“Lady Myra,” he warmly welcomed. He enveloped her hand within his brittle and cold palm and bowed over it. “The King has told me of your return and good health. I’m happy to see you are faring well.”
“I shall arrange for your nuptials to take place two hours hence,” The King called forward.
Nuptials? Myra flinched and abruptly spun around and viewed Seth who mirrored her confounded expression. “But Your Majesty!” Myra interrupted, shocked, and she sounded more than unpleased. “But I do not wish to marry Lord Sutherling.”
A few shocked gasps resounded inside the room by her insolence. She realized her error, and Myra continued, but her next attempt was soft and soothing. “I apologize, Your Majesty, but if I may be so bold to speak?” When King Charles looked at James, his expression of losing his patience came swift.
Myra sent James a pleading look, and earnestly appealed to him for his aid. She needed to explain to The King that she wanted to wed Seth. She already informed James of her and Seth’s situation and if he still felt any affection in his heart for her, he would help her now. James hesitated, but after Myra sent him another beseeching expression, he returned to The King’s side.
“My brother, if you allow her a moment of indulgence,” he began. “I believe you may understand her reason for outburst. There are a great many details I didn’t elaborate on earlier. There are extenuating circumstances that I believe you may wish to hear before you place our dear cousin in a betrothal with our ever faithful Lord Sutherling.”
“And what is it that needs further explanation?” he asked James, more than a bit vexed. “Out of respect for my cousin, her father, I have arranged a good marriage, and she now dares to challenge my kindness?”
“Nay, Your Majesty, that isn’t my intent,” Myra exclaimed. “I truly appreciate your act of benevolence, but—”
“You shall be silent,” King Charles called out, annoyed. “Did you forget how to show obedience and respect for Your King since living in the colonies?”
Myra lowered her head, ashamed that she had taken such liberties thus far with Her King, despite their familial association, albeit distant. Surely he’d now be so angered insomuch that he wouldn’t agree to a marriage between her and Seth.
“The child entitled to Brunnington, Your Majesty,” James interrupted. “His father is to whom she wishes to wed.”
“The father?” he asked perplexed. “The child is not that of her husband who died?”
Myra looked up at The King and opened her mouth and closed it again, not sure if The King found it agreeable if she spoke.
“Speak,” he called out in frustration. “Now you may speak.”
“Nay, Your Majesty. The man I wish to marry killed my husband.” That surely didn’t sound appropriate, Myra thought regrettably as an afterthought. She turned to Seth and gave a crooked smile and silently mouthed her apologies.
The King looked properly shocked and poor Lord Sutherling took a few steps away from her. Dear Lord, she wondered how she could explain her situation suitably. “Your Grace, please, let me clarify,” Myra begged. The king huffed out, disgusted, and any hope that Myra had with ever being with Seth plummeted. And when the King waved his hand for her dismissal, all hope had died.
“Her husband was Frederickson, Your Majesty,” a voice called from the entry way. “Zachary Frederickson.” As the man approached the throne, he swept his heavily plumed Tricorne in the air and bowed before the king. “Excuse my intrusion, Your Grace.”
“Thomas!” Myra cried out. She resisted the urge to embrace him, but his warm, gentle eyes conveyed his intent, as always, on rescuing her.
“Your Grace, if I may be so bold to speak?” Thomas asked.
“By all means,” The King sarcastically quipped. “Twould appear there’s no order in my court on this day.” He shot a look of disparagement toward James.
“I apologize, Your Grace. I came to offer information that shall enlighten you.”
“Then by all means, give your account.”
“As you are aware, I was sent to the colonies as an indenture so I may return proof of Zachary Frederickson’s treason in regard to violating the Navigational Act.”
“Aye, aye, I’m aware of what your duties adhered. He’s been conspiring with the Spaniards, I know. I fail to see what that has to do with this situation!”
