Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to For King and Court. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
this most blessed of days; the wedding of BC/CB
Topic Started: Dec 4 2010, 10:33 PM (389 Views)
Catherine Howard
Unregistered

OOC: All righty guys, here's how this will work. I will post the ceremony from Catherine's POV, then Cara will come in and post the ceremony from Charles' POV, then, your people's characters can come in with their thoughts on the ceremony.

This is in the Great Hall because there is a banquet afterwards, where people can eat, drink, be merry, and offer congratulations and/or gifts to the happy couple. If you want to interact with other's characters in this thread, or make other threads to interact, that will be fine. However you want to do it. Let's make this fun, and enjoyable!

Oh yeah, I kinda fudged on the ceremony. I worked with what little I had. :P


*****

December 26, 1511

Thank God she had her sisters and other ladies attending her, else she might have done a repeat of what happened in the gallery, and fell over on Charles. To even have the ceremony in the Royal Chapel...it showed how much the king favored Charles and this union. She walked down the aisle on unsteady legs, though, and felt all eyes on her. Lord, keep me steady. I wish not to embarrass my husband. It seemed like an eternity before she finally neared him and gave him a nod of the head. "Your Grace," she murmured, and knelt with him to listen to the priest give Holy Mass. She knew of the wedding being one of the seven sacraments of the holy church, from viewing the weddings of both Queen Margaret and Queen Francesca. But she never dreamed she would be in their place, marrying a man of such standing and stature as the Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon.

Every so often during the priest's long, droning presentation of the mass, she glanced over at Charles, and studied his features. Yes, she'd taken walks with him, but this was the first time she was able to view him in such detail. He was chiseled, almost as if a statue in repose, and so handsome. I must remember to thank my uncle, and of course, His Majesty. After all, she would not have been able to marry him without the help of her uncle, and the blessing of the king. Though she could not stare at him for the entirety of the ceremony...she would have plenty of time to stare at him for the rest of her life. She sighed, and turned her attention back toward the priest, for it was now time to receive the communion.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom done. Thy will be done on Earth, as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the Evil One. Deliver us, Lord, from every evil, and grant us peace in our day. In your mercy keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ." Catherine, along with the attendants and people present, replied, "For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours, now and forever."

After he gave the rite of peace, and they sang the Lamb of God, the priest broke the host and placed it in the chalice, in turn, giving it to Catherine. "The body and blood of Christ." Catherine took the chalice and drank of the wine, taking the host into her. "Amen." Once it was all finished, the priest bade everyone stand. "I present to you His Grace, the Duke of Suffolk, and Her Grace, the Duchess of Suffolk. May your union be blessed. Ite, missa est." There. It was done. She was now Catherine Brandon, the Duchess of Suffolk. She placed her hand on Charles' arm as he led her out of the church, nodding at those who greeted her with "Your Grace." This was strange. No longer was she Lady Catherine Howard. It would take some getting used to.

*****

In the banquet hall, there was much joy and revelry as she sat by her husband, taking in the chatter, listening to the music, and hearing the chatter. "Your Grace, and Your Grace," a man she did not know said, bowing to them both. "Might I offer my congratulations to you both." Catherine blushed, and nodded her head. "Thank you, sir. I hope you enjoy yourself this evening." She was never used to this much attention, never in her sixteen years of living. "Charles, how are you faring?" She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. "I must confess, this attention from all these people is rather unnerving. I have done nothing to warrant such flattery." Her eyes scanned the multitudes of people present, and she so hoped she might see someone she knew, a friendly face or even a member of her family. That might make her feel better. "Do you think I might have someone bring me some wine? Or I could go and find it myself, Your Grace; I don't mind in the least."
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Charles Brandon
Unregistered

At the very least, he’d managed to mostly accustom himself to the idea of what was to happen today. A marriage between himself and the Lady Catherine Howard. She was most eager to be married, but he supposed she’d been raised for that. She would have been eager to marry, probably regardless of who her intended was. Raised to be a wife and bear sons and, luckily enough for her, she had an uncle high standing, and far reaching, enough to arrange a good marriage. To him. Charles hadn’t been privileged enough to have a say in the arrangements; he’d only been informed when everything had been settled and agreed upon. That hadn’t been how it was supposed to work. He wasn’t a pawn.

But no, everyone was a pawn here. No matter where you stood in the court and with the king, in some way or another unless you were the king himself, you were only a pawn in the game of court. And that was the way life would always be. Up until now, the whole of the thing had worked well enough for him. He was just going to have to hope that this turned out for the best too. He had no real objections to Catherine, save for the fact that he hadn’t wanted marriage so early on in life. But he was resigned to the inevitable and determined to make the best of it. Mostly.

Charles waited for his soon-to-be wife to take the long walk down the aisle and he wished her the best. She’d gotten flustered upon finding out it was he that she was to marry, and she’d actually fallen over. He didn’t wish that same embarrassment now, on her in front of all these people. But she seemed to manage herself well enough and was shortly next to him, greeting him with a something akin to a whisper and a faint nod of the head. “Lady Catherine,” he said softly, also granting her a simple greeting. But there wasn’t time for much more than that as they both knelt before the priest, ready to take the next step. To actually be married. He wished he’d had more time to get used to the idea. It had been a rather quick betrothal. A month? Just over? He had lost track of time.

