The Pearl Of Great Price

Chapter 3: Secrets

The wedding was over in a matter of minutes. It takes longer to go to confession than it did their ceremony. How pitiful is that? Mary heard women talk about how their wedding was the happiest day of their lives. In truth, it should be, but for her, it feels hollow. This is because there is no one to share the joyous occasion with. If times were different, she would be wed to a gallant prince about to embark on the journey of ruling a country. There would also be a grand celebration.

Instead, she is wed to a Duke with no extravaganza whatsoever. No flowery poems read for them about love. No one to throw coins outside the chapel. No heralding announcement. No dowry to give her husband. Nothing. But the fact remains they are now husband and wife. Letting out a deep breath, Mary comported her emotions into herself. It's what she does. It is how she has learned to survive. Hiding one's feelings is not the easiest thing, but sometimes it's the only thing to do.

The Princess departed the chapel the same way she entered, on the arm of His Grace. Now her Lord Husband. With a smile, she ushered her husband into the main room of the decrepit castle. Letting go of his arm, Mary turned to him. "Your Grace—-"

The man cut her off by saying, "Charles. We are now married. Please call me Charles."

Giving him a casual look, she tested the use of his given name on her tongue. "In that case, Charles, please call me Mary."

Her Highness clasped her hands not to feel awkward, which is how she usually feels--- awkward and clumsy. But she must hold her own and get these questions out. "Charles, will I be allowed to retain my two ladies in waiting? What will happen to my governess, Lady Salisbury? And finally, when are we to leave?"

His wife asks hard questions, with answers that the Duke does not want to provide because it will break her spirit. Looking her in the eyes, he explained, "We must be leaving shortly, as it will take a long time to travel back to Suffolk. I hope you have had time to pack what you need. As for your governess, she will be stationed at her own home. But fear not, you can write to her and visit even. Your ladies have been invited to stay with you."

He noticed the relief on her face at those words. Then Charles added, "However, I received a written notice from Lady Margaret Douglas's father. She will be returning to him to serve elsewhere. Lady Dorothy will remain with you. She will ride in the second carriage with your belongings and her own."

He saw her face turn down. She is disappointed. He takes no pleasure in speaking terrible news, especially to family, which she is now. Then Charles watched her face change into steel resolve. The resemblance to her mother, in that regard, is impressive. If it had been his late wife, the woman would be throwing a fit and throwing things at him. It makes the man wonder where she is hiding that Tudor temper. But one thing is clear; she is not her father's Princess. She is her mother's heroine.

While Charles was observing his wife, Mary was thinking things over. She did not know any of these things. No letter was directed to her stating that Marge would not join her new household. The lady had kept it to herself like some dirty secret. For this reason, the Princess does not let herself get attached to people. They always leave in the end.

Fixing her gaze on the Duke, she stated, "Thank you for informing me of these things. I did not know Lady Douglas would depart, but I understand the reasoning. I did not have much time to pack. I found out I was to marry just yesterday with a letter delivered by His Majesty's Royal Rider. I do have my trunks prepared, though. I would like to say goodbye, and then I will be ready to leave."

Charles's brows knitted together. His wife had only been told the day before about their wedding? His strong jaw clenched, and a sigh left his mouth. Only her father would be so careless as to do such a thing. It is not surprising, given the King's treatment of her. He is now sure of one thing. She was a child forced to grow up too soon. A whisper in the heart spoke of how he is a man acting like a child.