The day of the ball saw the weather so bleak and blustery that even the soundest of imaginations could scarcely wonder if it would ever be clear again. Snowy conditions all across the area have shown no signs of stopping, along with ice on the rivers, lakes, and windowsills where everything ushers in the cold. There was a sense of unbearable gloom around Somerset- the kind of gloom that makes one melancholy even though there's nothing to be sad for. It's poetic, really, especially at Christmas. But despite the miserable weather, the Seymour household was in great spirits.

Wolf Hall was full of merrymaking, and the servants were scurrying about like mice putting together the final event and Yuletide details. The crisp cold air appeared to laugh along with them. It was lively, especially in the kitchen, where the feast was prepared with expert hands and thoughtful consideration. There's nothing better than food, cheer, and song; the kitchen staff had all three at their disposal, humming as they worked.

And elsewhere, the Duchess was readying the Christmas baskets for the Abbey. With Yule only three days away, Mary wanted to get the treats into Sister Clara's (the head Prioress) capable hands for distribution. As soon as the final festive bow was tied, the servants loaded each abundant and ample container onto a cart, covering them with old blankets to protect them from the elements.

The Duchess's carriage and cart were whisked away from the manor's door when the last basket was packed as speedy as a flash of lightning. Since there was a break in the weather, Mary figured now would be the only time suitable to venture out. It was only herself going since she needed the ladies to stay behind for last-minute ball arrangements. Edward didn't know this because if he did, she could imagine his face and the displeasure it would hold. But what he doesn't won't hurt him, at least that's what she told herself.

The Duchess could hardly contain the day's excitement, dressed in an icy green embroidered gown that appeared to embody the season and the chill. Her hands fiddled with the fraying ends of a blanket thrown over her legs, but Mary's mind kept going over the basket list to tell Sister Clara. The ride took longer than usual, which was fine because it allowed the Duchess more time to review the basket information. What would typically take a half mile in the carriage turned into a full two because of the weather. But not even a thing like heavenly elements can stop charity and goodwill.

The Prioress and nuns made haste to greet their special guest when the carriage pulled to a complete stop in front of the Abbey. Sister Clara and Mary took tea in the head office as the baskets were unloaded. It was then the Duchess shared the information about all the items that were gathered to fill each hand-woven container. You see, it's one thing to receive a basket as a gift, but it's another to receive a hand-made one, especially if an artisan in the region makes it.

That prompted the two ladies to discuss the Somerset region's learning and the local economy. Both agree that more artisans like the basket maker should be discovered and promoted across the area and maybe even the kingdom through craft and trade guilds. By the end of their tea, they had decided to meet again to discuss forming a lady's auxiliary group to help oversee women's and children's care and a crafter's guide.

Sister Clara thanked the Duchess for her time and consideration. "We are most grateful for the Yule baskets. You have no idea how much this will mean to those families suffering from want during the season."

The Prioress saw her companion to the carriage, where the driver helped Mary inside. When the Duchess returned to the confines of the vehicle, her heart felt full. It's not how much a person gives, but the love they put into it, and Her Grace has placed a lot of care into the Yule baskets carrying on her mother's tradition. As she stared out the window with the Abbey following behind, her smile was as glistening as the icicles hanging from the outside. Nothing could dampen the joyful mood except getting stuck in the soggy, boggy snow.

That was precisely what happened. The carriage was stuck. It would not budge. The driver came around and explained that he'd have to take one of the horses and ride to the manor for help. Mary did not like that idea, but what could she do? It would aid nothing to complain, and with her being a noblewoman, it would be unseemly to ride in the weather herself. So, she bid the man hurry and draped the thick blanket over her legs.

All types of worry overcame her sensibilities as she waited, especially the concern over what the Duke would say. Edward will be so disappointed and probably close to yelling; Mary's father would be. She can feel her husband's aggrieved tension all the way from here. And when the Duchess wasn't thinking of Edward, she considered robbers and hooligans on the road who want nothing more than to cause trouble and harm. None of these things made the wait comfortable. In fact, it made the delay fraught with fear and anxiety. So the time passed in prayer (with her eyes open).

It wasn't until hoofprints were heard that Mary felt slightly at ease, but not much because a delinquent could be coming upon her. Unfortunately, there was nothing to defend herself with except knitting needles, which she grabbed from the basket. When the carriage door opened wide, Mary was ready to use the needles or explain her reasoning for going out alone to Edward, whichever came first. Her breath had been drawn to speak, and her hands clutched her only weapon. However, it wasn't Edward at all, nor a criminal. Instead, it was, "Sir Thomas, how delighted I am that you've come to my service."

