Chapter XIII: Cicely Guildford

IT was a relief to Miles when his father left him, and later that day he was able to pay Master William Tyndale a call, and almost the first news he heard was of the visit of the stranger, who came to have a matter of conscience settled, the question being about a marriage that was exactly parallel with that of the King. "And what was Master Tyndale's judgment upon the matter?" asked Miles, anxiously, for he had no doubt but that it concerned himself and Lady Audrey.

He had not mentioned his friend, or the translation of the New Testament to his father, for he felt sure he would not approve of such a thing being done, and so he did not know that his father had ever heard the name of Master Tyndale, though he had taken him to St. Dunstan's Church to hear him preach.

It was therefore some relief, and a source of amusement too, when he heard what Master Tyndale had said about the proposed marriage, and there was some hearty laughter at Sir Thomas Paton's expense when the Monmouth family heard the news.

It made a talk, too, in city circles, but, when the King was mentioned as having made just such a marriage, men spoke with bated breath, though they thought the more, perhaps, upon the matter.

Feeling assured now that his father was not likely to press forward this plan, Miles was the more eager to see Mistress Cicely Guildford again, and ascertain for himself whether his father's surmise was correct,—that the young lady felt kindly towards him.

But autumn was deepening into winter before he could go to Greenwich again, and then he went in attendance upon his master, for the Cardinal never went anywhere without a train of servants and several secretaries in attendance upon him; and it was not until they had been at the palace two or three days that he was free to go into the town and visit his friends.

When he got there he found one of the younger girls in the garden, gathering the last of the dill, and tarragon, and other herbs that were in such continual demand for cookery.

Miles looked round, expecting to see the elder sister at this task, for he knew that Cicely always took the lead in these matters.

Saucy Mistress Maud saw the look, and said instantly, "Cicely is not here; she has gone to the Convent of St. Francis."

"Gone to the convent!" repeated Miles. "When will she be back?"

It was the girl's turn to exclaim now, "Whenever does a girl come back from a convent?"

"But you mean she has gone to pay a visit for the day to one of the lay sisters," said Miles, in a tone of trembling anxiety.

The tremble in the young man's voice arrested the girl's attention, and, though she was only a girl, she felt there was trouble in store for the friend whom they had all learned to love. She put down the herbs she had been gathering, and came close to where he was standing. "I don't think Cicely liked it," she whispered; "at the very last I saw her crying several times, and I wished you would come, for I thought, perhaps, if you knew you might—"

"Yes, yes; but tell me, she has not gone to become a nun?" panted Miles.

The girl nodded. "You see the Queen liked her, and that is always what she wishes for her favourites,—that they should join a sisterhood. She would become a nun herself if she could."

"Well, I heartily wish she would then, and perhaps when she knew what it was like she would leave young girls to live a natural life."

He spoke very bitterly; and Maud Guildford could only look and wonder, for she had never seen the young secretary in this mood before.

While they were standing there Lady Guildford came into the garden; and, when Miles had bowed and greeted her, he asked quickly why Cicely had gone to the convent.

A shadow passed over the lady's face. "It was not to please herself," she said, "but it was in fulfilment of a promise given to the Queen several years ago. We postponed its fulfilment as long as we could," she added, "for we did not like parting with our home bird, Cicely being such a help and comfort to us at home."

"Yes, yes, I know; and now you have sent her away," groaned Miles.

The lady looked at him, as Maud had done. Surely there was more than mere friendship here, she thought; and then she wondered whether her darling had carried this secret love with her to the convent, to make her life bitter with regrets through all the slow years that must pass over her head.

Her eyes filled with tears, and she still held the young man's hand as she said, "Life is full of such sorrows!"

"Yes, it may be," said Miles, bitterly, "but who sends them? Who makes them? Who has condemned Cicely and me to a life-long sorrow? I came to-day to tell you that I loved your daughter better than life, and to ask if I might win her love in return, and I am told that only death can give her to me now! Is this fair? Is this just? You say my Cicely did not go to please herself, but the Queen. What right has even Queen Catherine to blight two young lives? She is a good woman all are agreed, but it is also said she would be happier in the convent than at the Court. Yet what right has she to condemn another to such a life?"

In his bitter disappointment Miles forgot where he was, or to whom he was speaking, but the lady knew that incautious words were often carried to the Court, and even to the Queen and young Princess, and so, for fear mischief should follow upon it, she drew Miles into the house, where they could at least talk over the matter without fear of being overheard.

