him! The trunk-hose were of white satin worked with silver; he wore a collar of gold, diamond studded, and at his knee was the Garter which had been bestowed on him as soon as he arrived in England.
We took our seats in the two chairs which had been placed at the altar. Gardiner was waiting—with Bonner, the Bishop of London, and the Bishops of Durham, Lincoln, Ely and Chichester.
Before the ceremony began, the Regent of Naples declared to the assembly that his Imperial Master, Charles V, had resigned from his kingdom of Naples that his beloved cousin Queen Mary might marry a king.
Then we were married and when the ceremony was over seated ourselves in the chairs of state while the Mass was celebrated.
EVERY DETAIL OF THAT wonderful day stays with me. My memories comfort me when I am most melancholy. I want to keep that day fresh in my mind, for I was never so happy as I was then.
We went back to the Bishop's palace for a banquet. I do not remember what we ate. Philip and I sat side by side. I took covert glances at him, which was foolish of me because I should have known I would be closely watched and everything I did would be reported later. I did wish that my subjects would not be quite so zealous in stressing the point that I was the Queen of this realm and, important as Philip might be in his own country, here he was merely the Queen's consort. Why did they have to make his chair less fine than mine? Why should he be served from silver plate and I from gold? I was fully aware of the cold looks of the Spaniards as they noticed these details.
But I would not let that spoil my pleasure.
When the toasts and expressions of good will toward us were over, Philip and I drank one to the guests; and after that we went to our presence chamber so that the English and Spanish might mingle. Language presented a problem. There was dancing but the Spanish ways were different from ours. I remembered how my father had distinguished himself as the finest of dancers because he could leap higher than anyone else. The Spaniards walked in stately fashion rather than danced, and we English did not call that dancing. I think they were a little taken aback by our cavorting and pirouetting. I had always been fond of dancing and was able somehow to match my steps to Philip's. I have to admit that, stately though he was, he was no great dancer. But I loved him the more for this failing.
The festivities ended earlier than we had expected because of these differences in our speech and customs, and Philip and I were escorted to our separate apartments, where we dined. Afterward we met at the lodging where we were to spend our wedding night. We were taken there by members of the Council, and when they had conducted us to our bedchamber, they left us.
So we were alone together. I was apprehensive, lest I should not please my husband; if I did not, he did not betray it. Never had I imagined such kindness and courtesy. I was ignorant of the ways of married people and had only shadowy notions of what was expected of me. Philip, I knew, was greatly experienced in these matters. He had been married before, and was already a father. But I was as romantic as a young girl. I had lived with dreams.
I thought a great deal about our first encounter later, when he had gone. I wondered what was in his mind. One would never know with Philip. But I shall always remember his kindness to me, his patience with my ignorance.
And I was able to say to myself on that night: This is love.
WHEN I AWOKE NEXT MORNING, IT WAS TO FIND THAT HE was no longer beside me. There was a great commotion outside the door. My women were talking loudly, protesting.
I rose and went out to them.
Several Spanish gentlemen of Philip's entourage were standing there, being held at bay by my valiant ladies. They were trying to explain that it was a breach of etiquette to call on a lady the morning after her wedding.
I said, “I daresay it is a Spanish custom.” I would ask Philip when I saw him.
I could not imagine where he could be. I wondered if I might ask him what induced