exquisite bird's-eye primroses and tender buttercups to make a wedding garland for her hair. However, it was impossible to resist the other spring flowers that abounded on the hillsides. Soon her arms were filled with bright scented blooms: globeflowers, dainty yellow cowslips, wild pansies, daisies, and pale pink lady smocks. In shaded hedges she discovered a profusion of violets and the star of Bethlehem, which had opened its white petals amid fern and ivy.
The afternoon was waning when Micheline remounted the patient mare and started back toward the castle. Suddenly it occurred to her that the king and Anne Boleyn might be arriving shortly, and she ought to be present to greet them. Urging the mare into a reluctant gallop, Micheline tipped her head back, enjoying the sensation of the cool air, scented sweetly with vernal grass, against her face. Pipits, wheatears, and twites chirped and hopped along the winding limestone walls.
Her feeling of contentment was such that she barely noticed the odd flash of light from the trees on a hill above, but the mare was not so preoccupied. It caught the horse by surprise, blinding her so that she reared back abruptly, sending the unsuspecting Micheline flying into the air. A lesser horsewoman would have been gravely injured, or even killed, but she instinctively curled up and relaxed all at once before striking the ground. When she sat up and tested her bones, she saw that she'd come inches from hitting one of the stone walls. Her heart began to pound as she considered the flash of light. What else could have caused it except a mirror?
For a long moment she closed her eyes against the terror that washed over her, then made up her mind to put it aside. It seemed that whoever it was that wanted to harm her hadn't the courage to approach her directly, and it was still possible that all that had happened so far at Aylesbury Castle was not a direct threat but merely the product of her imagination. In any case, Micheline resolved that nothing and no one would interfere with her happiness on the eve of her wedding.
Still trembling, she regathered her scattered bouquet, then went over to the mare, stroking her neck and whispering words of reassurance to herself as much as to the horse. Eventually, when both of them were calm, they rode slowly back to Aylesbury Castle and crossed the two drawbridges that led to the inner courtyard. She'd been hoping that Andrew might return before she had to go back inside, but now she told herself that everyone would still be engaged in game-playing and would pay no attention to her if she slipped into her chambers. With Rupert as the instructor, the games seemed likely to go on until supper.
Climbing the spiral staircase to the family apartments, Micheline felt her fears dissolving. Perhaps it had all been a simple accident. Certainly it was better to believe that than to allow herself to be terrorized on the eve of her wedding!
She expected to find the living quarters of the castle filled with activity, and wondered at the absolute silence in the corridor. A need for distraction mixed with curiosity, and Micheline tiptoed down to peek around the corner of the solar.
"Hmmph!" grunted the Duke of Aylesbury. "What are you doing lurking about? Thinking to spy on someone?"
Micheline started at the sight of him, all alone in the sun-washed chamber. The old man sat in his favorite chair, wearing a nightgown faced with rabbit and overlaid with a worn gray silk coverlet.
She stepped into the open. "Of course not, Your Grace! I only wondered if the others weren't still enjoying their games. I confess that I tried to remain undetected because I feared they would ask me to join them, and I didn't want to appear rude by refusing."
His eyes twinkled almost imperceptibly in reaction to her frankness. It was difficult to resist this fresh young beauty, with her spicy windblown curls, sun-pinkened cheeks, and arms filled with a haphazard assortment of wild flowers.
"In that case, I don't blame you for hiding, but it's safe. They've all gone to their rooms to prepare for the king's arrival," he replied gruffly. "That's quite a bouquet you've amassed. I hope you left a few on the hillsides."
"Oh, yes, of course, Your Grace! One would never know I'd picked these, there are so many more. Aren't they lovely? You have many sorts of flowers here in England that I don't