Page 89 of Eloise and the Queen
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.
