Chapter 22
I must retrace my steps and explain how it happened that when my stepfather was ready to bind me into an unwelcome match, I was already legally sworn to a more welcome one.
After I’d begun receiving the letters from my mother this winter, I had sought out Colby at Hatfield, cornering him alone in the gardens one late January afternoon.
He’d been speaking of Sir Christopher’s plans and our part in them when I’d grasped his sleeve and said, “James, you would do me a very great favor if you would marry me.”
Colby had stilled, his red brows climbing slightly higher on his forehead, his only reaction. “Marry …”
“Yes, right away, please. I would be in your debt.”
Colby regarded me for a few moments while chill winter wind whipped at my hood and threatened to dislodge it.
“May we wait?” he’d asked after a time. “Elizabeth will be on the throne sooner than we think, and I need you where you are now. After that …”
“No, James, it must be now.” I told him in rapid words about my mother’s letters and my fear she’d marry me off.
“My stepfather will do it—I know he is making her write the letters. If I marry where they choose, I will have to leave Elizabeth, and you would certainly lose my help. I will have nothing to do but sit in a house saying rosaries all the long day. Please, James.”
He watched me with his pale blue eyes, taking in every hurried word.
“Are you certain?” he asked quietly. “Considering what you know about me? I can think of several gentlemen who are above suspicion I could convince to take you. You could continue your work that way, and Elizabeth would keep you at her side.”
“No.” My answer was adamant. “Of all the gentlemen of my acquaintance, I can only envision myself married to you. That is why I asked you.”
Colby looked away from me, across the green to the woods beyond the village, where Elizabeth sometimes rode out to hunt.
“This is not what I wanted,” he muttered.
I’d come to this interview prepared to make a businesslike arrangement with James—if he married me, I would somehow make it worth his while, perhaps use my influence with Elizabeth to bring him money and position.
Also, I’d assure him I’d do everything in my power to make certain his secret stayed buried.
Nothing, however, prepared me for the stab of hurt at his words. Prickles of heat spread across my face, and my palms grew cold.
I should respond, to say that it did not matter, and ask him about these other gentlemen he had in mind. But I could not speak.
Colby turned back to me, a half-smile touching his mouth. “I wanted it to be so grand, Eloise. I planned to wait until Elizabeth gained her throne—she has promised me a position in her government as well as a baronetcy. I wished to offer you so much more than a hasty wedding to a nobody.”
My hurt evaporated into confusion. “Why?” I asked, my mouth stiff.
Colby’s smile remained in place. “Someday I will explain it to you, but the garden behind Hatfield is not the place.” He let out a breath. “Never mind. I will fix it, we will marry, and I will hand you heaven and earth later.”
I stared at him in shock, almost afraid to understand. “Are you in love with me?”
I truly wanted to know, as I had no experience with men in love, at least not men in love with me.
James turned his smile upon me full force, and I had to move back a step, so little could I take the promise of happiness he was sending me.
“That is another of those things we will discuss later,” he said. “What is your full Christian name?”
At this moment, I barely recalled it. “Eloise Alice Rousell.”
“Eloise Alice.” Colby nodded. “I will find a priest we can trust.”
My throat went suddenly dry. In the space of a few short sentences, I was betrothed.
“You will make certain it is a legal marriage?” I asked worriedly. “Something not even Mary could put asunder?”
James’s grim, businesslike manner returned. “If I take a wife, it will be legal and binding. You leave it to me. Will you tell the princess?”
I hesitated, glancing at the windows of Hatfield from which no doubt someone watched us. “Not yet. I think the fewer who know of this right away, the better.”
“I agree,” Colby said. “Very well, I will find a priest who will keep it from both Mary and Elizabeth.” He paused and sent me a long look I could not decipher. “When we are wed, even if none know it but us, I shall want to be your husband in all ways. Do you understand me?”
I flushed, my heart beating faster. “You mean, in the bedchamber?”
“Aye. Will this change your mind?”
My flush deepened, but not from embarrassment. “Decidedly not.”
“Good.” Colby touched my cheek, so briefly that anyone watching might miss it. “I am pleased to wed someone with whom I am in complete rapport. Thank you for asking me, Eloise.”
He teased me. I smiled back at him to show I did not mind.
Colby had arranged for the banns to be read three Sundays running in a little church in Bedfordshire, just over the border from Hertfordshire.
Four weeks after our agreement, I met him in that little church, where we were married.