He was going to miss being a carefree, single man of court. He was going to miss the freedom that it meant. And though he had no intention of letting this marriage ruin his good time, he was also aware that marriage meant some added responsibility. Or a lot, depending on how one looked at it. And that didn’t sound particularly promising to him.

Charles probably should have been focusing on what was going on. Instead, he was focused on keeping his expression looking at least moderately pleased. At the very least, emotionless, as though he was paying attention. His uncertainty was far from visible, because he had no desire to look as though he was unhappy with the “honour” that had been bestowed upon him. He wouldn’t complain. He wouldn’t look unhappy. He would play his role well and no one would be the wiser.

So he went through the motions of being married to Catherine Howard. He was aware of her eyes on him at several points, and though he considered turning to meet her gaze, he refrained. What would she see there? How adept would she be at reading him? It was difficult to say. And he didn’t want to run the risk of upsetting her, not here, not now, when there could be a scene. She’d been incredibly offended at his use of the word “suitable”, and he supposed she’d not take well to guessing the marriage bothered him.

They “listened” to mass (he was hardly paying attention), they received communion. And then everyone stood, Charles still just going through the motions. He offered Catherine his arm – she was his wife now, not just Lady Catherine. And no longer a Howard. She was Catherine Brandon, Duchess of Suffolk. His wife. The future mother of his children. It was all rather strange to process. He led her from the chapel, accepting congratulations and greetings as they passed those who had assembled for this momentous occasion. There would be plenty more opportunity to talk afterwards, when everyone assembled and celebrated. Charles hoped he could improve his mood before he got there, so as to keep Catherine from feeling slighted.

[align=center]*****[/align]

There were many people gathered to celebrate his and Catherine’s marriage. This did not surprise him. He knew many people, and many people knew him. And there would be many who would wish to get on Catherine’s good side now, because she had been married to him. He just hoped, not for the first time, that she would not be the sort easily manipulated and played. That could lead to disaster that he didn’t wish to think about. Too, he was concerned about her uncle who would no doubt continue to try and use his influence over her for his own gains, but Charles would deal with that when it came to it.

He found he was accepting many well wishes, some from those he knew and recognized, and others from men and women he knew of, but hadn’t taken a moment to speak with. The marriage of the Duke of Suffolk was certainly an event worth attending. He wouldn’t have minded missing it – but then it wouldn’t have been much of a wedding!

He gave Catherine a small smile as she leaned in, asking him how he was fairing. While it was rare that he had this much attention on him at any one given time, he was still used to attention. Still used to conversing with those of importance and position. So this hardly flustered him at all, save for the nagging feeling that he didn’t really want to be here and married at this given moment. “I am fine, Catherine.” He shifted in his seat a little, feeling as though he wished to get up and move about, walk off some of his pent up unease. “The attention can be daunting, but they’re all here to wish you the best. They will flatter you, and some will be genuine, and others will only seek to warm you to them and their cause. Accept it, offer your thanks, and don’t give it much further consideration.” Not the most heartening of messages, but she needed to understand that there were many here who would seek to use her. And today was the perfect day to make a good impression on her. Because she was happy, and she would remember today.

Absently, Charles settled his hand upon her leg just above her knee, under the table and out of sight. At least she was attractive. He couldn’t help that his thoughts did pass fleetingly over what was in store for that evening. She was no virginal bride – she’d been mistress to the king, for a short time – and yet he still got the impression she would be shy and blushing.

She asked then if she might have someone fetch her some wine, else she could go and get it herself. He shook his head and waved someone over. “My wife would like some wine; please see to it that she gets it promptly. And anything else she wishes.” He paused as the man hurried off to do as he’d been told. Charles then took her hand in his, brought it to his lips and placed a light kiss there. “I will be back shortly, Catherine. If you require anything, you needn’t hesitate to ask.” And then he broke contact with her, stood and moved away from the table. Where he was going, he wasn’t sure, though he was intercepted several times to be offered bland congratulations and some enthusiastic ones as well.

Wasn’t it just joyous? Weren’t weddings such blessings?

Sure, if one had a say in it. Otherwise they were something of an inconvenience, but he was counting himself lucky. He could have been given a lot worse than Catherine Howard. Catherine Brandon now, he reminded himself.

He just needed some air, and a moment or two to think before he returned and played, if only for now, the role of dutiful, happy, new husband.

[size0]((Ooc: OK GUYS! START YOUR POSTING!))]
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Arthur Chamerlyn
Unregistered

Ah, weddings. Perhaps when he'd awoken that morning, the Marquess was a little pleased to know his first wedding wouldn't be his. No, in fact, it would be for his cherished friend Charles Brandon, most recently Duke of Suffolk. Arthur, for the most part, had kept his thoughts silent about the union, moreso pondering the Duke of Norfolk's motivations than just the actual marriage. Whatever it was, though, Arthur made sure he remained by his comrade's side, even so much as the literal extent to make sure the new husband was dressed perfectly for his wedding. He spent the earlier of the morning with Charles, exchanging their jests and humor as if it were any other day. But soon enough time came around and the Duke of Suffolk was to wed the Lady Catherine Howard. Intriguing, at the very least.