Her brother-in-law held his slender hand and wore a charming smile on his devilishly handsome face. Mary loosened her grip on the needles and let out a breath as Thomas spoke. "I was traveling back to Wolf Hall and couldn't help but notice the emblem on the carriage. It seems like you've run into some trouble, and since I'm going to the same place, you can ride with me. Glad to be of service, my lady. Although, it's disappointing to know you were left alone in the cold. I'll have a word with the Duke about that."

The Duchess lightly smiled, took the proffered hand, and stepped down. It wasn't at all like Edward's strong, steady one but somewhat clammy, which was unpleasant. She ended up wiping her hand on the side of her dress. The two climbed into the Baron's carriage and drove toward home.

On the way, the pair sat in awkward silence, with Mary picking at an embroidered flower on her dress, until Thomas spoke. "I can't imagine how dull you must find my brother. He's not very adventurous. I wonder if he ever stops being so serious, perhaps when he sleeps."

Sensing that this would be a gripe session about her husband and understanding that the Baron was trying to get her to tattle, Mary politely told him, "Edward is a wonderful man. I couldn't have asked for a better husband."

Ignoring his sister-in-law, Thomas added, "He is consistent and controlled. I give Edward that. I don't know how vibrant a lady as yourself can bear to put up with him."

The annoyance started to rise in Mary's chest. Ironically, she was the one who had been telling the Duke to make nice with his younger brother, but now Mary understands what he had been trying to explain all along about him. She wouldn't sit there and let this man belittle her husband. Her blue eyes flashed as the Duchess calmly stated, "It's better to be dull than dangerous."

Before the Baron could speak, Mary shared another thought. "You can continually see a thing, and it becomes tiresome in perception. But let a fresh pair of eyes look at it, and it turns into something new and breathtaking. It's all a matter of perspective. You see, a jewel is nothing more than a simple rock until it's put under immense heat and pressure. Incredible things seem to hide in places people often overlook."

That silenced Thomas and put an end to the conversation, for which the Duchess was thankful. It gave her time to reflect on the person opposite her. She concluded that the man was petty, jealous, and someone she'd have to keep an eye on because people like that stir up trouble wherever they go. Which bade the question, where exactly had Sir Thomas gone earlier? Mary would subtly inquire about his whereabouts with Dollie and Edward.

The ride was quiet, and when the carriage pulled to Wolf Hall's door, it was met by many servants and the Duke's towering presence. The brothers shared questioning looks, ending with Edward thanking Thomas, who wandered off to someplace in the house. This act left the married couple alone, which made Mary nervous, judging by the countenance on her husband's face.

She opened her mouth to speak but was stalled by the rise of a single hand. Edward raised his hand to shush her, and Mary knew he was entirely unhappy. She knew the best treatment for those afraid, lonely, or unhappy was to go outside where they could be unattended and attuned to the heavens, nature, and God because the good Lord wishes to see people joyful amidst the simple backdrop of nature. However, that was an impossible feat today, with the cold and the snow.

As it stands, the Duchess followed the Duke inside the house and to an unused sitting room, where he closed the door. Words have always swirled around Mary like snowflakes- each delicate and distinct, melting untouched in her dainty hands. But sometimes words are not enough. And so Her Grace stood silent, watching her husband as he collected himself and his thoughts. It's ironic how silence can be so loud.

She's learned that when he's upset about something, it's best to let the man get it out instead of burrowing it deep inside until it festers, which he sometimes does. Further to that point, Mary has also realized that arguing with Edward is okay- that he isn't going to love her any less because they disagree on things. After all, long-term, life-long relationships are about weathering the hills and valleys together.

When the man had finally gathered his wits, he slowly turned to examine his wife, and Mary shivered. He had a hurt and disappointed look in his eyes, and suddenly shame overcame her. The Duchess's blue eyes were downcast. She couldn't glance at him anymore. Edward neared her and put his hands behind his back. His voice let her into his thoughts, "Clearly, God was in an amusing mood today."

Mary's eyes snapped upward to gaze at the man before her, who continued his talk. "He must have thought it a good time for my wife to traipse about the village unassisted, only to get stuck in the snow. Then find herself carted home in the carriage of my dreadful brother. Yes, the Lord must have thought I needed that entertainment while I worried about my wife's safety."

The Duchess said, "I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"Think! No, you didn't think," He told her.

It was as if a tight, constricting cage had fallen around Mary at that moment. There was nowhere to run or hide. She couldn't escape. Instead, she was trapped by her own irresponsibility and deficiency, which made her feel entirely inadequate, especially under the scrutiny and scruples of Edward. That's when her old flaws returned to mock her inside the cage like they had prowled the world over, searching for the right time to reappear. And it made Mary miserable.