Colby had paid the priest there handsomely to register the marriage but stay quiet about it.
We’d ridden back to Hatfield separately.
The household had assumed we’d been away on errands for Elizabeth, as she went about fortifying her estates while pretending not to.
Aunt Kat and Uncle John were too busy to pay attention to my comings and goings, and so no one was the wiser at my change in state.
Colby and I had arranged to meet later in secret to begin our married life.
We chose an inn along a road leading west toward Ashridge, one in which none of Elizabeth’s people currently stayed.
The wind chilled me as I rode to meet my new husband, my cloak hardly enough to keep out the late February cold.
Hatfield had been in an uproar when I’d departed, because Henri of France had written via his ambassador that Elizabeth should give up on her plans for now. The French king advised Elizabeth to remain quiet and take the long view—in other words, France was pulling back from paying for the uprising.
Messages flew to and from Hatfield, and in the midst of it I had left alone, wondering if Colby would be able to keep our appointment.
Elizabeth’s ladies and servants had stayed often enough at this inn whenever we traveled from Hatfield to Ashridge that the landlord and his wife knew me. Assuming I was on business for Elizabeth, the landlord’s wife let me hire a private parlor without fuss.
I discarded my cloak after I closed the door and warmed myself by the fire, worried that Colby would not come.
The day we’d married Colby had not said much to me, had barely even glanced at me. Since then, he’d been busy carrying messages or closeting himself with those who were secretly shoring up Elizabeth’s manor houses.
Such things were far more important than meeting with a new wife, I surmised. Not an auspicious beginning to our marriage, but I supposed it was my own fault for rushing him into it.
I paced the floor as the sun dipped below the horizon. I’d have to stay the night here if it grew too dark, and I busily began inventing stories to explain my absence to Elizabeth and Aunt Kat.
I never heard his step, but suddenly Colby was there. The chamber door closed and he stepped behind me, warm hands on my waist.
“Did any follow you?” he asked.
“No. I did as you instructed.”
Colby turned me to face him. I thought he would begin speaking, probably about what he’d been doing for Elizabeth, but instead he kissed me.
This kiss was different from the brief brushes of mouths we’d been enjoying whenever we met in private. He kissed me with a man’s kiss, with the taste of passion I’d never been privy to before this.
Strange to feel the roughness of his unshaved whiskers against my lips, his strong mouth on mine. I wrapped my arms around him, and Colby held me tightly in return as the savoring kiss went on.
The ghost of Thomas Seymour and his rough games rose in the back of my mind, before fading into quiet oblivion. Seymour had been oppressive and demanding, but Colby wanted me, Eloise. He saw me as a woman for whom he had affection, not a female to conquer.
For a long time we held each other, enjoying each other’s warmth.
“What do we do?” I asked him softly.
A hint of Colby’s smile flashed across his face. “Whatever we can.”
The little chamber was cold, but the bed had been piled high with comforters and warmed with a hot brick wrapped in cloths. James helped me undress then lifted the covers so I could burrow into the bed.
His doublet and shirt came off quickly, and soon the heat of his body warmed the little nest I’d begun. He pulled the covers over us and for a moment, the newlywed couple simply lay together under the weight of the blankets, shivering.
Colby’s hands found my skin, which he touched with utmost gentleness, raising his body a little to support the tent of blankets over us. I relaxed beneath him in the dark while he caressed me.
The feelings he engendered in me were strange but not unwelcome. My body lifted of its own accord, liking his warmth.
Colby heated my mouth with a kiss as he slid himself over me, and then he changed me from girl to woman in truth.
“Are you well, love?” he murmured when it was over.
For the first time in my life, I had no words. I nodded mutely, my wanton hands traveling his body. This was a beautiful man, my husband, and God had given him to me to enjoy.
Colby continued to kiss me, his warm weight covering me better than any quilt. We drowsed together, then he began the dance with me again.
The wooden bedstead creaked, the headboard bumping the wall. Patches of dislodged whitewash floated down to scatter like snow in Colby’s hair. That made me laugh, and he opened his eyes, his smile like summer sunshine.
“Do I amuse you?” he demanded.
“Yes.” I started to laugh.
His eyes widened in the faint firelight. “Dare you mock your husband?”
“Yes,” I repeated and grinned broadly. “I dare.”
Colby punished me by loving me so well I could laugh no longer. The little bed scraped across the floor, and at one time I heard an ominous snap, but nothing collapsed.