He remained by Charles' side until the Duke left for the altar, the very precipice at which this holy sanction would be placed. Arthur soon found his spot amongst the other guests, finding his betrothed and taking her hand whilst the ceremony began. His eyes followed the new bride down the aisle, a soft smile set about his otherwise simple expression. She was a pretty little thing, so very young and naive, but if she had pleased the King, then Arthur had no doubt she could please a Duke. The priest's voice was low but clear, and in due time, the dukedom of Suffolk had found its Duchess. As they passed through the crowd, Arthur raised a hand to pat it firmly against Charles' back, offering him a bright smile and a congratulatory nod. His eyes, though, said something more like I'll see you at the reception, near the wine.

[align=center]******[/align]

Arthur wasn't sure how many congratulations, Your Grace, Her Grace he could hear in one night. It seemed to be incessant, echoing through his skull as the celebrations progressed from the quiet ceremony. He had remained by Anne's side for quite some time, mingling with who they knew and even who they didn't.. ah, weddings. Always brought people together, in some way or form. He offered them all smiles and pleasant conversation, but after awhile he had noticed the newly married Duke of Suffolk separated from his young bride. He breathed a soft sigh as he pried himself from his betrothed and over to the master of appearances.

"What a nice day for a wedding," he commented plainly, hardly bothering to even think about congratulating the Duke. Arthur knew well he'd equally heard enough of it. "Has it hit you yet, Charles? Being married?" He smirked playfully, perhaps assuming his friend wouldn't exactly.. put a stop to the lifestyle that nearly defined the Charles Brandon, and whether it "hit him" or not, Arthur could always count on his friend to be.. well, who he'd always been. In some way or form. "Should I expect anything at the altar?" It was no secret now that a marriage between he and the Anne Parr had been arranged, as in the comforting company of his friend, Arthur felt as if he could speak rather freely.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Anne Parr
Unregistered

She had waltzed into the Great Hall anticipating extravagance, which she only received in spades. It nearly boggled the mind the array of decoration and wealth that presented itself amongst the guests present at the marriage of her dearest friend, the Duke of Suffolk. Candles, ribbons, and an accumulation of flowers dressed the hall in every direction. The ground was peppered in rosemary. In fact, it was almost difficult to even move amongst the masses that arrived to behold such a sight as this. She made her way cautiously through them, wondering exactly how many people the Howards knew, only to take a stand amongst the distinguished guests, letting out somewhat of an exasperated sigh. She had dressed in her very best of gowns for this occasion, glistening in a formation of jewels. Unfortunately, Anne Parr did not know the bride as well as she would have desired, and was resolute in her determination to change this by the evening’s end. Charles Brandon, however, was another matter entirely. Anne was very much aware of his thoughts going into this union, realizing this as she stood and watched as her betrothed, Arthur Chamerlyn, the Marquess of Powis, made his way from the Duke’s side, coming towards her instead. The two of them happened to be close friends with the groom. Again, this allowed her some comfort, knowing that the two of the best men she knew formed an alliance of sorts.

Offering Lord Chamerlyn a smile as he approached her, Anne waited patiently for the ceremony to begin and finish, awaiting the merriment that was to begin later. She wrapped her fingers carefully around those of her companion, her attention moving back to the pair that stood wordlessly at the altar. She wondered what would all come of this as the two exchanged their vows. Catherine Howard was a demure, young bride, promising to give Charles Brandon a family of any size that he desired. It all happened so quickly, however. It seemed as if months had transformed into mere days. Had it truly been that long? Her gaze shifted between the two, finally united amongst the movement of thoughts within Anne’s mind. She smiled graciously at them both as they moved back down into the aisle, in turn closing the elegantly formed ceremony. The merriment would begin here, she was certain, and as was expected. Bring on the wine.

[align=center]~*~[/align]

Anne had occupied the grand majority of her time at the reception conversing. She only envisioned her social circle widening evermore with these new faces that had come upon her. Introductions, curtsies, and whispers of greetings moved around her seamlessly. She had danced, separating herself from Lord Chamerlyn’s side entirely at random. She was pulled away, coerced into discussions about, well, everything. This was what weddings did to people. She found herself in the company of her siblings one moment, only to be wrenched into a dance the next. Nay, it was all never-ending. However, Anne found herself discontented when her silver goblet became empty. She felt Arthur whisper his sudden departure into her ear, offering him a gentle nod, and only watching as he moved across the room to the side of the Duke of Suffolk again. A smirk crossed her lips, the devious kind. The bride was free. The question was, where was the elegant young newlywed?