But the more Miles said, the more convinced the lady became that Cicely fully reciprocated his affection, and that it was the hope of seeing her lover once more that had made the girl watch so often and so wistfully at the windows for a day or two before she went away. She told Miles of this now, but it seemed rather to increase his distress than to comfort him, to hear that Cicely might really have loved him, as his father said she did; and he held up his hand, and said in a hoarse whisper, "Do not make my burden harder than I can bear. To think that she, my darling Cicely, is in the convent. But giving all her mind and strength to its duties is bad enough, but to think of her pining for the life we might have lived together, would be more than I could endure. Certainly I shall try every means to get her released, and I have much influence now, and the vows are not irrecoverable."

The lady shuddered. Hard as her child's lot might be, it would be harder for everybody if she should dare to draw back, even though she was as yet only a novice; for in the sight of the Queen she had been a pledged nun for several years. Cicely had rather enjoyed the little distinction this gave her among the immediate circle of the Queen's ladies, and it had not been difficult for her to leave the more merry of the Court festivities, for she loved the quiet of her own home far more than the glare, and glitter, and gossip of the Court—even that which surrounded the Queen, which was far more sedate than where the King held undivided rule.

So she had been called "the little nun" for several years past, because of her quiet domestic ways and pleasures, and it seemed to those who only knew her about the Court that it was only natural that she should become a nun in reality when she was old enough to take the vows; and they rather wondered that this had been delayed so long, than that Cicely had gone so early to the convent.

But this Court gossip had not reached her home, where Miles alone knew her, and where she was always a merry, happy girl, while thoughtful and careful to spare her mother trouble, and take her full share in the domestic work that fell to the share of all ladies in those days.

It was this carefulness to be at hand when any domestic work was going forward that made Miles look for her expectantly, when he saw her sister in the garden gathering herbs, for it was this side of Cicely's character that he knew. It was the quiet thoughtfulness that reminded him of his sister, and had won his attention and regard, which so slowly and imperceptibly changed into love, that he knew not that it was there until his father's over-anxious eyes detected it.

It may have been that some prying Court gossip had also penetrated their secret, and warned the Queen that if her little nun of the Court was ever to be a veritable nun of the convent, there was no time to lose in placing her within its shadow; for the arrangements had been pressed on by the Queen in great haste at last, and there was little time given to consider the momentous step that was to be taken.

When Sir Harry came home from his duties at the palace, and heard from his wife the state of affairs, he was greatly concerned.

"Witless knave that I am!" he exclaimed, "I might have guessed that the little wench would smile on such a gallant as Master Miles."

"But what good would it have served?" asked his wife, "even if Master Miles had told us three months agone that he loved her; you forget our word to the Queen, that she should go to the convent as soon as time served."

"I am not likely to forget my duty to the Queen, good dame; but my duty to my child lies even closer than that, and I should have made suit to the Queen, that my promise and yours was given without Cicely's consent, and how she had by her own unwitting love for this man made it impossible for me to carry it out."

"But you are not sure that Cicely does love him," said his wife.

"Ah dame, I wish I could believe she did not, for what you now tell me has made clear to me several things that I noticed in our little wench before she went away. Would to God I had known of this earlier, and I would have saved her from our rash promise, even though I offended the Queen, and had to give up my post at Court for it."

Lady Guildford looked at her husband, and wondered whether she was prepared to go to such a length as this. They were not wealthy people, and their rank imposed upon them many expenses they could not afford before they came to Greenwich, where they could now live in ease and luxury, instead of almost pinching poverty, as they had to do before.

This might be the price they would have had to pay for holding their daughter back from the convent, in the face of the Queen's wish that she should go there; and in the silence that followed both were asking themselves whether they were prepared to pay such a price for their child's future happiness.

Possibly if they had thought it likely that the Cardinal's young secretary would ask for her hand in marriage, they might have delayed a little longer sending her to the convent, but no such thought had crossed the minds of either mother or father. To them Cicely was already appropriated to the service of the Church, and there the matter ended so far as they were concerned.

They would gladly have welcomed Miles as a son-in-law, if they had known his secret in time, but now they could only think with sorrow that it had come too late. "Too late!" Ah, bitter, bitter words when their thoughts turned to the convent, where their child was shut away from the joys of life, as wife and mother; and where there was only too good reason to fear she would ever be looking back with vain regret to the time when she and Miles met in free and happy friendship, that had grown deeper and more lasting, until it changed to love's supreme joy and sorrow.

