Forty-six

                                    

                                          
England barely recovered from the news of Catherine's death, now they were in mourning again as the young Duke of Richmond had finally succumbed to the sickness that had bound the young Duke to his bed for weeks, his young widow had also passed away from childbirth along with their son. 
Henry was a complete emotional wreck, he had ordered that Charles, Anna and Henry be moved to Hatfield, Elizabeth and little George was sent to Hever in case the sickness that claimed the life of their half-brother took their lives as well. 
He took no chances with the health of his sons and daughters, even if two of them were illegitimate, ever since hearing of Fitzroy's death; Henry's night had been plagued of visions of the Tudor line coming to an end as the crown was being ripped from Charles's dead fingers. 
The shock of Henry Fitzroy dying just a month after his seventeenth birthday reinforced Henry's need to secure the Tudor bloodline, though he was blessed with two sons that would take the throne after his death, the dark thought of history repeating itself still haunted Henry to this day. 
The death of Prince Arthur plagued his mind whenever his Princes had a slight cough. 
It was sad to see the nursery so bare, there were no sound of their children laughter filling the halls of Hampton Court, it felt so cold and lonely to Isabella to not have her children within arms reach.
Isabella distracted herself from the loneliness that she felt with embroidery, overlooking the household documents with Cromwell and the Royal treasurer to allocate the needed funds for the poor and spending time with the nobles that were in loyal to her. 
It was here that her sister, Lucrezia Butler, bolted into the Queen's chambers, making Isabella's heart leapt into her throat as she stood to her feet. 
"Lucrezia?" Isabella spoke, trying to control her rapid heartbeat. "What is the meaning of this?" 
Had something happened to her father? As he came down with a sudden cough, he could not shake. Was it one of her children? Surely, Henry would have come to her if one of their children fell ill... Was it something to do with Lucrezia's own family? Maybe Anne.... 
"I come with news, from Belford House." Lucrezia stated, it was her Lord husband that was with the King when the messenger arrived to speak with Henry, though the King turned the messenger away as he did not care for news on Jane's bastard. 
Lucrezia knew this was something that Isabella needed to be aware of, as Lucrezia did not trust the King to inform the Queen in case of causing harm to the child in Isabella's womb. 
The room immediately fell quiet as the news sunk in, all eyes fell onto Isabella, who just sat back into her chair beside the dying fire, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. 
"So, it begins," She whispered to no one in particular, a hand resting on her own pregnant belly, Isabella had known this day was to arrive and she had dreaded it; a part of her even feared her own reaction when this day would come. 
Lucrezia nodded, taking the offered seat by Lady Clarice near her sister and Queen knowing such news would not be easy to hear, even if Henry had not acknowledged the child as his; the thought of someone other than herself or Anne birthing his children hurt. 
Isabella knew Henry's attention was a fickle thing, though he was being more discreet and no official Mistress had been declared but Lucrezia and Isabella knew the King's eyes wandered through the Queen's ladies, even when both Anne and Isabella turned a blind eye to it. 
John Butler relayed information from Baron Belford that Jane was still adamant that the King would wish to see her and their son, twice he had to confined her to the Baroness's chambers as she tried to sneak away to God only knows where, apparently, Jane Belford né Seymour was not adjusting well to married life.