The king turned to St. Briac. "My friend, I put this situation in your hands," he murmured evenly.
"You are too kind," came the ironic reply. For a long moment he regarded the enchanting girl, wondering what her game might be. It was obvious that she was of simple birth and surely old enough to have mated, probably married. Was it for gold that she teased them? "I suggest that we sample the wine and cheese and explore this matter further."
Uneasily, Aimée wondered at the man's air of mischief. She watched the two men settle themselves in the grove of birch and then brought them her basket. When she bent over, two pairs of male eyes burned the creamy swell of her bosom, sending a hot flush through Aimée's cheeks. Something was wrong.
"I apologize for the simplicity of these refreshments," she murmured. "I hope you will not object to sharing a cup."
Francois could barely conceal his distaste. Watching her fill the pewter cup with what was doubtless some sour peasant wine, he thought longingly of the elaborate repast that waited for him at his hunting lodge. St. Briac appeared to be amused by this ridiculous farce, yet the girl hardly seemed on the verge of shedding her dress so that the three of them might frolic together, and he would never resort to force.
Aimée had reluctantly taken the place indicated by the handsome man and now found herself bracketed by two pairs of wide shoulders. By the time the food and wine were gone, she was feeling anxious.
"You seem nervous, my sweet," the long-nosed man remarked with what sounded like impatience. "Don't you like men?"
"I—" She swallowed. "I suppose that some men are rather agreeable."
The king raised his eyes to meet St. Briac's over her head. Thomas realized that bolder measures were called for. "What about the king? Surely you have heard that he is delivered from his captivity in Spain? What would you think were your path to cross his?"
At last a topic of conversation that Aimée could sink her teeth into! "I have no use for the king! I understand that his charm is great, but I have seen so many poor, suffering people that I can feel only disdain for a monarch who could waste so much time on extravagant, frivolous pursuits."
St. Briac had gone pale under his tan, and Francois could only gape. Fearing for the foolish girl's life, St. Briac made a valiant attempt to smooth things over. "Are you not aware that our king has spent many years at war? His courage is legendary. In fact, he was in the thick of battle at Pavia when taken prisoner."
Aimée rolled her eyes and made a gesture of dismissal with one pretty hand. "His involvement of France in these silly wars is proof of our king's childish male vanity. Why does he not concentrate on improving the lot of his own country instead of always attempting to take someone else's away? The poor man's character is obviously hopelessly shallow."
Francois had begun to cough and then choke, and Aimée turned worried eyes on him. "Oh, dear. Are you all right?"
When he could breathe again, the king said hoarsely, "That will teach me to eat the stale bread of a peasant wench!"
She straightened slim shoulders. "I beg your pardon, m'sieur!"
St. Briac was torn between amusement at this scene and concern for what it might lead to. Fortunately, he was spared further involvement by the far-off sound of his huntsman's horn. "There's Perot, my friend! Let's be away to join the others."
The king was already rising. "No, no, St. Briac. I insist that you remain and accept all the comfort from this charming wood sprite. I for one have had my fill." He gave them both a terse bow, mounted his horse, and galloped off through the woods.
Cringing, Thomas lay back in the lush grass, closed his eyes, and then let the laughter rise irrepressibly in his chest.
"Your friend's behavior was quite odd," Aimée observed. She reached for the basket and began to replace flask, cup, and linen serviette. "Has he some special regard for the king?"
"You might say that." The smile that curved St. Briac's mouth was at once that of a devil and a little boy. Slowly he began to laugh, remembering all that had happened.
Aimée looked on in consternation. Obviously both men had been lost in the woods for too long. Still, she couldn't deny that this tall fellow stirred confusing feelings within her, feelings she