Her Highness, the Traitor - By Susan Higginbotham Page 0,139
liked—nay, a man whom I had even imagined in my bed. Even as I flushed at the memory, I realized a woman could do far, far worse than to share her life with such a man.
I knelt and prayed once more. This time when I arose off my knees, I felt I had received a heavenly answer at last. Or at least, I hoped it was a heavenly one, and not my own desire speaking.
***
Master Stokes stood before me in the chamber where I conducted my business. Beside me, silent for once, stood my stepmother. I had asked her to be with me lest I lose my nerve. Besides, if Master Stokes refused, at least he would not have the ill manners to laugh in front of a third person.
“I have called you here to ask you to do me a great favor, Master Stokes,” I faltered.
“Ask it, Frances,” Katherine hissed.
“I want you to marry me,” I blurted.
“Your Grace?”
“That’s what she’s asking,” Katherine said. “She—”
“I can speak for myself,” I said. I looked pleadingly up into Master Stokes’s fine blue eyes and saw astonishment, but not unfriendliness, in them. “I fear that the queen will force me to remarry someone I do not care for, even someone who might use Harry’s treason as an excuse to treat me unkindly. I would much rather be married to someone I trust and respect and like, and that person is you.”
“Your Grace, you must know you could do much better. I am merely a gentleman’s son.”
“I know I could be truly miserable. And there is another reason I want to marry you. No one will ever try to put Mistress Stokes, or her children, upon the throne. I want no part of any more such schemes. Please, Master Stokes. You will be doing me the greatest of kindnesses.”
“In that case, I will be pleased to marry you, Your Grace.”
“Frances.”
“Frances,” Adrian agreed. He stepped closer to me.
I drew back. “But there is something else. Two things. I would like to delay consummating the marriage. I am still mourning my husband.”
“And if she quickened with child so soon,” Katherine put in, “the babe might be thought to be the duke’s.”
“Yes, that’s reasonable. The other thing?” Adrian asked quietly.
“Some will say that I married for lust, or to spite Harry’s memory. I do not want to hear such unkind comments. For that reason, I would like to keep our marriage secret for now. Will you agree?”
“Yes.” He hesitated. “Let me speak to you alone for a moment, Your—Frances.”
Katherine obediently exited the room.
Adrian looked at me, his blue eyes grave. “Are you sure about this, Frances? I have little love for Queen Mary, but I do not honestly believe she would force you into a marriage with someone you disliked. Nor do I believe that after this latest rebellion that anyone would attempt to seize the throne through you. I am honored to be your choice, but there may be no need to take such a drastic step as you are thinking of taking.”
“I would prefer not to risk it. Besides, there is another reason, which I could not admit to in front of Katherine.” I swallowed. “She did very well on her own after my father’s death. I am not like her. The thought of managing in this world all alone terrifies me. I know that makes me a foolish creature, but that is what I am.”
“I do not think you do yourself justice. But do you believe you would be happier if you were married?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Then may I kiss my future bride?”
I nodded. Gently, Adrian put his lips to mine. “I’ll take good care of you, Frances,” he said, patting my cheek. “Just as I promised your husband.”
***
Two days later, on March 9, Katherine and my two most trusted ladies rode to Katherine’s house at Kew, accompanied by Adrian in his usual position as my master of horse. No one could have guessed that we were a wedding party.
Katherine had a priest—one who would soon be going into exile abroad—waiting for us. As Katherine, Master Bertie, my ladies, and Adrian’s younger brother William looked on as witnesses, we said our vows, Adrian in a firm voice, mine slightly shaking.
Afterward, we had a small celebration—very small, lest those in Katherine’s household not in the secret suspect something odd. Then we rode back to Sheen as if this had been nothing more than a social visit to my stepmother. Adrian looked at me a little wistfully