Without turning toward him, his father spoke. “You did well in speaking to the duke tonight. You discouraged him from his purpose and saved him the embarrassment of rejection.”
“I couldn’t marry his daughter”
King Philip turned to look at him. “You’ve met her?”
“No, I’m sure she’s a lovely young lady. It’s her father I have a problem with”
The king nodded. “So I noticed.”
“I don’t trust him, Father. There’s something insincere about him.”
“As opposed to all the courtiers?” his father asked with a faint smile.
James couldn’t help but smile back. “I see your point. Speaking frankly for a moment, though, I think the duke is dangerous.”
His father put a hand on his shoulder. “Leave the duke for me to worry about. You need to be concerning yourself with other matters.”
“What?” James asked cautiously.
“Marriage. The duke was right about that, at least. Its time you take a bride.”
James pulled back. “But, Father!”
“No, I’ve left you alone for a long time—too long. It’s my fault. I wanted you to enjoy your life before you had to take up the burden of your position. Well, the time has long past come. You need to step up to your responsibilities as prince and future king of Aster. And the first responsibility you must take up is getting married. In this I am immovable.”
“But … who?”
“On that question I am a little more flexible. Do you know why I never remarried?”
The question caught James off guard. He shook his head.
His father’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Because I truly loved your mother. We two were fortunate, more so than most others. I would wish that kind of happiness for you.”
James didn’t know what to say. Naked pain danced in King Philip’s eyes. After a moment, he continued in a husky voice.
“I’m prepared to help you in whatever way I can. I could throw a ball and invite all the eligible ladies of this kingdom and the surrounding ones to attend….”
James wrinkled his nose. “No, thank you, Father. I think I just have to figure this out for myself.”
“Well, whatever you’re going to do, do it quickly, else I shall be forced to choose for you,”
“And who would you choose?”
“The Lady Elaine”
The Lady Elaine was six years James’s senior and still unmarried, with good reason. The lady had a pleasant face and a nice form, but it was when she opened her mouth that others fled. It wasn’t just that she had a voice that brayed like a mule, it was that with her word choice she more often resembled that creature than any other. She was not only prone to saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, she was also critical of everything, and her opinion was freely shared with all.
“Oh Father, anyone but her!” James protested.
The king raised an eyebrow. “Really? You would prefer the duke’s daughter?”
“No,” James answered quietly.
His father nodded once and then turned to stare back out the window. The interview was over. James stood only a few moments more before leaving quietly. He was sure that his muted footsteps on the floor were completely drowned out by the pounding of his heart.
Peter was entering his chamber with a fresh pitcher of water when James arrived back there. The older man lifted an eyebrow upon seeing him. James threw himself on the bed as Peter placed the pitcher on a table across the room.
“Will there be anything else, Your Highness?”
James sighed as he glanced at Peter. The servant had always been a friend and confidant, something of a second father to him.
“He wants me to marry.”
Peter didn’t say anything.
“You knew that’s what he wanted to speak with me about, didn’t you?”
“I had my suspicions.”
“What am I going to do? All the princesses and noble ladies I’ve met have bored me to tears. I can’t imagine happiness trapped in a marriage with one of them.”
“I’m sure there are other possibilities.”
“Who?”
“What about your little friend from the village?”
James felt the color drain from his face as he sat upright. “How do you know about her?”
Peter actually laughed. “Highness, please, I’ve known about her for years.”
“My father?”
“Knows nothing about her. Still, I think he would understand. Your mother was not your grandfather’s first choice for a daughter-in-law.”
“Yes, but she was from a noble family.” James shook his head. “This is insanity, anyway. Pearl is my best friend.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “Many marriages have been based on less than that.”
“Do you really think Father would approve?”
“He might and he might not. The thing is, though, he’s not so much eager that you have a wife as that you have an heir.”
James nodded. “I figured that was what he was thinking. He was just being polite by not mentioning ‘bride’ and ‘child’ in the same sentence.” He looked at Peter, The older man was possessed of keen insight, not only into people, but also into situations and events.
“What would you do?” James asked.
Peter looked at him kindly, “I’d follow my heart.”
The next morning watery sunlight shone through James’s window. He had barely slept all night, falling asleep in the dark hour before the dawn. The only thing he was sure about was that he had to talk to Pearl, and soon.
His clothes had already been laid out for him, and he dressed quickly. He hoped he would see Pearl when he went to the village. He grimaced. Even if he was able to see her, talking to her would prove a different challenge.
When he entered the Hall, he found Robert eating breakfast alone. The marquis looked up, stood, and bowed. James nodded and kept walking. He was in no mood for idle chatter.
“Highness, if I may have a moment of your time.”
James groaned and considered what would happen if he just kept walking. He measured the distance to the door and wondered if he could feign deafness. He had vowed to keep an eye on the duke, though, and that included watching his son. He turned and smiled weakly. “What is it, Robert?”
