was hopeful that their wedding would be even more joyous than this one.
"Amen," Cranmer announced bringing an end to the opening prayer, his words echoed by those around the chapel that had been invited to attend.
Once the opening prayer was done, the guests took their seats and the room was almost filled with silence except for Cranmer's words; he looked around the room knowing that today was one of importance.
The joining of two families was always such a big deal and this wedding would see the Boleyn prepared for the rise of one of their own; the Lady Anne would be married to the King soon enough.
"Brethren we are gathered here today..." Cranmer started opening the wedding, his dark eyes casting down towards the groom and his bride while he spoke.
The flowers that decorated Clarice's hair had been handed picked from the gardens that morning and complimented her dark brown locks; there was no denying that the Duke of Bedford was a lucky man indeed.
Clarice took a deep breath, there was no going back nor could she change her mind now; she would be a married woman by the end of this.