Great Britain -- History -- Charles II, 1660-1685 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"Dost forget that at any moment may come a courier from the King to
recall thee; and if so, thou wouldst be obliged to go and be separated
from us, perhaps forever? Thou dost not know what may befall thee
at any moment. Thou dost belong to France, and art hostage to
England--thou wilt be ready at eleven?"
"Aye, at eleven."
"We will be cautious and not speak above a whisper. The Chaplain will
speak low, too; but he is a good soul and would make us fast wed
whether we heard him or not." Again he kissed her forehead; she turned
rose-red and ran from him hastily. She thought not once of Cedric. Had
she done so, 'tis possible she never would have gone to the dial that
summer night. She flew to her chamber aflame with this new thing she
thought was love. And felt relief that soon Sir Julian, the strong and
brave, would take away all her discomfort. He would fight her battles
for her, go with her to the King and stand by her side and his Majesty
would not dare to offer her insult. It would be a sweet task to
convert Sir Julian to her faith. He would became a great Catholic
leader. Her breast fairly swelled with pride in anticipation.
CHAPTER XXI
THE ESPOUSAL
Night had come richly laden with the perfume of many flowers, that the
darkness seemed to make more pungent, and more distinct to the ear
the night sounds. There was no moon, and the thick foliage produced a
deep, dark density, mysterious and sweet. The grand terraces about the
castle were still, save for the buzz of summer insects and the low,
sleepy twittering of birds. There was not a star to be seen and only
the glow-worm lent an occasional lilliputian effulgence to the great,
dark world. All within the castle appeared to have retired earlier
than usual; perhaps for the purpose of an earlier awakening, as their
Graces of Ellswold were to set out early on the morrow morning, aiming
to make some great distance on their journey before the heat of
midday. At a quarter after the hour of ten Janet had kissed her
mistress, leaning over her pillow with even more affection than usual.
"Good-night, my Lambkin, my child, my precious maid--good-night and
God bless thee!" then snuffed the candles and left her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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