“The admiral’s bride!” exclaimed Edward, in astonishment, while the utmost surprise was manifested by all who heard the announcement.
The Princess Elizabeth became pale as death, and with difficulty repressed a cry.
“You are not jesting with us, we trust, my lord?” said Edward to Northampton.
“Nay, my liege, his lordship has advanced nothing more than the truth, as I can certify,” said the Marquis of Dorset; “for I was present at the ceremony, which took place in St. Peter’s Chapel in the Tower about a month ago, though I have hitherto kept silence on the subject, being bound to secrecy.”
“As was the case with myself, sire,” cried Northampton. “I pray you pardon me.”
“Why do they hesitate to approach us?” said Edward.
“Sire, they dare not enter your presence till assured of your forgiveness,” replied Northampton.
“Tell them they have it,” replied the king.
This joyful intelligence being communicated to the admiral and his consort, they came forward hand in hand, and made a profound reverence to the young monarch.
“Sire,” said Lord Seymour, “I here present to you my bride, and we both entreat your forgiveness for having kept our marriage secret from you.”
“You might have trusted me, methinks?” rejoined Edward, with a gracious smile.
“I have not forfeited your good opinion by the step I have taken, I trust, sire?” said Catherine.
“By no means, madam,” rejoined Edward, kissing her on the brow, and raising her. “You have an additional title to our regard. We only blame you for not confiding in us from the first. However, we will not chide you. You are freely and fully forgiven.”
These gracious words overwhelmed the admiral and his bride with gratitude.
Meanwhile the protector looked on with lowering brows. Seeing his brother about to present his consort to him, he turned to move away, but the king detained him.
“I pray your Highness to remain,” he said. “Nay, I command it,” he added, authoritatively.
On this the protector stopped. Turning to the admiral, he thus addressed him in a stern tone:
“You have been guilty of great presumption, my lord, and though his majesty, who is too young to judge your indecorous conduct properly, has graciously pardoned you, do not expect like leniency from me. By taking me by surprise you hoped to avert the full force of my displeasure, but you will gain nothing by the expedient.”
“I am sorry to have offended your Highness,” rejoined the admiral, with mock humility, “but since I have his majesty’s pardon, I must endeavor to bear the weight of your displeasure.”
“You will have to answer to the council for what you have done,” cried Somerset, furiously.
“I shall be ready, whenever required, to give an account of my actions,” replied Seymour, proudly.
“And I trust the lords of the council will also hear my explanation,” said Catherine, “ere they censure the choice I have made.”
“They will not censure you, madame, since they know my pleasure,” said the king, with great dignity. “In this matter your Highness will allow me to judge,” he added to the lord protector. “If I do not disapprove of the marriage between my father’s widow and my uncle, I see not why you should condemn it so strongly, or reprimand him so sharply. The lord admiral is as near to me, and as dear to mè, as your Highness—perchance dearer—and he shall not want my support. So your Grace will look to it—you will look to it, I say.”
Uttered in a tone and with a gesture forcibly recalling the manner of the late king, these words did not fail to produce an effect on Somerset.
“Ay, look to it, brother—look to it, you had best,” repeated Seymour, derisively.
“Let the harmony of this meeting be no more disturbed,” pursued Edward. “It is our sovereign will and pleasure that the marriage of our uncle the lord admiral with her majesty the queen be no further questioned or discussed. We approve it. Let that suffice.”
On this emphatic declaration on the part of the young monarch, there was a loud burst of applause, and many who had held aloof pressed eagerly forward to offer their congratulations to the admiral. Seeing that the tide was running too forcibly against him to be resisted, Somerset deemed it prudent to turn round, but he did so with an ill grace.