“All that concerns you must needs concern me,” she answered. “But since what you have to tell relates partly to myself, I suppose you must allude to the acknowledgment of our marriage.”
“Now you have hit it, sweetheart. If it meets your approval, the avowal shall be made to-morrow.”
“You are the best judge, my lord, whether the step be prudent, and whether you are in a position to brave your brother’s anger, for I suppose nothing has occurred to cause a change in his sentiments. To me it must naturally be agreeable to have an end put to mystery and concealment foreign to my character and feelings; but I am content to continue as I am for some time longer, rather than you should incur the slightest risk from the lord protector and the council. Satisfied that I am bound to you by sacred ties, which can never be sundered save by death, I am in no hurry for the disclosure.”
“Delay will not improve matters—peradventure, it may make them worse,” he rejoined. “The present juncture seems favorable for the avowal.”
“Be it as you will—you have but to command. Yet I again beg you to put me entirely out of the question, and adopt only such a course as will be most beneficial to yourself.”
“It is due to your fair fame, Kate, which may suffer, it is due to myself, and it is due also to the king, that our marriage should no longer be concealed. My plan is this, sweetheart. To-morrow, as you know, I give a fete at Seymour House, and I propose to make it the occasion of introducing you as my consort to the king.”
“But will Edward like to be thus taken by surprise? Would it not be better to prepare him?”
“I do not think so. By making a confidant of my royal nephew, I should still further incense my brother. Besides, nothing would be gained, for it is certain Edward will not disapprove of the marriage.”
“Well, perhaps you are right. I will do as you direct; though, were I to consult my own feelings, I would continue this life of retirement, and shun court gaieties and revels, which have become distasteful to me.”
“Hereafter you may withdraw into privacy, if you list, Kate, but for the present you must aid me in the important part I have to play.”
“Would you were less ambitious, Seymour! My chance of happiness, I feel, would be greater.”
“Pshaw! if I succeed, and raise myself to the point at which I aim, you will have everything to make you happy, Kate. If I am all but king, you will be prouder, happier than you were as the spouse of Henry VIII.”
“‘T is to be hoped so, Seymour,” she sighed; “for I was anything but happy then. In good truth, I almost dread to enter the great world again. But your will is law with me.”
“You are a good and dutiful wife, Kate,” he cried, pressing his lips to her brow. “As I have said, you can do much for me at this moment. Dorset has been with me to-day. He has just returned from Bradgate. I had some talk with him about his daughter, and he has agreed to consign her to your care as soon as our marriage is avowed.”
“Nothing could please me better,” replied Catherine. “The Lady Jane Grey, as you know, is an especial favorite of mine.”
“And with good reason, sweetheart, for she is a paragon of perfection—marvellously beautiful, and marvellously wise. In due time, we must provide a suitable husband for her.”
“Have you not one already in your eye, Seymour?”
“I will not deny it,” he replied. “Jane’s merits are so transcendent that I only know one person worthy of her—my royal nephew; and though there are many obstacles in the way, yet I am certain the match may be brought about. Edward has conceived a kind of boyish passion for her; and were he to search the world, he could find no better wife than Jane Grey would make him.”
“That I firmly believe,” replied Catherine. “Jane is wiser than women usually are—virtuous and pious—and would be the brightest jewel in Edward’s crown. It will delight me to promote this scheme, because I am sure that by so doing I shall further Edward’s happiness.”