“I was actually wanting your advice on something.”
James’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wouldn’t have thought that Robert would want his advice on anything. Intrigued, he asked, “What about?”
“Women. Or, to be more precise, one woman.”
Now James was really bewildered. “Go on”
“I have fallen in love with a young lady and I wanted to ask her father for her hand in marriage.”
“A noble endeavor. Where does the difficulty lie?”
“The lady in question is common born—a peasant, to put it bluntly”
“I see,” James replied slowly. “And you’re worried about marrying her and the possible repercussions?”
“Yes, Highness, I am.”
“Do you love her?” James asked, privately astonished that he and Robert should have more in common than he would have thought.
“I do.”
“Then do not worry. My father might not be happy, but he will not block your union with this woman.”
“Your father has always seemed to me to be very benevolent, and respectful of all, regardless of their station,” Robert noted.
“Yes, he is,” James answered, smiling. “I’ve always admired him for that.”
“As is to be expected. Now, if my own father will prove as understanding, all should be well.”
“I shall pray for understanding from both of our fathers,” James remarked, knowing Robert could not know he would be asking it for them both. James nodded his head. “I will see you at dinner.”
Robert bowed, and James headed for the door. Once he reached it he turned back around. “Robert, when you have proposed to your lady, bring
her back to the castle so that she might prepare adequately for your wedding.”
“You are too gracious, Your Highness,” Robert said, bowing once more.
Smiling, James left the room. If he could help Robert, he must be able to help himself.
Pearl reached the doors of the church her steps halting and her heart hammering in her chest like a frightened bird. Tears fell on the flowers she carried in her hand. It was supposed to be good luck for the bride to cry. Pearl was afraid, though, that no amount of luck could save her.
Pearl stood at the fruit cart, trying hard to ignore the fact that she was only a stone’s throw away from the blacksmith’s forge. She tried to pretend she couldn’t hear Thomas’s booming voice as he greeted passersby. It wasn’t working. Chills danced up her spine.
“Well, are you going to buy something or just stand there gawking?” asked the lady minding the cart.
Pearl jumped and muttered an apology. She hurriedly picked out what she wanted, filled her basket with fruit, and paid for it. She started to turn, wishing to be away from the blacksmith, A stone twisted under her foot, though, and she fell headlong, apples spilling out across the ground in front of her. Stunned, she lay for a moment, willing the earth to open and swallow her.
“Pearl, are you all right?”
She looked up to see Thomas staring down at her. She felt herself flush as he offered his hand. She took it reluctantly and scrambled back to her feet. He stooped and retrieved the apples and handed them back to hen His fingers brushed hers, and she jerked involuntarily.
“I’ve been wanting to talk with you, Pearl.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot and stared intently at her.
She opened her mouth to say something, anything, to keep him from continuing. Nothing came to mind.
“Make way for Prince James!”
The herald’s cry saved her. Thomas turned to look and to back out of the way of the royal entourage. Pearl took the opportunity to slip away. She dashed through the crowd, praying to go unnoticed. She stopped only when she had put a good distance between her and Thomas.
As she paused to calm herself, she caught sight of James coming toward her. Dressed in finery and wearing a cloak of rich velvet, he looked so different than he did when in the simple clothes she normally saw him in. As he drew abreast of her she bowed like everyone else. After all, he might be her friend, but he was her prince first and foremost.
He paused almost imperceptibly in front of her and cast a sideways glance. “Meet me after dinner,” he instructed, his voice so low, she scarcely heard him.
She dipped her head in understanding. Her heart was in her throat. Never before had he risked speaking to her in public, and rarely had he asked to meet on a different day. Then he swept on, followed by guards, attendants, and the curious. Once they had passed, she made her way through the crowd and headed for home.
She was halfway there before her heart stopped pounding.
Inside the cottage she found Mary preparing a goose. Pearl grinned at the thought of the coming dinner. Mary looked up from her work and waved a finger at her. “I see you smiling. It’s scandalous that a fisherman’s daughter prefers goose to fish.”
“I cant help it. I feel sorry for the poor little fish.”
“And not the goose?” Mary shook her head. “You’ve always been a strange one, Pearl.”
“Why, Mama?”
“Why what?”
Pearl swallowed hard. “Why am I so different from everyone else?”
Mary’s brow furrowed. “You’re not, dear. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“No, this isn’t about the goose. It’s about everything … my hair, my skin, my legs.”
Her mother didn’t look up, and appeared to be very intent on her preparations. The way she began to hack at the goose with a knife was erratic, though, a sign of strain. “What’s wrong with your legs?”
“Nothing, if I were a horse.”
“They’re just … a little long.”
“They’re very long, they don’t fit with the rest of me, and I’m constantly tripping over my feet.”
“You’ll grow into them,” Mary hastened to reassure her
“Mama, I’m seventeen. I think I’m done growing.”