Walking into a completely opposite direction, Anne’s midnight gaze scanned the crowd, looking for a sign. Catherine Brandon remained seated, alone for a mere second. Alas, Anne carried herself to the other end of the banquet hall, eyes never once leaving the young woman so seated. ”Your Grace,” Anne curtsied deeply before her, her eyes meeting the floor for a mere moment, only to rise again to meet those of the Duchess. ”Allow me to offer my sincerest congratulations to your ladyship on your union. I have not had the opportunity to speak with you, Your Grace. I am hoping that I shall amend that mistake this day. Please grant me the liberty of introducing myself.” She smiled good naturedly, her eyes aglow with the lights surrounding the two of them. ”I am Anne Parr, your humble servant, and a dear friend to your new husband.”
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Catherine Brandon
Unregistered

He did not seem outright joyful, but then she knew men were trained to not show their emotions, lest it give them away. The only man she knew that truly showed his emotions freely was her father...she knew he was here tonight, but Catherine could not make him out in the sea of people dancing and conversing. "I am glad to hear it, Charles." Her eyes widened at his advice about taking the flattery with a simple grain of salt. "People can be like that, then?" She was wondering how many people would actually try to curry favor with her, now that she was the wife of the Duke of Suffolk. Not that she was looking to curry favor with anyone...she was just happy being married to him. "I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am, and how happy you've made me."

Then, she felt something...his hand, on her leg. "What..." a deep blush heated her cheeks. With this, she knew exactly what he was thinking about...the wedding night. Yes, she definitely needed that wine, for she was going to need it. Catherine was afraid that alone, with him, in that way, she would most definitely lose her nerve. "Oh, no, Charles, I don't--" it was too late, for he already told someone to fetch her wine. "Thank you," she murmured, feeling sorry for the man running himself ragged just to please her. A tiny gasp left her lips as he brought her hand up to kiss it, and she frowned. "What...why are you leaving? Where are you going?" He was leaving her here to fend for herself? "He does only find me suitable and he wants to get away from me..." even as the wine was brought to her, she continued to fret.

She took tiny sips of the wine, thankful it was calming her nerves somewhat. "Your Grace." Startled, she looked toward the sound of the voice, and noticed a woman curtsying. "My lady," Catherine nodded, and smiled. The lady offered more congratulations. "I thank you." Introductions were made, and Catherine knew her as Anne Parr. "I have heard of you, Lady Anne, briefly from my husband. I do believe that you are the sister to Lady Katherine, are you not? She is my dear friend. I am almost ashamed we have not met sooner!" She giggled and took a larger sip of her wine. "I am so pleased to meet you. But I am unsure if I want you to be my humble servant. Perhaps if we become more acquainted, I can count you amongst my friends?' A hand swept toward an empty chair near her, and she smiled. "Please sit. Would you care for anything? How are you finding the festivities this evening?" The questions fired off, one right after another, without so much as a pause or even room to breathe. "I do hope everyone is enjoying themselves. His Grace had to leave for a few moments, but he shall return."At least I hope he returns.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Isabel Leigh
Member Avatar
Virtue alone is invincible.
Had Isabel ever been so happy for Catherine? Certainly not. Catherine was getting married to a Duke, a man who would take care of her, and a man who would hopefully make her happy. The eldest sister was so proud of her, and so ecstatic at her good fortune. Little Catherine would now be the Duchess of Suffolk, and a wife, and hopefully soon a mother. Isabel could not help it; tears spilled from her eyes during the beautiful wedding ceremony out of the happiness that filled her soul for her dearest sister and her new husband.

[align=center]---[/align]
The reception was beautiful, every bit and splendorous (at least Isabel thought) as the celebrations following the wedding of Their Majesties. Isabel had lingered behind, for she had helped Catherine prepare that morning and she did not want to hog all of her sister's attention on this day. The redhead found a chalice of cider and hung back on the fringes of the room, smiling and bowing her head at her sister the Duchess and allowing others to speak to her, though the Duke had departed her side for some reason. He certainly must have had something to attend to -- though it was his wedding day. Isabel could only speculate as she sipped her cider.

OOC: Short and crappy, I know, but Isabel is there and... I didn't want to bump off anyone on her behalf. XD
[align=center]Mistress Leigh

Isabel is in 8 threads and can has more!
App | Plot[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Mary Carey
Member Avatar
The English Mare
ooc- Mary needed some sort of interaction. xD

The wedding of Cathrine Howard and Charles Brandon had certainly not been an event Mary had been expecting to be attending. It had come as such a surprise, their engagement, but really, once she thought about it, it had only been a matter of time before her uncle had pulled a couple strings and set one of the Howard girls up as the Duchess of Suffolk. Mary smiled bitterly to herself. At least it was Catherine, rather than Anne. Anyone rather than Anne. If she were to become the Duchess of Suffolk, Mary wasn't sure she would be ever able to pull herself up and out of a pall like that. It seemed so long ago that the two of them had been in France together, she constantly living in the suffocating shadow that was Anne's reputation. It had been so hard to break free from that, and now, with her engagement to William Carey, finally, perhaps she would be able to settle down, and start a family, never again have to worry about Anne overtaking her. That was of course, if she were to forget all about the likes of Henry Percy. For right now though, it would be little Catherine Howard who would receive all the attention.

Mary watched her standing there at the altar, so young and pretty, barely more than a child. She herself had been the same age whilst in France, having her illicit affairs. Catherine too, wasn't all that innocent. She had been known in the past to remain with the king for excess amounts of time, no doubt some sort of ploy to further advance the Howard family into the king's favour. Although they weren't close, nor had associated much in the past, Mary felt for her cousin. This marriage, obviously, was also a ploy. Mary couldn't tell what Catherine thought of the Duke, and was much to far away to read her expression. But, Catherine was young and pretty, and would hopefully prove to be very fertile. The match was a good one, and would benefit the Howards in the long run. For that, and if only that, Mary was glad.

