Festina Lente

Chapter Sixty-Three: Your Majesty

In the time since he had been married to his wife, they had not seen much of each other especially now that Mary was serving in the Queen's household and he had hopes that would change soon. 

"I am most eager to serve Your Majesty in any way that you see fit," Richmond stated with a smile, his eyes moving past the Queen towards his father-in-law and the Duke of Wiltshire. 

Both men were rumoured to be the real control behind the throne while the King was gone and if he hoped to make his mark then he needed to be on their side. 

***

"There is a gentlemen here to see you, he says that he brings you a gift," one of her ladies whispered in the Duchess of Calais's ear while her mistress prepared for her day, they had arrived ahead of the delegations to prepare for her wedding. 

It had been an interesting experience settling into the Château that she would now call her home, her French was not the best but she had quickly found herself using it more than her English. 

Lady Margaret furrowed her brow, she could not imagine who would come calling at her chambers, she did not have any friends here in Calais since they viewed her as an outsider. 

Waving her hand to her lady, Margaret turned away from the mirror and moved across her private chambers towards the parlour so that she might meet with this gentlemen that had come bearing gifts. 

Upon entering her parlour, Margaret stared upon the man that had come to her; he was rather a handsome fellow and she watched his face when he turned to greet her. 

There was something about him that she could not place and Margaret was sure that it would come to her, perhaps he was one of the new servants that she had seen around preparing her home for such a splendid wedding. 

"Your Grace," the man with a bow, his eyes lowering but for a moment before they returned to her face and he seemed to stare right into her soul leaving Margaret to feel rather warm. 

The light blush that formed on her pale face only seemed to deepen the longer that he stared upon her beauty, there was no denying that she was an attractive woman and her match was a lucky man. 

"I bring you a gift from your future husband, His Grace hopes that it shall please you," the man stated, his eyes did not seem to leave her and he waited upon her reply that he was most eager to receive. 

He had come all the way from Picardy and he had to admit that Margaret was not what he had expected, the whispers of her beauty had not been exaggerated nor had the portrait that had come to Picardy. 

"Then I am most pleased to receive it," Margaret replied eagerly, she had no expected such a gift from her future husband; she had assumed that only when they married that she would know him. 

The gentleman nodded his head before moving to present the boxed gift to her, it had been made for her especially and no other had worn the gift; it had taken weeks for the jeweller to perfect.

Carefully opening the box that had been handed to her, Margaret stared down in awe at the necklace that she had been gifted; it was beautiful, something more fitting a Queen than her lowly self. 

Moving to touch one of the gems that decorated the fine gold, Margaret wished that she had something to send Antoine in return for this gift; she could think of nothing that would show her gratitude for this necklace. 

"You must tell His Grace that I am most pleased with the gift, it is beautiful and I shall were it when we wed," Margaret vowed with a smile, she tore her eyes away from the necklace and smiled at the man that had been sent to present it to her. 

Words failed her on how much she loved the gift and she would wear it when they were wed, it would suit the dress that she had ordered made for the occasion; there would be none more beautiful than she on her wedding day. 

"I am also to present this poem to Your Grace, written by His Grace's own hand for you as he hears that you are quite the poet yourself," the gentleman stated pleased that she had liked the gift, he moved to present the poem to her; he couldn't take his eyes off her especially the smile that lit up her entire face. 

The blush that had slowly disappeared from before returned at the mention of her poetry and the man was hopeful that perhaps he might hear her read some of her own to him one day. 

Their match might have been arranged by their Kings but that did not mean that they could not be happy, he would only ask that she was loyal to him above all others. 

"You must thank His Grace for me, he is most generous to share such things with me," Margaret insisted taking the poem, she would read it later least she embarrass herself further by blushing some much. 

The man bowed down to her before excusing himself, a smile on his face knowing that soon enough she would know the truth and that perhaps he could accept the plan that Francis had for him. 

If he was to marry into the King of England's niece then he would accept his duty for the good of France.