Chapter 8: Undaunted
Mary was sick to her stomach as she and Bash left the king's audience room. Her mother remained behind, seeming to think there was more to be discussed with the French monarch, but Mary couldn't stand being in his presence another moment. There was something not quite right about King Henry. She had seen a maniacal gleam in his eye when he was forcing them to his terms. Henry was often harsh, even cruel, but this was something else entirely.
The moment the door closed behind them, Bash turned to her, placing his hand on her arm as he had so often before. Somehow now it wasn't enough. Mary cringed at the distance between them. Bash noticed.
"Mary, we will get through this."
"Will we Bash? How can you be so sure?"
"Because I believe in us," Bash said simply, eyes rapidly scanning the hallway around them for threats from unfriendly ears or swords, either one.
"We've been married less than a day. If we were any other newlyweds we would be in a carriage headed away from this cursed place on our honeymoon. Instead we're trapped here pretending our wedding never happened and under threat from a man who is clearly losing his mind!" Her shrill tone betrayed the panic threatening to overpower her.
Bash glanced around again, and spotting what he was looking for, grabbed Mary's hand and started walking quickly to a small alcove nearby.
Mary let herself be led, still overwrought by what had just happened. "Bash, why aren't you worried about this? How can you just take this in stride?" Hearing her control slipping, Bash quickened his pace.
As soon as they reached the relative seclusion of the alcove, Bash quickly turned and kissed her deeply, one hand wrapped in her hair, the other arm around her waist grasping her to him. Mary froze, terror at being seen by King Henry paralyzing her momentarily, but it seemed as if Bash was intent on subduing her fear with the strength of his kiss.
In the face of Bash's relentless passion Mary's panic slowly subsided, and she relaxed into his embrace, enjoying the closeness. As he deepened the kiss, her fear was finally buried under her desire, and she fully returned his kiss with equal passion. Bash took a step back, surprised by the sudden surge of Mary's body pressing forward against him, and broke off the kiss. Seeing his bride's eyes alight with desire, Bash captured her mouth again briefly for a slower, more tender kiss, before finally releasing her lips.
Still holding her around the waist, hand cupping her cheek, Bash smiled at her with his quiet smile. "Now, what was it you were worrying about?" he asked.
Mary's returning smile was weak. She placed a hand on the wrist of his arm grasping her face and leaned her cheek into his caress. "I was worrying that we wouldn't be able to have moments like that."
"I think we just proved that we can." There was merriment in Bash's eyes.
"Bash, how can you be so at ease with all of this!" Mary said, stepping back from him and looking around hastily to see if anyone was approaching their alcove. "We can't be seen acting this way or Henry will withdraw his support for your legitimization! We can't admit we're married or England will grasp for my throne!" Mary heard the panic creep into her own voice again but felt powerless to stop it.
Bash gave an impatient sigh. "I'm not at ease with it. I hate it as much as you do. But if we let ourselves be intimidated by them, then we are letting them win." He squeezed Mary's hands. "We are married, and nothing they say or do will change that. It doesn't matter whether anyone else knows it. We know it. I love you, Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, and I will always love you."
Bash had that look of adoration in his eyes, and looking at him looking at her, Mary was transported back to the first moment she gave in to that pull between them – that kiss by the lake. Then in rapid succession she thought of the long chain of other moments between then and now. Bash had always been there, always loving her. The panic subsided again, and she wondered how she could ever have mistaken her infatuation for Francis for love. Standing before her was the real thing. There was only one possible answer to his words.
"And I love you, Sebastian de Poitiers. I know it took me a long time to realize it, but I do."
Bash radiated joy at hearing her unequivocally admit it aloud at last. He jubilantly declared, "I don't care if I live for one day or for ten thousand. I have loved you and been loved by you, and that makes my life worth having lived."
Mary's reply was more sedate. "But I don't think I could stand it if I only had one day with you, Bash. We must be careful in public not to be too free with our affection, or people will begin to suspect."
Bash nodded. "All right. We will play Henry's game. It will make it all the sweeter when we succeed at last."
"I'm just sorry I won't be able to wake up every morning the way you woke me up this morning," Mary said a little saucily, her pluckiness finally returning.
Bash had a ready answer for that. "Lucky for us there's a secret passage to your chambers then."
Mary rewarded her cheeky husband with a kiss. He made her believe anything was possible. The odds might seem stacked against them, but in this moment Mary felt confident there was a bright future waiting for them just on the other side of this wall Henry had tried to build between them. And she intended to reach that future.