“Pearl, there is nothing wrong with you. My mother had skin nearly as pale as yours, and the baker’s children in the next village all have light, whitish hair.”
“And the legs?” she asked gloomily.
“Some people have big hands, large noses. Your father has huge feet—even the cobbler says so. So, you have long legs. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I guess,” Pearl whispered, unconvinced. She took a breath and pressed further. “Where do you think I came from?”
“My, you’re full of questions today.”
“Haven’t you ever wondered?”
Mary set the goose down hard and stared into Pearl’s eyes. “No, I haven’t. You were a gift from God, a child He wanted to be protected, and that was all I ever needed to know. You worry too much, Pearl.”
Pearl nodded, recognizing the tone in Mary’s voice and knowing there was no use trying to talk to her more about it. It has to be painful for her when I ask such things, a reminder that she’s not my birth mother. A wave of remorse swept over her. “I’ll go wash up so I can help you.”
“Pearl.” Mary’s voice trembled slightly. “I love you. I couldn’t love you any more even if I’d given birth to you. Sometimes I think I love you more because I didn’t. You are the most precious gift I ever received. We want only your happiness.”
“I know, Mama,” Pearl answered softly.
The rays of the setting sun seemed to touch the ocean. Pearl knew that she should probably be getting home, but James still hadn’t said a word, just paced up and down the sand. Her eyes followed him as the fading sunlight danced across his black hair. He must have come straight from dinner. He was still dressed in all his castle finery, and it unnerved her a little. Sometimes she almost imagined that he was two different people: the prince of Aster, and her friend James.
“How was your day?”
She jumped at his voice and laughed shakily. “Well, I embarrassed myself in the marketplace and had to face Thomas.”
“Thomas?” His brow furrowed in thought. “You mean the blacksmith?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand. Was he cruel to you?”
“No.” She took a deep breath. “Last night my father told me that Thomas had asked for my hand in marriage.”
“What! He’s like a hundred years older than you!”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his exaggeration. “I know.”
“You refused, of course.”
She hesitated long enough that he spun around and locked eyes with her. She sighed. “It’s not that simple, I’m afraid.”
“Of course it is. You just say no. That’s all there is to it.”
“No, that’s not all. If I am to be a dutiful daughter, I should accept. He is … a kind man and I … I would always be provided for.”
James’s eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. He stared at her long and hard, and it unnerved her. She wanted to look away but couldn’t; there was something in his eyes that shot through her. He stepped close to her suddenly. “Is Finneas forcing you into this?” he asked, grasping her upper arms.
“No. I know he thinks I should accept, though,” she answered, shaken by his intensity.
James barked a short laugh. “Ha, you can do much better than Thomas.”
Pearl felt tears welling up in her eyes. “Look at me, James.”
He did, staring deeply into her eyes. His hands still grasped her arms, and she realized with a shiver just how close he was standing to her. Another step and she would be in his arms.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue. “All the other girls my age are married. Thomas is the first one to ask for my hand … and there won’t be any others.”
He rele
ased her and stepped back. “Of course there will be,” he said, with the ease of someone always surrounded by possibilities and a variety of choices.
It was moments like this when she felt how different they really were. Any woman would gladly marry a prince; James could have anyone he wanted. She, on the other hand, was just the daughter of a poor fisherman, with a strange appearance and dismal prospects. Frustration welled up inside her, “Look at me! Who else would want a wife who looks so strange and who is constantly tripping over her own feet? Nobody, that’s who! It’s not like I’m royalty that I can pick and choose whomever I want, I’m lucky my father even took my feelings into consideration.”
She burst into tears, unable to contain her frustration and anger any longer. She sank down upon the sand, and he dropped down beside her. They sat for several minutes, her crying and him letting her. When at last her tears began to dry, he put a hand under her chin and pulled her head up. When she met his eyes, she saw tears in them.
“Pearl. It is not so easy for royalty, either. Last night my father told me he wanted me to marry. He suggested a princess I barely know and cannot much tolerate. Still, it would be a good political alliance for Aster. He has not said that I must marry her, but he has made it clear that I must marry quickly, I think he wants to see a grandson before he dies.”
Pearl’s heart sank as a fresh wave of tears burst forth. James reached out and gripped her hand with his. His fingers entwined with hers, and the intimacy of the touch startled her and sent ripples of shock through her and stemmed the flow of tears. “Pray that God gives me wisdom, and I shall pray to discover how I might help you,” he whispered.
Pearl could only nod, her mouth having gone dry. His thumb was tracing a path across the back of her hand.
With his free hand he reached out and touched the pearl around her neck. His fingers brushed against her skin, “You are incredibly special, Pearl. Do not agree to marry the blacksmith.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
He took a deep breath, “We should both get back before we’re missed. Do you need me to walk you home?”
Midnight Pearls Page 4
