Of One Heart - By Cynthia Wright Page 0,135

How sweet!"

"I hope you haven't come to see your husband. It's past nine o'clock. Too late. We lock the gates at ten, you know."

Her face fell tragically and tears welled in her eyes. "Say that you will overlook the rules this time, Sergeant, please! I'm late only because I've brought my husband's aged father, the Duke of Aylesbury. He wasn't feeling well enough to go out earlier today. Won't you grant him a few minutes with his son? I promise that we shall take our leave well before ten o'clock!"

Lady Sandhurst's appealing tone wore away at Pease. "Well..." He glanced over at the bent old man who stood wavering in the arched doorway. "I can hardly say no, Your Grace. I have a son myself and can appreciate how you feel. I hope Lord Sandhurst will find a way out of this predicament." This last was spoken in a strained tone, for the sergeant knew there would be no reprieve for a man accused of trying to seduce the queen.

Micheline had taken Jeremy's arm and was already turning away when Pease said, "Pardon me, my lady, but you'll have to show me what's in your basket."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Just a few things we brought for my husband. Clean clothes, you understand." She lifted the cover and pulled out a shirt-sleeve. "Now that you mention it, though, there is something here that I'd like you to have—in return for your kindness." Reaching down, Micheline withdrew a bottle of wine. "It's one of my own, from France. I do hope you'll enjoy it."

The sergeant blushed in the light of her smile. "Very kind of you, my lady. I appreciate it."

"If you'll excuse us, then—time is short!" As they walked hurriedly toward the Middle Tower, Jeremy pulled his soft velvet bonnet lower on his brow. "You're a little minx, Lady Sandhurst!" he muttered, amused in spite of himself.

"Call me Micheline." She smiled.

At the Middle Tower Micheline told the guard, "Sergeant Pease has given us permission, but we must be brief!" barely pausing to hear his reply.

They walked under the Byward Tower with equal ease and then arrived at the Garden Tower itself. The flaxen-haired guard met them with a look of astonishment. Briefly Micheline gave her explanation, punctuated with charming smiles and melting glances, and moments later the guard was letting them into Sandhurst's chamber.

"Dear Father!" exclaimed Andrew. Crossing the stone floor, he clasped Jeremy against him. "How good it is to see you!"

Culpepper's response was muffled. In the doorway Micheline stood beside Carson, the guard, and sighed. "You've all been very kind to allow this reunion."

"Rather touching, isn't it?" Carson allowed generously.

"Father, I would like you to meet my guard," Sandhurst declared, gesturing for Carson to come forward and join them.

Jeremy pasted on a feeble smile. "Eh?"

"Quite an honor, Your Grace!" The guard took two steps before Micheline walked up behind him and struck the back of his head with a brick she'd taken out of the basket.

Andrew caught the man in his arms and glanced up at Micheline. "Well done," he praised her.

"No time for chitchat!" Jeremy exclaimed hysterically. "We'll all go to the block if we're caught!"

"Nonsense," Sandhurst soothed his friend. "Help me out, won't you?"

The two men dragged Carson to the bed, undressed and then covered him, positioned so that he was facing away from the door.

"Poor Carson. He was so nice to us," Micheline reflected while Andrew donned the guard's uniform. "I think he deserves a reward."

"Depends on what you have in mind!" Sandhurst laughed, lacing the guard's ill-fitting breeches.

Micheline took five gold crowns from the basket and held them up. "Perhaps these will ease his headache tomorrow." Reaching under the blanket, she put the coins in Carson's hand.

"Please!" Jeremy was beside himself. "Let's get out of here!"

"How do I look?" Andrew inquired, pulling on Carson's Tudor bonnet.

"Ridiculous," his wife decided, "but not ridiculous enough. You'll need some padding."

While Micheline stuffed wads of clothing up the doublet of his uniform, Sandhurst stared at her so intensely that hot blood rushed to her cheeks. When she had finished, she wrapped her arms around his expanded waistline and pressed her face to the hard breadth of his chest. The even beat of Andrew's heart nourished her spirit.

"God's bones! Are you two ready?" demanded Jeremy.

"Quite, but I don't think this is the proper time or place." Seeing his friend's eyes bug out with exasperation, Andrew walked over and patted him on the back. "Don't look so worried, old man.

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