‘Mayhap it were wiser left undone,’ said Esclairmonde. ‘My mind misgives me that this meeting is planned to bring us into trouble. Farewell, my lord.’
As she had apprehended, the door was flung back, and Countess Jaqueline rushed in, clasping her hands in an affectation of merry surprise, as she cried, ‘Here they are! See, Monseigneur! No keeping doves apart!’
‘Madame,’ said Esclairmonde, turning on her with cold dignity, ‘I have been thanking Monsieur de Glenuskie for having resigned the suit that I always declared to be in vain.’
‘You misunderstood, Clairette,’ said Jaqueline. ‘No gentleman ever so spoke! No, no; my young lord has kept his promise to me, and I will not fail him.’
‘Madame,’ faltered Malcolm, ‘I came by command of the King of Scots.’
‘So much the better,’ cried Jaqueline. ‘So he can play into our hands, for all his grandeur! It will lose him his wager, though! Here is bride—there is priest—nay, bishop!’ pointing to him of Thérouenne, who had accompanied her, but hitherto had stood silent.
‘Madame,’ said Malcolm, ‘the time and state of the household forbid.’
‘Ma foi! What is that to us? King Henry is neither our brother nor our father; and Catherine will soon laugh at it as a good joke.’
‘Nay,’ said the Bishop, with more propriety, ‘it is the contract and troth-plight alone that could take place at present. That secure, the full solemnities will await a fitting time; but it is necessary that the troth be exchanged at once.’
‘Monseigneur,’ said Esclairmonde, ‘mine is in other keeping.’