Lady Jane: A Time For Us

m******e Part Two

"Grace! It's been forever, hasn't it?" Gaston hugged her and kissed her on each cheek, as was his habit.

"Forever," Grace agreed.

"You shouldn't be here now, Grace. You should be back home in England where you're safe. Your life means nothing here."

"Do you now dwell in France then, Gaston, or still in Spitalsfield?"

"In Spitalsfield still, but I cannot stay safely in Protestant England while my family members and friends are being senselessly slaughtered."

"I came here for the same reason. Is your life of any less value than mine?"

Gaston sighed deeply. "My cousin, Rene." He nodded at the man on the bed. "Stabbed in the chest by a Catholic. I think that a lung might have been punctured."

Rene looked half awake, and his breath sounded very congested. A thin stream of blood trickled from his mouth. His eyes met Grace's, and he looked startled.

"An angel...come to escort me to Paradise..."

Gaston laughed gently and patted Rene's arm. "No, no, Rene. This is my friend Grace from England."

Rene coughed slightly, and Grace heard a gurgling sound in his chest as he exhaled.

Jane was surprised to see Guilford enter the hospital later that day, blood dripping from his hand.

"Guilford! What on earth..."

"I saw a Papist attempting to stab an unarmed man outside a church. I tried to stop him and my hand got in the way of the knife," Guilford said grimly.

"Oh, no, Guilford!" Jane gingerly examined Guilford's injured hand. The blood was copious, and the wound looked quite deep. "I'm afraid it will need stitches."

"I don't mind," Guilford said bravely.

"I can't bear the thought of causing you more pain, my love."

"If it must be done, then it must be done. Just try to be quick about it."

Jane could see that Guilford was in more pain than he was willing to show, although he neither said a word nor even flinched during the entire procedure. When it was finished, Jane tenderly kissed the wound. Guilford hugged and kissed her and departed to rejoin Sir Francis Walsingham, who was desperately trying to keep the peace.

Grace sat with Gaston, both of them silently watching Rene. Occasionally he would stir, at which time Gaston or Grace would gently urge him to drink some water. At one point Grace saw his lips moving and heard him mumbling. She could just barely make out his words. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me..."

Rene's lips stopped moving, and his eyes rolled up into his head.

"Gaston, do you suppose he's..."

Gaston felt Rene's wrist, then the side of his neck. He nodded solemnly, reached over to gently close Rene's blankly staring eyes, then pulled the sheet up to cover Rene's face.

There was no time to mourn, as right afterwards, a commotion arose as a group of several people entered the hospital, and Gaston and Grace went to see if they could be of any assistance. As she drew closer, Grace saw a sliver of white emerging from bloody flesh, and was shocked to realize that it was the stump of a man's arm with the bone protruding from the end. Suddenly her legs turned to jelly, the room began to spin, and then everything turned black. Gaston caught her just before she crumpled to the floor.

"A woman in your condition has no business doing this kind of work," the physician told Grace. "For how long have you known that you were with child?"

"To be honest, the possibility had never even crossed my mind," Grace replied. "I don't even remember when my last monthly courses were. Of course I've been tired lately, but I thought that it must be due to stress..."

"You must return to England right away," Jane said emphatically when Grace told her and Guilford the news. "I had serious misgivings about your coming along in the first place. I would have outright forbidden it if I had known that you were with child."

"But..."

"No arguments, Grace." Guilford's voice was kind but firm.

"I will escort you back to London," Gaston offered. "It isn't safe for you to travel alone."

"But you're still needed here..."

"You need me more."

"Please tell your Aunt Mary that your cousin Philip is safe. He's in Sir Walsingham's home with the others," Guilford told Grace.

"Temperance would have wanted to come as well if she had known he was here," Grace commented.

"For the wrong reason," Jane interjected sharply. "That girl is so different from the way I was when I was her age. I declare that I will never understand her."

"Of course, Father, I will tell her," Grace said.

"Please be careful, Grace." Jane hugged her daughter and kissed her cheek.

"You know that I will, Mother." Grace hugged both her parents and kissed them each on the cheek.

An awkwardness hung over Gaston and Grace as they travelled across the English Channel, one that had never been there before. In the past, conversation between them had always flowed freely and naturally. Now it was as if neither of them could think of a single thing to say to the other. A few furtive glances were exchanged, which seemed to only increase the awkwardness.

They were about halfway back to England when Gaston finally broke the silence.

"Does he treat you well, Grace?"

"Yes, he's very kind."

"I'm so glad to hear that. I couldn't bear it if he were mistreating you."

"Henry is a very good man."

"Henry? That's his name?"

"Henry Carey. He is Her Majesty's first cousin, once removed. His grandmother was Mary Boleyn, Her Majesty's mother's sister."

"It sounds like an excellent match."

"Yes." Grace stared out at the water, watching it come back together again after the boat had passed through it.

"Do you love him, Grace?"

Grace didn't answer for a long time, and Gaston almost repeated the question. "As I said, he's a good man and treats me well. We never quarrel...well, almost never."

"But do you love him?"

"I..." Grace seemed to focus intently on an invisible spot somewhere between the boat and the horizon. "Did you never marry then, Gaston?"

"No." His voice sounded more curt than he had intended it to. "The one I love is wed to another."

The awkwardness between them was now almost palpable. Grace was unsure how, or even whether, to respond. Finally she looked at her friend with eyes filled with pain. "I'm so sorry, Gaston." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"It's not your fault, Grace." Gaston's voice had a strange, hollow sound. "It's not your fault at all."

Grace thought of her young cousins Edward and Thomas Seymour and the tragic loss of their mother Katherine. She thought of her aunt Mary Keyes who had only recently been returned to court and reunited with her husband Thomas. Grace knew that there was no way in the world she could have married a French-born commoner and gotten away with it. No way in the world.

Grace forced herself to think instead of how happy Henry would be to discover that he was about to become a father, and how excited her brothers and sisters would be to find out that they were soon to have a niece or nephew. When finally she parted with Gaston, she felt as if she were saying good-bye to him forever, and as she watched him begin the journey back to France alone, she felt as if a part of her soul had been ripped out, leaving ragged edges raw and bleeding.