The Italian Rose

Fourty-Eight

The Duke of Suffolk was called away from his duties as High Sheriff of Caernarvonshire alongside Sir Richard Bulkeley, he stood on the shores of England awaiting the arrival of the young Scottish Queen as her mother, Marie of Guise wrote to Henry about her fears for the young Queen, twice already those that converted the Scottish throne had tried to usurp the succession by placing James, James V's illegitimate son on the throne instead of Mary.

Men should never bow to the weaker sex.

That was their reasoning, Henry was out raged that simpletons dare to convert his nephew's throne, he agreed to send ten thousand men to aid the Scottish army in bringing these men to justice, so his beloved grand-neice could live her life without the worry of her claim to the Scottish throne being taken.

Young Prince Charles was also in attendance to welcome his future wife to England, Isabella hoped the presence of a child around Mary's age would lessen the girl's fears, thankfully Mary had successfully left Scotland with no issues and her mother was appointed Regent in her stead.

Finally, after what seemed like ages to the young Prince, Queen Mary had arrived safely to shore.

The girl of six was tall, fair skinned, with eyes as dark as burnt wood and golden red hair.

The Queen of Scotts sworn Protectors blocked the girl from view the moment they set eyes on the Duke of Suffolk, naturally with the threat on Mary's life, Charles Brandon did not blamed them for their hostility towards his presence.

"My good Lords, I am the Duke of Suffolk, " Charles spoke, stepping forward. "I am here on behalf of their majesties to welcome Queen Mary of Scotts to England."

Charles also beckoned the young Prince of Wales forward. He gave a small bow to Mary. "Your majesty, I am Prince Charles Tudor, I welcome you to England."

He spoke in perfect Scots Gaelic, the eyes of Mary widened as she heard the language of her homeland, she then did a perfect curtsey. "I thank you, Prince Charles and the Duke of Suffolk, for your most gracious welcome."

It surprised Charles that his future bride spoke English fluently, perhaps she also excelled greatly in the subject of languages much like himself and Elizabeth, it was here that Charles knew that Mary would fit in well with the English court.

"Come your graces, we must make haste if we wish to arrive at Hampton Court by midday."

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Isabella had pushed back, starting her confinement until little Queen Mary was adjusting well at court. Mary's grandmother, Antoinette de Bourbon, Duchess of Guise, had already arrived in England.

Twice, Antoinette de Bourbon spotted the King's eyes wandered through the Queen's ladies, stopping every now and then on one Lady in particular, who blushed and looked away when she captured the King's attention.

"Who is that?" Antoinette spoke, pointing a boney finger towards the blushing lady. "The girl in the hideous pink gown that makes her look like a stuffed pig."

Isabella slightly choked on her goblet of ale, her eyes landed on the Lady in question. "Lady Anne Bassett."

"Careful of that one, she may end up being a problem."

Isabella sipped on her drink, she shared a small look with Anne Boleyn. "Do not worry, your grace. I know how to fix a problem like Lady Bassett."

Antoinette laughed, clapping her hands in glee. "Yes. I have heard the rumours, they have reached all the way to the French court."