“Aye, he has been conspiring with the Spaniards, but he has also been responsible for piracy against our own English ships for their supplies, and thus why I have been gone so long.” He paused a moment and looked at The King thoughtfully. “Yet, his worse crime was discovered shortly after I arrived and exposed his true identity as being that of Zachary Ballentine.”
The King sat upright in his chair and stiffened. “My father’s traitor!”
“Aye,” Thomas said. “Among all his depraved deeds, tis his worse offense against the crown…a conspirator who was in part responsible for your father’s death. Her husband, Frederickson, was that man.”
“You married my enemy?’ he shouted at Myra.
“Not willingly, Your Majesty,” she said defensively.
“Continue,” The King ordered to Thomas.
“T’was when I was on the ship that I discovered young Myra. I recognized her immediately as Lord Brunnington’s daughter. T’was not until I sent a letter to England that I learned of her and her parent’s disappearance. There was obvious foul play involved when I saw her predicament. I took it upon myself to keep her safe once she arrived at Ballentine’s estate in the colonies.”
“That doesn’t explain to me why she married my enemy, Witcliff,” The King said.
“Without revealing my identity, I couldn’t prevent the marriage, Your Grace. Once Ballentine learned of her true identity, he set out and forced her into a marriage. T’was his plan to return to court as your new cousin-in-law, Your majesty. He hoped to find favour and forgiveness with you by way of familial loyalty.”
“Bah,” the king snorted out. “He could come to my court laced in gold and present himself to me as a gift, and I’d still cut him down where he stood.”
“Aye, but Ballentine was maddened. He was hopeful for a reunion with you, willing to do anything to regain your trust, and that included forcing Lady Myra into the unwanted marriage.”
“I’m beginning to understand,” The King offered. “Was this marriage consummated?” he asked.
“Nay, our marriage was only by name,” Myra replied.
“I see,” he nodded.
“What of this other man?” The King asked, “The child’s true father?”
The Duke pointed toward Seth who stood anxiously on the other side of the room. ‘“He’s the father and the one who’s responsible for killing our enemy Ballentine,” James offered.
“And what is the name of the man to whom I owe this debt of gratitude?”
“Seth Preston,” Myra said proudly. “He’s the son Anvil Preston of Virginia.”
“And what title is this man Anvil Preston?”
“He has no title,” Myra replied. “He’s a plantation owner, but he sits on the House of Burgess by your authority, Your Grace.”
“I see,” The King said less enthused. “You are aware that since Ashton’s debouched, your son is the only legitimate heir?”
“Aye, Your Majesty, I’m aware of this.”
This leaves me in a quandary,” The King said with a saddened nod of his head. “I cannot condone a marriage to a commoner when you have a son who needs taught in the ways of the lordship. Certainly you understand this.”
Myra didn’t respond. If she argued with The King, it’d surely only cause more harm to an already perplexed situation. As she predicted, her worse fears were confirmed. He’d not allow her marriage to Seth.
“On the other hand . . .” he said, and he raised his head and looked at Seth on the other side of the room.
Myra stood at attention and waited with bated breath. Her hands clinched nervously at her sides and so tightly that
her nails dug cuttingly deep within her palms.
“He has slain my enemy and I am indebted to him.” The King paused for a moment and sighed heavily. “I must think on this further. I’ll send word of my creed once I come to my decision.”
Myra bowed her head. “Aye, Your Majesty. I shall patiently await your judgment.”
Although it wasn’t the best scenario she hoped for, it did leave a semblance of hope that she and Seth may still be allowed together. At least, she thought, together by The King’s approval. Although the consequences would be great, she decided that if need be she’d defy The King to be with Seth. God help her, but she was willing to give up England before she gave up Seth.
Myra left Seth at court and walked inside the courtyard, and hoped to regain her strength after she felt exhausted by her distressed state after attending The King’s court. A loud ruckus on the other end of the courtyard caught her attention. Curious, she walked toward the sound, but then fully ran when she heard a man scream out.
“This is a travesty! Who’s made such claims against me?”