[align=center]***[/align]

The reception, although no surprise, was lavish. There was food and drink, and of course, men. So many people had showed up to wish the Duke and his new wife congratulations, though that wasn't much of a surprise, considering the marriage. It appeared as though every prominent family in England was in attendance, for the room was so crowded, that Mary found herself pushing through groups of people, fighting her way toward her the table in which her cousin was seated, so that she might get a word.

Batting an eye here and there at each handsome young man, Mary finally was able to reach the fringes of the crowd, before realizing that she was still much too far away to make her presence known. At this rate, it would be their anniversary before she even congratulated the new duchess, and thank her for not being Anne. Huffing slightly in annoyance, Mary took a sip of the wine she had manage to snag, and scanned the crowd, hoping that perhaps there would be a young man, willing to escort her back to her chambers and keep her company for awhile. Instead, her gaze landed on that of the bride's sister, Isabel Leigh.

Plastering a smile on her face, she flitted toward her, wine in hand. "Isabel," she said, still smiling, "you must be...proud of your sister." There was little Mary had in common with any of her cousins - save Mary Howard and their affairs with Sir John Shilston - let alone Isabel. "It was such a lovely ceremony; such a wonderful match. A lovelier reception. Mary pointedly took a sip of her wine. "Wouldn't you agree?"
[align=center] [size0]"Whereas one man might satisfy you, I've yet to find one capable of pleasing me to the extent I wish." - Mary

A true blue CISCUIT

Mary is in a grand total of 2 thread(s).
And could have 2 more.


[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Isabel Leigh
Member Avatar
Virtue alone is invincible.
As the redhead enjoyed her cider and her own thoughts, she was pleased to suddenly see her cousin Mary materialize. While Isabel wasn't very close with the Boleyns (There were still some moments when she felt awkward for being a step child, and still not technically related to most of her dear family), she was still all too happy to see any of them. Isabel lowered her chalice of cider, grinning genuinely at her cousin as she spoke to her.

She thought it was odd for Mary to suggest she was proud of Catherine, and not happy for her, but this was court after all. "I am very happy for her, and I hope she and His Grace will be very happy." Isabel replied, the smile still upon her lips. She felt a kind of camaraderie with Mary -- they were both the eldest sisters of their family, after all. She simply nodded in agreement as to the beauty of the ceremony and the reception they attended -- Isabel often feared her marvel at the splendor of court would become dulled if she became accustomed to attending such grand events as this.

"It will not be long before we can celebrate the same at your marriage." The redhead said with a happy smile. "I am sure that you will be as beautiful a bride as my sister. Is Sir Carey attending the revelries?" She was curious as to the man who would soon marry her cousin and, in effect, become a part of the family, and she was happy for her cousin at gaining a husband. So many women were getting married! It was a marvel.
[align=center]Mistress Leigh

Isabel is in 8 threads and can has more!
App | Plot[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Edmund Howard
Unregistered

Edmund had not slept well that night. Instead he tossed and turned, and gave his own poor wife a stir. Caty, their youngest girl, their jewel, was getting married, and it all seemed too soon. Should not the older children all be given away before she was? And yet, even as parents, Joyce and Edmund had no say in the matter. They had been circumvented by the Duke of Norfolk, Edmund’s overreaching brother. True, the marriage was beneficial, it was a far better match than Edmund could ever provide to Catherine. The Duke of Suffolk was wealthy and powerful, and Catherine was overwhelmingly happy about being his wife, the Duchess of Suffolk. Who would have thought she’d venture thus far? Still, Edmund was nervous, in spite of, or maybe because he had his conversation with Charles Brandon. Something bothered him about the groom. He didn’t think Catherine would be downright miserable in the relationship, very much not so, he concluded that Suffolk was honourable and bent on giving his wife joy. Alas, something seemed wrong inside the man. But perhaps Edmund was overly concerned. He himself had been anxious about marrying Joyce, but all worked out well and now the Howards were easily one of the happiest couples ever matched. The father could only hope the same would be allotted to his daughter.

The morrow was a frantic affair. Edmund’s nerves did not abandon him for a minute. His appetite was scarce, and he had troubles dressing himself. The garments were of course the very best, yet he stubbornly stuck to satin instead of silk. Even then, the garb fitted strangely, although it was bespoke, straying not an inch from the lord’s measure. Although his preparations were small compared to Caty’s or the Duke’s, Edmund was restless and discomfited most of the time. He wished to go to his daughter, and was prevented in that by her attendants – his other children – and even by Joyce herself. He thought several times about visiting the groom instead, but each time he realized it wasn’t good. What could he do? What would he say to the Duke? They’ve had their talk already, and all Edmund might settle onto would just unsettle Charles. The last thing in the world he wanted was to somehow make the day harder than it already was. Giving a daughter away as a bride was supposed to be father’s greatest happiness. Why then was his stomach knotted?