Edward, though upset, noticed his wife continue to shrink on herself. That wouldn't do. He knows this demeanor is unsatisfactory to the end goals or the conversation as a whole. So the Duke positioned himself directly in front of her and brought his hand to rest on her soft cheek, which he gave a tender caress to before dropping it by his side. Then asserted, "I think you are a brilliant and magnetic woman. You have a kind and considerate heart, sometimes too gracious and generous. You are more attractive than anyone I've ever met. Yet for all of that, you're independent, with a good sense of humor. But it behooves me to wonder what went on in your clever mind to possess you to leave the house without a guard or anyone?"

More than anything, Mary hated being chastised or put under the microscope and usually balked at or challenged it, whichever felt right at the moment. However, being chastened or scrutinized by Edward was different, especially since she knew he cared for her and had her best interests at heart. And really, at the heart of the matter, she dislikes her weaknesses being displayed in front of him because it only makes her feel like a disappointment to the Duke, which Mary so often feels regarding her father.

Anyone can hide or run away from difficult discussions, but that won't solve anything, especially with people you love. So, the Duchess had to face the reality she created and work through this with Edward. It's the only way it makes you strong as a person and couple. Mary was humbled and wore a meek expression as she tried to explain the events. "When the weather broke, I wanted to get the Yule baskets to the Abbey. That was my only thought and concern. I needed the girls to stay behind and finish the ball details. Indeed, I didn't think things through, but I never believed the carriage would become stuck or that Thomas would be the one to come to my aid. I made a mess of the morning and take full responsibility for it."

As she stared at Edward, Mary realized what he had felt. He had felt fear. Everyone has a weak spot, no matter who a person is or their station in life. Despite best efforts, that's the one thing that will always bring someone to their knees, regardless of how strong they are otherwise. Right that very second, the Duchess knew this man's deep affection for her, and it was almost too much to bear.

Mary held his gaze and whispered, "I love you, Edward."

She leaned forward and touched his face in the same manner in which he had done to her. A single caress on the cheek made him close his blue eyes. "I know and love you too, Mary," he responded. Then his eyes opened, and he added, "But in the future, don't disregard my love by acting foolish because you must know that it was incredibly errant to go alone in this weather. As a noblewoman and daughter of the King, being stranded on the roadside is an opportunity for some deviant to take advantage of. I could not carry the weight of losing you."

Tears leaked out of her eyes, and Mary pondered all the should-have-dones and could-have-dones, but they were all past tense. There's nothing to do about it now except vow to avoid making the same mistake twice. She attempted to do good but ended up failing her husband. Sometimes you have to compromise to do the right thing instead of the best thing, which the Duchess learned from this situation.

As Mary rebuked herself, Edward earnestly stated, "A good woman is hard to find. Not every man is as fortunate as I am."

Her heart clenched, and she threw her arms about the Duke. They stood wrapped in each other's embrace like a lyric loves a melody. The beat of Edward's heart soothed Mary. He still let his love shine through despite his strong admonishment of her careless behavior. That's not something to take lightly, and because of it, a significant decision was reached.

Her husband has been patient, waiting for the right time to consummate their marriage, partly due to her nervousness and somewhat because of his respect. They've pushed the limits lately with touches in intimate places, but the Duchess knows for sure that now is the proper time to give herself entirely to this man. You don't need water to feel like you're drowning. That's what Her Grace wants- to drown in her husband. And she longs for it.

After a kiss on the lips that promised something more, Mary maneuvered throughout the rest of the day. Her thoughts were consumed with her husband and how she wanted to crawl so deep inside his heart that a tree is planted with roots extending so far down that neither knows where one ends and the other begins. Those novel ideas she's never held before are very potent because all the Duchess can think of is him- his hands, lips, face, arms, chest with lightly spattered hair, eyes that see into her soul, and every part of him covered or uncovered.

When Mabel pulled her back to reality, Mary was almost to the brink of carrying herself into his office and sensually sprawling across his desk. The ladies were inspecting the ballroom a final time when the brunette noticed, "You look flushed. Do you need to go lie down? There should be time before we all need to begin getting ready."

Those comments made Mary blush from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. If only Mabel knew what was happening inside her mind. Instead, the Duchess answered, "Thank you, Mabel, but I'm fine. I have a lot on my mind, but I believe all will be well after tonight."

Mabel and Cecily agreed. The women continued the review and then went their separate ways to start their personal preparations. These preparations proved as irritating as a nasty rash to Mary. The dress she had planned to wear did not suit her purposes now that the huge, life-changing decision had been reached. Now a different dress was needed. One that would make Edward's toes curl, but what one? Her fingers ghosted over gown after gown, but none seemed right.

