"Ay, and much more," answered Richard. "There are intentions in my bosom towards you, and my good Lord Calverly, which need not be mentioned; but they will bear fruit--they will bear fruit;" and he nodded his head significantly. "As soon as this expedition is over, on which I would have you go,--I mean into Dorsetshire, to guard the coast there for a few days, and put down the turbulent spirit of the people in those parts, your marriage shall take place."
"May it not take place as I go thither, sire?" asked Fulmer, with an impatient tone. "I must have a day or two for preparation. 'Tis but the last ceremonies of the church are wanting; and I know that I shall have Lord Calverly's good will. I will set off immediately, when she is my own.
"What," exclaimed Richard, "has not my Lord Calverly told you that we propose to be present ourselves? He concealed it from you, to make it a pleasant surprise. No, no, this business admits of no delay. These turbulent peasants must be put down, before their discontent becomes dangerous; and you must away at once."
"May I speak plainly to your grace?" demanded Fulmer.
Richard bowed his head gravely; and the other went on, in a somewhat mortified tone.
"In quitting Chidlow castle now, for your grace's service," he said, "I leave a somewhat dangerous rival with my promised bride."
"A rival!" said Richard. "Who may that be? I thought she was contracted to you."
"It is so, sire," answered Fulmer; "but we all know that no contracts are held very valid, by some men, against the power of love."
"My brother Edward thought so," answered Richard, with a sarcastic turn of the lip. "Who may this rival be, I say?"
"No other than the Lord Chartley," answered Fulmer, "whom your grace has placed in ward with the lady's uncle."