“I know not,” she said, shaking her head; “my heart is full of misgivings when I think of how he set upon you like a cut-throat.”
“And I cannot but rejoice that you are anxious,” he said softly, “since it shows that my safety concerns you.”
She looked at him with a tender light in her eyes.
“’Tis more to me than my own,” she said very low.
He kissed her hand passionately, although Sir William Carew was coming down the walk toward them.
“Your love,” he said, “has made a new life for me. I swore when I left Raby Castle that I would not return until I brought it the fairest mistress in all England.”
“Alas, sir,” she answered, smiling, “’twas a foolish oath, and not likely to be fulfilled.”
Without regarding their feelings, Sir William Carew cut short their talk, which might have continued long; for they were lovers, and knew how to make much of a little matter. He held a package of papers in his hand, sealed with red seals, and gave it to Raby.
“I would have that sent by a sure hand to Cromwell,” he said; “it pertains to some matters of the county of Devon and claims his eye, yet is not so important that I need take it in person.”
“It shall be delivered directly,” Raby replied, putting it in his breast; “’tis time I went, doubtless you came to remind me.”