seemed to grow more handsome with each passing day.
Content just to be together, touching, they strolled north to Petergate, where Micheline viewed the great minster for the first time. Sandhurst took her inside the cathedral for a proper look at the spectacular ninety-foot-high vaulted nave and the stained-glass windows that were justly celebrated. In the nave was the great west window, with tracery in the form of a heart, while the south transcept boasted the rose window, which commemorated the end of the War of the Roses nearly fifty years earlier. Andrew and Micheline knelt together, praying silently but with one heart, then lit a candle before leaving the cathedral.
On Low Petergate, Sandhurst stopped to buy warm sugared buns for them to eat, and then a nosegay of violets from an old flower woman. Micheline was wearing a gown of rose and lavender silk, and the violets made a charming accessory.
Petergate wound into the Shambles, an especially narrow street lined with butcher shops whose overhanging eaves nearly touched at some points. The sun was fully visible over the River Foss when they began to circle back to the Starre Inn. He chose a meandering route which eventually brought them back to their lodgings in Stonegate.
"I like York," Micheline told him, "and all of England!"
"I'm glad," he said, pausing outside the Starre's doorway to hold her against him. "That was one of my chief concerns before we left France. There is so much for you to become accustomed to..." He sighed, breathing in the fragrance of her hair. "A new country, new customs, a new family, friends, potential responsibilities dealing with a new king—it's a great load."
"I'm up to the challenge, my lord," she declared, amusement infecting her voice. "Why, I'm even learning to like dumplings!"
Laughing, Sandhurst led her into the inn, where they found Jeremy and the servants waiting for them and eager to compete the journey. So within the hour the band of travelers passed through the towered Walmgate Bar, the eastern gate to the city, bound for Aylesbury Castle.
Micheline looked back out of the coach window at the banks of daffodils that rose up to touch the magnificent white walls encircling York, and wondered what sort of surprises the rest of the day held in store.
* * *
Although the sky grew darker as morning progressed, Micheline found Yorkshire hauntingly beautiful. Gray clouds scudded over bright green vales dotted with trees and sheep and brightened with liberal sprinklings of buttercups. Especially interesting to Micheline were the intersecting limestone walls that seemed to snake endlessly over the windswept landscape. She chatted with Mary, enjoying the scenery, until her heart caught in her throat at the sight of a castle silhouetted against the swirling gray sky.
Sandhurst rode up alongside the coach, pointing, to confirm the fact that Aylesbury Castle was at hand. Unlike the charming, peaceful-looking chateaus of France, which were set amid parkland and gardens, this castle had a stark, wild look about it. The closer they drew to the cluster of bastions, crenellations, and towers, the more nervous Micheline felt. The place did not look welcoming, nor could she imagine it as her home.
Noticing her mistress's apprehensive expression, Mary soothed, "It's not so bad, ma'am, and his lordship hardly ever comes here. You'll like Sandhurst Manor much better, I'll warrant."
Micheline nodded bravely, but she was thinking that the austere appearance of the castle merely seemed to forebode the atmosphere within.
A chilling wind penetrated the coach as it climbed a twisting lane to the castle. Andrew led the way as they crossed a drawbridge that led them into the barbican with its surrounding curtain wall. Servants had already begun to appear, rushing to welcome the Marquess of Sandhurst as he rode over a second drawbridge, through the gatehouse, and into the enormous inner courtyard of Aylesbury Castle.
Sandhurst swung down from his horse and handed the reins over to his squire, then made his way through the group of familiar happy faces, greeting each servant by name. Reaching the coach, he opened the door and helped Micheline down, holding her against him as he announced, "I want all of you to know Madame Micheline Tevoulere, who will become Lady Sandhurst just as soon as we can arrange the wedding!" Laughing in response to their cries of excitement, he added, "There may be some extra work involved for many of you, but I'm confident that you'll understand my plight and take pity on me. Each day of waiting is torment!"