When the time had come, Edmund went with Joyce to the church. It was not the cathedral in London, but the king’s very own chapel. Edmund himself had mixed feelings about this, although he understood this was the sign if His Majesty’s favour, the good graces he planted on his friend Suffolk, which were now to stretch also to the good duke’s wife. This should please Edmund, but he was never the one appreciative for politics. However, as soon as he had crossed the threshold, Lord Howard’s spirit was uplifted by the beauteous sight of lavish decoration and the great choir of boys appointed to take part in the ceremony. The priest was no less than a bishop and the pews were bursting with guests of honour, ladies and lords alike. Caty would be pleased, and so was he for her.

When he eventually saw her, Edmund could hardly believe this was the same little girl. Draped in her great bridal gown, he could swear Caty radiated some heavenly light. She was an angel send from above, most beautiful, pristine and innocent. It gave him great pride to lead her down the aisle, and all the way he grinned like an insane man, too content to worry about a misstep or a stumble, In the end he delivered the bride to her groom without a mishap, and returned to the front isle, where he watched his daughter take vows of marriage, holding Joyce’s hand all that time. At many points he was on the verge of crying out loudly, yet, thankfully, he held his ground admirably. But, inside, Edmund cried like a baby. His teeming emotions made him overlook the rather stiff expression on Charles Brandon’s face.

[align=center]* * *[/align]

The Great Hall was a cluster of flowers, ribbons, and all other sorts of decoration. Although he was very willing to rush to Caty and congratulate her, Edmund stayed behind and kept Joyce faithful company. He gladly settled at a farther end of the hall, despite being fully entitled to a seat near the newly wed. Caty, the Duchess of Suffolk now, was being hailed as Her Grace by so many people, it looked almost untoward. But she seemed happy enough, ad that warmed her father’s heart. As for enjoying the festivity, he was completely satisfied with being close to Joyce, and letting others mingle and be sociable. At a right moment he would suggest to Joyce that they should come and give her daughter and the duke the proper regards. For now, he filled his stomach, which calmed down enough to finally accept sustenance.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
George Boleyn
Unregistered

George Boleyn was red faced and bitter. Today, his little cousin was to be made Duchess of Suffolk, and George was obligated to sit through the ceremony. He would have found some excuse, perhaps claim an illness had struck him, but his wife insisted they attend to support Catherine Howard. Jane Boleyn was a woman of few friends, as George was aware, so what little alliances she had, she was careful to keep. For whatever reason, Catherine was fond of his unpleasant wife. Jane too seemed affectionate towards little Kitty, though he debated whether she was sincere in her feelings. Now that she was to be married to Charles Brandon, it seemed her friendship was even more invaluable to Jane.

Like any married couple, they arrived together and sat down besides one another. George was desperate for a glass of wine during the ceremony, but numbing one's jealousy with alcohol seemed distasteful in a place of worship. George did not want to seem envious or upset in any way. It was not Catherine's fault she was young and beautiful. She was bound to attract someone at some point, and knowing his Uncle, their rank in court would be high.

Their Uncle was an ambitious sort, the only thing he and George shared in common. Although, George was shocked at how he managed to secure such a valuable marriage and alliance. It was no secret among the Howard family that Kitty had been used as a tool to secure his Uncle's position with the King. The young girl was, for a time, the King's mistress. It seemed her actions paid off, for there she stood at the altar, ready to take her place as the Duchess of Suffolk. Despite himself, George felt a rush of pride. She was his cousin, almost like a sister to him. He felt honored to watch her take her place as a newly wed woman. Of course, he would be jealous of her elevated position, but he was proud of this accomplishment for the family name.

***

The ceremony now over, George found himself merry on wine at the banquet. Couples twirled around him, courtiers mingled and people paid their respects to Catherine and Charles. Drunk and feeling generous, George made his way through the crowd towards his cousin. Others lined up to approach the couple, now missing Charles, but it was George whose face appeared to the front. The young girl now chatted with Anne Parr, the sister of his friend William and a young woman he had engaged in snowy warfare. "Lady Catherine Brandon," George cried, slightly drunk. "You look radiant Cousin, as do you Lady Parr," George bowed before the women, teetering slightly, but managing to hold himself up. "By God, you are a Duchess! It is almost too much to bear!" George laughed loudly, calling for more wine.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ralph Leigh II
Unregistered

While Rafe wasn't as close to his half-sister as he might have been to his full-blooded sister, Isabel, he certainly did love Catherine. As any elder brother, he felt the need to ensure that she was taken care of and would be furthermore, once she was out of the hands of their family and passed on to her new husband. He was proud of the fact that she was being married off to a Duke, of all things. But she was a Howard, the niece of the Duke of Norfolk, and a beautiful young woman at that.

Rafe had arrived as soon as he could, taking the time to prepare himself for the wedding. His own garments, as the eldest brother to the bride, were some of the best he could manage to conjure on his own wealth. He did, after all, want to look his best for his sister's wedding.

He had spent the vast majority of the day both trying to keep Edmund reigned in to some extent and trying to avoid him as much as possible. It was a careful balancing act that he was committed to, but by the time the wedding was in full swing, he was fairly certain he was going to lose his mind from it all. He was nervous for his younger sister, it was true, and yet, at the same time, he was happy for her. She couldn't have asked for a much grander suiting than the one that had fallen into her dainty little lap.