Myra halted and didn’t move. That voice, she knew it well. Her uncle! He turned toward her, and hatred blazed hauntingly in his eyes. Not daunted by his intensity, she returned his deathly stare.
“You!” he shouted. “You’ll pay for this, I swear it!”
Myra, unafraid, approached him. She boiled over with rage that had been bottled up the past couple years. She glared at him when she walked to him. “May God and King have no mercy on your soul,” she said, and spat in his face. Myra turned around and walked away, eager for The King’s punishment to be enacted upon him.
“It’s not over yet, Lady Myra,” her uncle yelled.
Myra turned around, and horrified, she watched as a dagger pierced the heart of one of The King’s guardsmen. It was thrown by an unknown assailant from inside the courtyard. But she fully grasped the scene when her uncle retrieved a small blade inside his boot and burrowed it deep within the belly of the other guard that had held him. The throng of people in the courtyard unknowingly shielded her uncle from being viewed by the other sentinels. Her uncle ran toward her and took sweeps at her throat with the knife and barely missed his mark. When he took a moment to check for more sentinels, he became distracted, and Myra used the opportunity to push him away and she ran toward the safety of The King’s castle.
“Myra,” she heard Thomas shout from across the way, and she saw him make his way toward her. When she turned and saw that her uncle still followed her, Thomas met her side. Zachary, too cowardly to face another man alone in battle, grabbed the reins of a nearby horse and mounted the steed.
“It’s not over yet!” he called out as the horse snorted and kicked, and its hooves flew into the air and prepared to dash away. Then his accomplice road forward and came into full view, revealing the burly man who had accompanied Ashton the night her parents were killed. “I’ll return for you Myra, I promise you that,” her uncle scathed out before he and his partner mixed within the passing carriages and vanished out of sight.
“Myra! Are you all right?”
“They’re getting away,” she shouted.
“Did he harm you?”
“Nay, I’m unhurt, but we must get assistance for the guards!”
Thomas looked out into the city and shook his head. “Don’t fret,” he assured Myra. “He’ll be found before dawn breaks.” He knelt down and examined the guard’s wounds. He shook his head and went to the other guardsman. “Tis not good,” he said, sorrowfully. “Go now and get help. Humphrey is dead, but Capshaw still breaths,” he said. He leaned down and held his ear in front of the man’s mouth. “But barely,” he added.
Myra made her way back into the castle with haste and retrieved a vassal from within who sought out the court’s physician.
To her relief, the one guardsman lived, but Myra wondered if she’d be as lucky if her uncle found her. She knew by the vengeful look in his eyes that he’d not give up until her blood flowed freely upon his hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“The King has made his decision,” Myra said, her voice trembled and the parchment crinkled in her hand. Anguish consumed her.
“We knew that it’d likely come to this, Myra. “Tis no surprise,” Seth said, and reached out and took her into his arms and embraced her tenderly.
“Tis unfair, Seth. It shouldn’t be this way,” she said angrily. She wondered why her cousin, as well as God, was being so unfair to her.
“Tis the way it is,” he soothed, and he rocked her gently in his arms.
“We don’t need his blessings, nor do we need Brunnington.” Myra straightened and a flash of determination struck her. “We can return to Jamestown, Seth. We can raise our son together there.”
“Tis not a request by The King, Myra,” he said sternly. “Per His Majesty’s order, you must marry Sutherling.”
“Then we’ll renounce his order and run away. We’ll take Jonathon and hide from The King where they’ll never find us.”
“You’re willing to give everything up, Myra?”
“Indeed!”
“Nay, Myra. I’ll not allow it.” Seth turned away, his breath heavy with sorrow.
“What are you saying?” She nervously laughed. “You’re truly not expecting me to marry another, are you? After all we’ve been through to be together, you would yield now?”
Seth cleared his throat, his face stern, and his voice commanding. “You’ll marry Lord Sutherling, Myra.”
