The Italian Rose

Fifty

The tension in the air was thick as the silence between the Queen and her former Lady in waiting was awkward to say the least, the only noise for a few moments was the sound of a maid stroking the fire to warm up the room.

A moment or two passed as Isabella took a seat beside the bed, Jane blinked as her vision became clearer as she stared at the woman who had ruined her life.

"You..." Jane hissed, almost wishing that she had the strength to slap the woman that had stolen good Queen Catherine's throne. "Go away. Go! I do not wish for you to be here!"
Jane's breathing was heavy. There were a few times that she coughed harshly into the hankie that was in her hand.

Isabella, unphased by Jane's demands, just pulled the chair closer to the bed, feeling the slight draft from the window. Prehaps it was a ploy to try and keep Jane's fever down, but Isabella was beginning to get cold sitting there.

"Have you come here to gloat?" Jane adds, watching Isabella with her tired, sunken eyes. "You have won, is that not enough? You have stolen the man that I love, now you dare to gloat whilst I am on my deathbed?"

Isabella sighed, wanting to throttle Jane for her foolishness, but it would not look good for a queen to abuse a sickly woman.
"I stole nothing that was yours to take in the first place, Lady Jane."
Jane lightly scoffed. "My daughter will never know her true father because of you!"
"His majesty was ready to send you to a nunnery to make sure that you never darken our doorstep again."

"Liar! His majesty would never... He loves me and our daughter!"

"If he loves you, then why has he not come to visit you or set eyes upon your daughter? If he loved you, why is he not here to bid you farewell?"
Isabella's words hung in the air, Jane was sure that she was lying, but deep down... She knew it was the truth.

"He never loved you, Jane. The moment you so desperately cling onto with his majesty was short-lived. You knew that he was drunk, confused you for me, and you still believed that was love?"

The tears did nothing to sway Isabella from telling the dying woman the truth.

"It was I that had decided for you to get married, for you and your daughter to have a good and stable life away from court."

Jane's heart ached, knowing that she would never get to see her daughter grow up, marry, and have children of her own.
"What would come of my daughter after my death? Surely, Baron Belford would cease to adopt her as his own."

"Your daughter will be well cared for, this I promise you, Jane." Isabella replied, taking Jane's cold hand within her own. "And when she comes of age, she will join her royal siblings in the nursery as a companion, and his majesty would look for a good match for her."
Isabella allowed the thought of Agnes Belford growing up healthy, happy with the loving memory of the mother she would never come to know. There was a small smile of hope that appeared on Jane's face.

The Seymour family, even though they had disowned Jane, had come to Belford House, and their arrival was delayed due to a storm that suddenly appeared.

Lady Seymour sat on the other side of the bed. Even though she herself was not in good health, she did not wish her daughter dying alone without her there.

"Mama..." Jane wept, turning to face her mother. "I am sorry..."
"Hush, my sweet girl..." Lady Seymour spoke.

Isabella decided to allow the Seymours to bid their farewells to Jane in private. When she left the room, she was immediately surprised to see Henry standing there with Baron Belford.