Of One Heart - By Cynthia Wright Page 0,19

Besides, you'll feel different when you're sitting before a blazing fire with a cup of wine and a dish of hot supper."

"In the servants' kitchen!"

"Now, now," Sandhurst soothed, trying to smother his laughter. "You never know; they may send me there as well! I'm not at all certain where unknown painters rank in the hierarchy of a king's court."

Jeremy was too disgruntled to reply. He glanced over at his friend, who rode slightly ahead, and thought that it was highly unlikely that Sandhurst could ever be banished to the servants' quarters, even if he actually were a servant! His presence was too splendid to waste. Even now, at the end of a long day, he sat gracefully erect on his horse, his profile half-amused and unmistakably aristocratic, and his body lean and strong in the fawn doublet, breeches, and boots that he wore.

"I've just got one thing to say!" Jeremy heard himself shout.

"If I'm going to lower myself and pretend to be your lackey for the next few weeks, you'd damned well better accomplish something to make it worthwhile! Don't open your eyes at me like that! I'm talking about the girl, and well you know it! If you don't fancy her, I'd appreciate it if you'd decide that right away so that we can be done with this foolishness and go home! My time is valuable, whether you appreciate that fact or not!" Jeremy's face was red long before he finished his tirade.

"Egad!" exclaimed Andrew, the barest quirk of his mouth betraying his amusement. "You're hungrier than I thought! And that speech was very impressive, but I can't promise to obey any of your commands." Gently he nudged his horse with his knees and, as it eased into a canter, glanced back in Jeremy's direction and added, "I must admit that I don't hold out much hope regarding the outcome of our undertaking."

"What!" Culpepper yelled in disbelief.

"I mean, what kind of woman would agree to marry a man she's never even seen? Not my sort, I fear."

* * *

As it turned out, a hot meal and several mugs of wine did go a long way toward improving Sir Jeremy Culpepper's outlook. He sat alone at the long scrubbed table in the kitchen, nearly oblivious to the pandemonium that surrounded him. Supper was being prepared for the king and his court, but the head cook had been sympathetic and hadn't made Jeremy wait for his. He found the pain moullet, a soft bread made with milk and butter, extremely soothing to his voracious appetite. The bread accompanied a steaming dish of rabbit stew flavored with green peas and carrots, and sprinkled with pomegranate seeds and fresh herbs. Jeremy had never eaten anything quite so flavorful in all his life.

In a different part of the chateau, Lord Sandhurst, now known as Andrew Selkirk, was standing in the long expanse of King Francois's unfinished gallery. The shell of it was complete, but the planned frescoes and carved paneling would take years. The king himself stood off to one side, reading a letter that had been sealed with the Marquess of Sandhurst's crest.

To His Majesty, the King of France:

The bearer of this letter is Andrew Selkirk, a very accomplished painter who has created masterful portraits of members of my family. He brings you an example of his fine work, a likeness of my sister, Lady Cicely Weston.

It is my hope that you will give Selkirk a place at your court during his sojourn in France. Your Majesty's fine reputation as a patron of the arts leads me to believe that you will find Selkirk's visit an enriching one.

Most Respectfully,

Andrew Weston, Marquess of Sandhurst

Francois looked up from the sheet of parchment, scrutinizing the handsome man who waited nearby. "How do you like my new gallery, m'sieur?"

"I've just been admiring the portions of paneling that are completed, Your Majesty. Very impressive."

Francois found himself warming to the Englishman. "I understand that your king Henry uses much gilding in his houses, whereas I use little or none. I prefer timber finely wrought with diverse natural woods, such as ebony and brazil."

"I admire your taste, sire. I agree that these woods are richer than gilding, and doubtless more durable as well."

"My sentiments exactly." The king beamed. "I bid you welcome to my court, M'sieur Selkirk. I think that we shall deal well together."

"Your Majesty is both kind and generous."

As they walked together through the gallery, Francois inquired casually, "The Marquess of Sandhurst is your patron?"

"I have made some

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