Finally, her eyes rested on a few dresses at the back of the wardrobe. These were some that became forgotten, although looking at them, the Duchess understood why. On a whim, she had created some daring numbers with low necklines, sheered bodices, and sleeveless arms. Knowing she'd never have any reason to wear them but not wanting to sell them, Mary set the dresses in the back. However, that could no longer be said since there is somewhere and someone to clothe herself for. That alone is a thrilling proposition. Her Grace wants nothing more than to wear the gown with the barely there neckline that sheers into the bosom, which is fully covered by embroidered florals. But as Edward said, she's a Duchess and a daughter of the King, so it would not do to wear that dress to the first ball she hosts. Instead, she settled on the dress with the black sheered half-sleeves, flowing into a strapless bust area adorned with flowers and a full blush tulle skirt. Yes, it would do nicely.

After a bath of lightly scented rose oil and sitting for her long auburn hair to be styled, Mary put on the dress. It illuminated all of the womanly curves in the right places. Even her maids said so, along with how the Duke would faint on sight because, according to them, "His Grace has never had a woman take care for how he would see her. He's never had a woman consider him like you do, My Lady."

Though her husband might not have had a woman's mindful attention before, Edward has hers now. He has all her love and affection- crazy, complicated, passionate, sometimes painful, yet true devotion. Because love, Mary has come to know, isn't finding someone to escape reality with but having someone to make reality worthwhile. Her Duke is that man. He makes life better.

When the last simple but elegant jewels were put in place, the Duchess stood and viewed herself in the mirror. Everything seemed as perfect as perfect could be. Her nerves twisted into a giant knot inside her stomach while waiting for Edward. A list of prominent people in Somerset went over Mary's mind until a familiar knock sounded. Her heart sped up as the Duke entered the room.

The surprise written on his face was worth all the kingdom's gold. His blue eyes shown in the light, and his nerves wound themself full force. But he didn't let it overtake him. Rather he stood in rapt attention of his wife, beholding her beauty and elegance.

Mary smiled and shyly asked, "Do you like it?"

No woman has ever given a fig as to what he thought about her appearance, yet his wife, the most beautiful woman he's ever beheld, bothered enough to ask. As if Edward could be any more taken with her than he already was, he answered, "You have me completely."

That was the only response Mary needed. She moved to kiss his lips, and he held her, not wanting to let go. It served to make the Duchess anticipate what would happen later. They held hands exiting the chamber, down the stairs and took their place to greet the guests that arrived for the ball. It became clear that the weather would not stop Somerset from enjoying the festive Yule Ball for all its distinguished guests and subjects appeared. Wolf Hall was full of people.

No one who wasn't having a good time could be found, nor without something nice to say. Dollie, Mabel, and Cecily danced the night away in the arms of single, unmarried men, while Thomas did the same with the females. Although Mary noted her brother-in-law took a liking to the daughter of a Baron as he seemed to continue going back to the girl for more dances. But it was the Duke, himself, that intrigued most attendees.

Everyone there knew of his reputation as a respectable, intelligent, placid man. He's not given to flights of fancy or fits of fervidity. But there the man is, dancing, laughing, and frolicking as if he's always done so. And as the people observed His Grace, they realized his wife brought about this change. Her presence granted him a certain freedom that he hadn't had before. It makes him better. It makes him more alive.

That's how Edward feels- alive. His Duchess has woven her spell on him, and he never wants to be free of it. Even now, looking at her smile, it feels like the first warm day of spring that comes after a lifetime of snow. Her smile is like remembering how summer feels on the backs of your bare calves & the sun on your face. He needs her, all of her. It led him to wonder how long they had to stay at the ball to seem proper.

As the Duke spoke with Lord Chudley, he kept his eyes on his wife, who mingled about the room. And Edward Seymour threw caution to the wind for the first time in his life. He excused himself from the gentlemen around him, strode over to Mary, took her by the hand, and damned propriety. Her mouth made a little "Oh" as she saw the hungry look in his eyes, which made her heart leap. Obviously, the dress did what it was supposed to do.

When they made it back to their chambers, Edward locked the door and took hold of his wife. He kissed her until neither could breathe. Once they drew breath, the Duke told her, "You are my dream come to life. You are my best friend; now I want you as my lover. If you don't want that-"

He couldn't finish his words because Mary drew him in for another kiss filled with pent-up passion. All she knew was that she needed his body pressed against hers. His warmth, smell, and everything wrapped around her curves, so she said so. "I need you."

That was it. Those were the three words that broke Edward Seymour's tightly wound restraint. He undressed her with his eyes before he ever undressed her body, and the man did so with a shaky hand that seemed to tremble over all of her delicious curves. They stumbled back onto the bed and gave themselves to months of yearning and desire, feeling whole for the first time.

The heart can get really cold if all it knows is winter. The best kind of love is one that awakens the soul from its slumber and makes it call for more. The type that cultivates a fire in the heart and brings peace to the mind. For only then can it melt and begin to thaw.