And so, it was with pride and honor that he watched the ceremony between the two, staying close at his sibling's sides with eyes only for his younger sister at the altar. She was a sight of beauty and he regretted the fact that she would be married away for a moment, but he knew the selfishness of that wish. Catherine would be happy as she could be and the Duke of Suffolk seemed intent on carrying this arrangement out. It was with his best wishes and only love for his sister that he sat through the duration of holy mass and watched as the Lady Catherine Howard became Duchess Catherine Brandon.

[align=center]***********[/align]

As sad as it was, Rafe was rather glad to be rid of Edmund during the ceremony. His mother had taken her husband on her hands and, as a result, Rafe was left free to address the matter of congratulating his sister and her new husband. As horrid as it was to say, even for himself, Rafe had to admit that having a brother-in-law who was a Duke was quite honestly thrilling. He wasn't sure if there would come to be any sort of relationship between Brandon and he, but he would certainly do everything in his power to see to it that Charles Brandon felt welcome in his presence.

He was positioned behind George Boleyn who was making an assured fool of himself in front of all at the wedding celebrations. He had to grit his teeth past the urge to wallop him over the head for embarrassing Catherine in such a way, but settled for clearing his throat from behind the man before he tottered off to find more wine. Rafe would deal with him momentarily. By that time, Charles Brandon had excused himself from the festivities for the moment, but that suited him fine enough. His words for his sister, after all, were quite heartfelt.

He smiled as he approached. "Duchess Catherine Brandon, ever the picture of beauty, my sister," he said, trying to get used to the title on the tip of his tongue. "It did me proud to see you today as it always will. Congratulations, Dear Sister. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a cousin of mine that I feel should be taken care of," and with that, he followed up with George Boleyn. He was drunk enough now not to bother trying to sober him up. Perhaps if Rafe assured that his cousin's cups wouldn't be empty, he'd be forced to retire early.

"George Boleyn, Cousin. It is good to see you again. Might I see if I can't find us both something to drink then?" he asked. Though his words were pleasant enough, the message was clear, 'I'm keeping a close eye on you and you'd better not do anything to screw this up'. If it wasn't Edmund that he had to play keeper to, it was another family member, it seemed.
Quote Post Goto Top
 
Mary Carey
Member Avatar
The English Mare
Isabel, as Mary quickly came to realize, was far more pleased to see her than the eldest Boleyn girl would have thought. The grin she had plastered on her face was far more sincere than that of Mary's and twice as big. It was quite obvious that she was genuinely delighted to see her cousin. The smile remained as she agreed that yes, she was quite happy for her sister. Then again, who wouldn't be happy for the wife of the Duke of Suffolk? "Yes, well, it's a very good match. I too hope they will be happy." Who cared if they were happy? His Grace was rich nearly beyond compare, a close friend of the king's and a very respectable man, from what Mary understood. Any woman would be lucky to marry someone like that.

She took another sip of her wine, and listen to her cousin drone on about her betrothal to Sir William Carey. He too was a respectable man, and a close friend of the king's. But William Carey was not a rich man. He was a knight; a courtier. Nothing of tremendous importance, therefore not terribly rich. Mary usually didn't mind status or position. The majority of her relationships lasted little more than a night or two, and the occasion when she become a mistress, but that wasn't marriage. She didn't have to remain with those men forever. William Carey was to be her husband, with whom she shared a bed night after night, and produced his heirs. Although a life that she wanted, Mary wasn't entirely sure if she wanted it with Sir William.

"No," she replied finally, "no, Sir William is spending this Christmastide in Essex, visiting his brother, Sir John Carey and his wife, Joyce. I have not spoken with him recently, but I do hope he is enjoying himself." Mary took another sip her her wine, and flashed Isabel another smile. "I thank you though, cousin, for your kind words surrounding the matter. They are much appreciated."
[align=center] [size0]"Whereas one man might satisfy you, I've yet to find one capable of pleasing me to the extent I wish." - Mary

A true blue CISCUIT

Mary is in a grand total of 2 thread(s).
And could have 2 more.


[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Isabel Leigh
Member Avatar
Virtue alone is invincible.
Listening with interest, Isabel nodded as Mary spoke. How funny that her cousin would have a mother-in-law with the same name as Isabel's own mother! The redhead sincerely hoped her cousin would be happy. She did not know much about Mary's life, and even less now that she was at court with her, but anything that had been heard was nothing good. Isabel sincerely wished her cousin happiness, for everyone deserved happiness. Mary certainly was exception, and she certainly was a lovely lady, despite what anyone said.

She took a sip of cider, smiling against the chalice as she swallowed. The sweet taste of the drink made the redhead's tongue curl with delight, and when she had swallowed, her lips opened in a teeth baring grin as her cousin thanked her. "They are much deserved." She replied earnestly, setting her chalice down. "But since you lack your betrothed, and I lack anything else, we should find some handsome men to dance with, for it is Catherine's wedding day and we must make merry!" The redhead grinned most widely, and she saw her father lurking elsewhere in the room. "I think I should ask my father if he would dance -- who would you ask, dear cousin?"
[align=center]Mistress Leigh

Isabel is in 8 threads and can has more!
App | Plot[/align]
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Catherine Brandon
Unregistered

While talking with the Lady Anne, her eyes scanned the room for her family. She couldn't find any of her siblings, her cousins, or her parents. Catherine couldn't even find her new husband. She wondered what was keeping Charles so long; duties, perhaps. At his own wedding? Rather strange, but he was the Duke of Suffolk, and his duties never slept. For now, she was content to partake of the wine and the good conversation, and greet the well-wishers who paused to give their congratulations. "I thank you so much," she beamed at them, and continued to eat, drink, and make as merry as she possibly could. Before too long, she saw the first member of her family this evening...her cousin, George. "George!" she exclaimed. "How good to see you here! I trust you are enjoying yourself..." Her good cheer was interrupted by his drunken and boorish behavior. "Y-yes..." her face fell and her eyes watered over, just a bit. Why was he behaving as such? And when she thought things were well between them. "I..."