“Nay! I’ll not do it. Why would you ask this of me?” Her stomach lurched and she felt that she would wretch. She stepped back until her legs met the window sill and she collapsed into the gold cushioned window seat. The birds outside mocked her with their cheerful chirps. How can anything sound happy when she sat there so miserable? When Seth turned around, his blue eyes glistened heavily with unreleased tears. She knew his heart ached as much as hers, but unlike her, he upheld a noble demeanor.
“Our son is entitled to the Brunnington seat, and all that it entails. What right do we have to take that away from him? His future is set, Myra. He’ll have wealth, respect, and title. I’ll not deprive him of that by our selfishness.”
“Those are not your words you speak, but the words of your father! You swore you’d not make his mistakes with your own son, Seth.”
“Tis not fair, Myra. We’re not discussing our fate, but that of our son. Decisions we make for ourselves is one issue, but I’ll not be accountable for stealing Jonathon’s birthright. So help me God, he’ll get what is due him.”
He reached for her but Myra shrugged him off, turned around, and looked out the window. “Can you live without knowing your son, Seth?” she murmured. “Your son shall grow and know another man as his father. Can you truly live with that?”
Seth didn’t answer.
“And what of me?” she continued. “Can you tell me true and say it’d not bother you to know that the same man who your child will call father will also call me wife, and shall be sharing my bed? Does that matter naught to you?”
Again, Seth didn’t answer. Myra closed her eyes and resigned herself to the anger that nearly toppled her. “I see,” she spat out. “Then take your leave, Seth! If it matters naught to you, then by all means leave!”
“Myra,” he began.
“Nay,” she said and waved him off. “If that is your resolution, be sure of it now, for it shall be too late by dawn. If that is what you wish for us, it’s what I shalt do!”
“Myra, this is what’s right for you and our son. You have to understand that. If we do not obey The King, we’d be forced to live secretly. Jonathon would have to hide! Is that what you want for him? You know I love you, Myra, and that shalt never change. You must never doubt that.”
Myra stood by the window and watched the lavish carriages and well-dressed women and gentlemen of London society go by. They all looked so full of merriment. Myra thought a moment and tried to remember when she last felt happiness. It
was a lifetime ago. She had hoped her time was then, as she had paid her penance for offenses she never committed. Yet her current situation was nearly as bad, if not worse, than what she had already endured. Myra felt that they deserved better than what was dealt to them. They’ve suffered too much not to be together. It angered her that Seth was willing to give up. Why wouldn’t he fight for her…for them?
After years of misled influence that Anvil placed upon him, what more could she expect? Hadn’t wealth and power always guided Anvil? Wasn’t that what Anvil embedded in Seth’s mind, too? He tried to be honorable. Misguided, but honorable nonetheless, and she couldn’t fault him for that. It was Jonathon he was looking out for, as his father had looked out for him.
Seth hadn’t spoken another word as she sat in thought. She turned around, prepared to beg him into fighting for their love, even if it meant her begging at The King’s feet. But Seth was gone.
Without her aware, he had already quit the room.
* * *
The day’s light was nearly diminished and the time closed in for her return to The King’s court and wed Sutherling. Seth didn’t return, and Thomas’s attempts produced futile results when he looked for him. She wondered if had already found passage and began his journey back to Jamestown. Her heart ached. She wanted to scream, forget all that took place the previous few days. Not only did she need to contend with being Sutherling’s new bride, but she now fretted over her uncle’s escape and his vengeful words at time of parting. The King sent forth sentinels to find him, but they still hadn’t returned with any word of their success.
A knock at the door brought her out of reverie and she rushed and answered the call. Thomas greeted her, his face saddened and full of regret.
“I apologize, milady,” he said. “I tried my best, but Seth still cannot be found. There is talk that he may be headed for the docks, though. I shall be sending men forth to explore that further. I also discovered information about your uncle, as well as an update on the other matter you requested that I inquire about.”
Bittersweet Endeavors Page 20
