Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by G. P. R. James

By her side sat her two women, Geraldine and Bridget, whose fingers were going with the rapidity of lightning, quickened into excessive haste by the approaching removal of the court to Calais, which was to take place in the short space of one week, while their mistress's dresses were not half-finished, and their own not begun.

What it was that occupied Lady Katrine's thoughts, and made her gay face look grave, is nothing to any one. Perhaps it might be, that she had not as many dresses as Lady Winifred Stanton; perhaps she had seen a jewel that she could not afford to buy; perhaps Higglemeasure, the merchant, had brought her a brocade that the queen would not let her wear; perhaps she was vexed at not having seen Lord Darby for eight days, the last time having been on the same morning that Sir Osborne Maurice had been driven from the court. Perhaps she was angry with herself for having parted from him with an affectation of indifference which she did not feel.

Well aware that, now Wolsey had returned, the pleasure of seeing her lover almost daily must cease; and that stiff and formal interviews, in presence of the whole court, or a few brief sentences at a mask or pageant, were all they could hope to attain; Lady Katrine did indeed repent that she had suffered her own caprices to mingle any bitter in the few happy hours that Fate had sent her.

Though she had some vanity, too, she had not enough to prevent her seeing and regretting that she had been in fault; and she made those resolutions of amendment which a light spirit often forms every hour, and breaks before the next: and thus sewing and thinking, and thinking and sewing, and stitching in excellent determinations with every seam as she went along, she revolved in her own mind all the various events that had lately happened at the court.

It may well be supposed, that the sudden disappearance of Sir Osborne Maurice, at the same time as that of Lady Constance de Grey, had given rise to many strange rumours, none of which, of course, did Lady Katrine believe; and, to do her justice, although perhaps she was not at all sorry that Constance had judged it right to put an end to any further proceedings regarding her marriage with Lord Darby, by removing herself from the court, yet Lady Katrine suffered no one to hint a doubt in her presence regarding her friend's conduct. But that which was much more in Constance's favour was the good word of the queen herself, who at once silenced scandal by saying, that she would take upon herself to assert, that Lady Constance de Grey had never dreamed of flying from the court with Sir Osborne Maurice. It was very natural, she observed, that a young heiress of rank, and wealth, and proud family, should take refuge anywhere, rather than contract a marriage to which she had always expressed her repugnance; and without meaning offence to the lord cardinal, she could not think but that Constance was right.

Notwithstanding this, many were the tales that were circulated by the liemongers of the court; and it hurt the really generous heart of Lady Katrine to hear them. Meditating, then, over all these circumstances, nearly in the same desultory way in which they are here written down, she took little notice when one of the servants of the palace called her maid Geraldine out of the room. After a short while, Geraldine came back and called out Bridget, and still Lady Katrine continued to work on. After a moment or two she ceased, and leaning her head on her hand, gave herself up to still deeper thought, when suddenly the door opened and Lord Darby presented himself.

Too much taken by surprise to give herself any airs, Lady Katrine looked up with a smile of unaffected delight, and Darby, reading his welcome in her eyes, advanced, and casting his arm round her, imprinted a warm kiss on the full arching lips that smiled too temptingly for human philosophy to resist. Luckily did it happen that he did so within the first minute; for, had he waited later, Lady Katrine might not so easily have pardoned his boldness. However, her only remark was, "Well, Darby, you seem to think it so much a matter of course, that I suppose I too must let it pass as such. But don't look so happy, man, lest I should take it into my head to make you look otherwise before you go."

"Nay, nay, Katrine," said Lord Darby; "not so, when I come solely for the purpose of asking you to make me happy."

The earl spoke seriously, tenderly, and there was so much hope, and affection, and feeling in his glance, that Lady Katrine felt there must be some meaning in his words. "If you love me, Darby," cried she, "tell me what you mean; and make haste, for my maids will be back, and you know you must not stay here."

"Yes, I may, Katrine," replied he; "no one but you can now send me away. In a word, dear girl, to put an end to suspense, I have the king's and the cardinal's consent to ask your hand, and the queen's to seek you here. Will you refuse me?"