Thankfully, a man behind him cleared his throat, and George stepped aside to admit another familiar face, her half-brother, Ralph, whom was pretty much her father for the time she was at home, before she went to Lambeth. "Dear brother," she said, inclining her head. "I am so pleased that I could do you so proud. As always, I wish to please my family. If you see any more of my family, tell them I do so wish to see them, converse with them, and make merry." Ralph excused himself to take care of their mutual cousin, and internally, she breathed a sigh of relief. If there was something she did not want, it was people, her family, no less, embarrassing her at her own wedding. It might take her a while before she ever endeavored to speak to George again. And now she did not have to, if she so wished.

Quote Post Goto Top
 
Charles Brandon
Unregistered

Everything was a whirlwind of noise. There were so many people – but that wasn’t a surprise – who’d decided to come and celebrate the Duke’s marriage to the young Catherine Brandon. It was finally starting to sink in, although he was hardly accustomed to the idea. Everything had happened so quickly, as though there was some fear that the union wouldn’t happen if it didn’t move with a determined sort of speed. But, he told himself again (and again), it could have been a whole lot worse. Catherine was determined to be a good wife, and he didn’t doubt she was capable of it. He’d come to terms with it all eventually, and in the mean time, he ought to stop moping and just take it for what it was. There were plenty of benefits to having a wife. Yes, he’d keep reminding himself of the benefits. That seemed the best way to go about it. He received a goblet of wine from a passing servant – a welcome distraction, something to set his focus to – but was in no real rush to finish it. He rather enjoyed wine, but didn’t wish to drink too much and run the risk of saying, or doing, something stupid. He didn’t wish to embarrass his new wife. Or himself.

"What a nice day for a wedding. Has it hit you yet, Charles? Being married?"

“Arthur,” Charles replied in greeting, nodding in acknowledgement. “Hit me? Hardly. I doubt it’ll be much longer before I’ll be forced to accept it, however.” His voice was low so as not to be overheard by his other guests – lest they think him particularly displeased with Catherine and it get back to her that he was unhappy. Though he did smile, feeling his mood improve some at the sight of his friend. Yes, this wasn’t such a dismal thing. A bit of an inconvenience, but it couldn’t be helped. He was going to have to marry eventually anyway, why not now?

"Should I expect anything at the altar?"

“I think your venture to the altar will differ from mine.” He paused, smiling good-naturedly. “In a great many ways.” He didn’t want to complain. Particularly not here. It was all well and good to be displeased in his head, but nothing would be solved from voicing his frustrations. He was not cruel, he did not wish to see Catherine shamed in any way, especially not here and today. He didn’t want anyone too suspicious that he was less than thrilled with being married, because it wasn’t her, truly. It was the idea of it all. The restrictions it was supposed to put on him (although he hated restrictions, and so he would fight them). “I probably shouldn’t have left her on her own,” he said, nodding towards his new wife across the room, “but I needed some space.”

At least she wasn’t alone. Anne Parr had approached and it seemed that she and Catherine were getting on well enough. At least, he hoped so. He’d hate to have his friend and his wife at odds, because he wouldn’t want to take sides. He wasn’t a coward, he would pick a side, but he’d rather avoid the need. “Hopefully Catherine and Anne get along well,” he mused. “I cannot think why they would not, but stranger things have happened.” Court was, indeed, a strange place. He continued to keep an eye out for Catherine, curious who approached her, who she made conversation with. Her cousin, the trouble-making (albeit amusing, at times) George Boleyn also approached to speak to her, but even from a distance Charles was under the suspicion that the man had already had too much to drink.

He might have attempted to save her that small embarrassment, a drunken George Boleyn was probably enough to mortify her, but it seemed her half brother came to her rescue. It seemed that she was in good enough hands. Charles turned his attention away, back to Arthur who’s company he was most appreciative for. “We should look as though we’re discussing some great matter,” he said with a laugh, emptying his glass of the wine. “Then perhaps the well-wishers will keep their distance, for a while.” He accepted a second goblet, though intended to stop after that one, at least for a while. He knew his tolerance for the drink, and intended not to pass it, even if that would make the current hours far more tolerable. He liked a good social event, and he liked the attention of whatever group he decided to participate, but this was a different sort of attention he wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

[size0]((Mrg. Sorry it’s rambly and not particularly concise. Still trying to get my muse back!! XD))
Quote Post Goto Top
 
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Join the millions that use us for their forum communities. Create your own forum today.
« Previous Topic · Winter 1511/1512 · Next Topic »
Add Reply