Miles had been left for Maud and the younger children to entertain, while Sir Harry and Lady Guildford had been talking; and before they went to join the young people, the lady said, "Do not speak of what you think concerning Cicely."

"Why not, good dame? It may comfort the lad to know that she cared for him before she went away, though it were sin for such a thought to be encouraged now. I will be wary though, do not doubt, for the lad has sorrow enough just now."

Sir Harry Guildford had no intention of doing more than speaking a few kindly courteous words, that should let the young man know that his suit would have prospered if Cicely had not been beyond their reach. Somehow the children got an idea that they were not wanted just then, and so Miles was left alone with his host; and the kindly words and sympathetic tone were too much for his firmness just then, and before he was aware of it, Miles was telling Cicely's father a good deal of what he might have told her if she had been at home; and the baronet listened, and at last told Miles that he believed Cicely fully returned his love, although no words had been spoken between them.

When he heard this, a marvellous change seemed to come over Miles.

"You tell me truly, Sir Harry?" he almost demanded in his eager impulsiveness, for all at once the sorrow that was almost tearful in its tenderness, had changed to something that was akin to desperation, as he said, "This has changed all things for me!"

"What do you mean?" asked Sir Harry, looking up in surprise, for Miles had started from his seat, and looked as though he would storm the convent itself to rescue Cicely.

"Sit down lad, sit down, there is nothing to be done," said Cicely's father sadly.

"Nothing to be done!" repeated Miles. "I thought so a few minutes ago when I believed I was the only one to suffer this heartache, but now you tell me my Cicely has suffered, and will suffer the same, do you think I can say there is nothing to be done? She is but a novice as yet, and there is time for her to change her mind, and if she will only say she does not fully assent to take the vows required of her, my master will absolve her from all that has been done, and she will be free to leave the convent."

"Yes, as a foresworn nun, whom all men will despise," said Sir Harry, in a tone of bitterness.

Miles stared at him as though he did not understand. "Do you wish your daughter to languish out her days in this convent that is but little better than a prison? I believe that women as well as men, can serve God better in doing the work of the world, be it ever so humble, than in being shut away from their fellows to brood and pine for the sunlight of God's love, and human love, which is as sunlight in this dark world. No! no! Sir Harry, I must fight for the sunlight now—fight for it for my Cicely as well as for myself. You have given me something to work and strive for, and with it has come the strength. We may have to wait long and work hard, before we can hope to see each other again; but from this hour I shall hope, and that will nerve me to struggle against all difficulties. Now will you tell me all you know about the convent. If I may not see my Cicely, I may at least look upon the roof that covers her."

But Sir Harry feared that Miles would commit some rash deed in his present temper—climb the convent wall perhaps, and bring trouble and disgrace upon Cicely as well as upon himself.

So instead of telling him just where the convent was situated, he persuaded him to go back with him to the Palace of Placentia at once, as he had heard the Cardinal enquiring for one of his secretaries before he left.

Miles had little fear that he was the secretary wanted, but still he was specially desirous of pleasing his master just now, and so he readily gave up the idea of going to the convent, and returned to the palace with the King's controller, talking, as they went, of the steps that must be taken, if Cicely was to be rescued before the first year of her novitiate was at an end.

Sir Harry was in favour of approaching the Queen and laying the whole matter before her, while Miles thought it would be wiser to seek the counsel and help of his master. As Cardinal Legate he would have the power to grant a dispensation dissolving the preliminary vows already taken, and the sooner the business could be set on foot the better.

Miles knew, though he did not tell his friend, that his master would be ready to do anything that was likely to vex the Queen; for the Papal Crown had again eluded his grasp, mainly through the duplicity of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, the nephew of the Queen; and great as he was, the Cardinal was not above paying off such slights and affronts. And so to hear that Cicely was one of the Queen's ladies, who had been half forced, half persuaded, to enter the convent by the Queen, would powerfully aid in getting her out again, if the Cardinal was to be the person approached upon the subject.

So, without stating the reason why he thought so, Miles said he was sure the Cardinal would be more ready to help them on Cicely's behalf than the Queen was likely to be; and so it was settled that Miles should seek an opportunity of laying the whole matter before his master.