her
stockings. She ignored the desire to lean down and rub her ankles―a
lady did not rub her ankle in public no matter what. Even if her
ankle was twisted. One public smack of her hands by the queen had
ingrained that particular lesson into Madelaine’s mind for good.
The queen didn’t hit near as hard as Madelaine’s mother used to,
but then again her mother had not had an audience to force her
temper under control.
Inhaling a breath of the mildly cool
air, the familiar calm she always got when she was outside
descended on her. The emerging wintery beauty of Windsor Great Park
pushed away the weariness Grace had caused. Madelaine pulled out
her supplies and picked up her easel. At least if she had to be
humiliated it would be under a tree that still somehow stood lushly
green amongst the other trees whose leaves had already begun to
turn to a dull brown.
Madelaine chanced a look at Lady
Elizabeth, who had not spoken to her once in the last seven days
but had offered the occasional friendly smile when Grace had not
been present. It would be lovely to have one lady to count as a
friend but that was probably too much to hope for. As Madelaine
finished situating herself, the queen let out an irritated
sigh.
“ I’ve forgotten my
favorite sketching instrument.”
“ I’ll get it, Your
Majesty.” Grace jumped up and pushed back her chair.
Queen Charlotte bestowed a doting
smile on Grace that made Madelaine want to roll her eyes. Instead,
she kept her gaze trained on the paper before her and imagined
Grace falling, face first, straight into the mud. How Madelaine
would love to sketch that. The minute Grace disappeared from view,
Lady Elizabeth leaned toward Madelaine. “I’m so sorry,” she said
under her breath.
“ Don’t be,” Madelaine
whispered back.
Lady Elizabeth gazed around them, but
the queen was sitting with her eyes closed and her face raised
slightly to the sun. The other ladies-in-waiting were all busily
sketching. “I cannot be thrown from Court,” Lady Elizabeth
said.
“ Please, don’t worry about
me.” Madelaine understood Lady Elizabeth’s concern, but all the
same, it made her sad the woman wouldn’t chance being her
friend.
“ I’ve someone I want you
to meet,” Lady Elizabeth said out of the side of her mouth. “Meet
me in the chapel before dinner.”
The invitation was an unexpected and
pleasant surprise. Rather than risk any more whispering, Madelaine
nodded. Perhaps she and Lady Elizabeth would be friends after all,
even if only secretly. Relaxing, she studied the landscape while
trying to decide what would be the easiest thing to try to sketch.
In the distance, two riders appeared out of the woods, black capes
billowing behind them starkly contrasted by the bright blue sky. By
the way the horses raced hell-bent toward them they had to be two
men riding the beasts. No woman would dare to ride with such speed
unless perhaps fleeing for her life.
As the horses drew nearer, the ground
vibrated from the pounding hooves into the soles of Madelaine’s
delicately slippered feet. The bevy of whispers that erupted as all
the women forgot their sketching to gaze curiously at the
approaching riders made Madelaine want to laugh. Not one of these
ladies would dare defy the queen’s order in normal circumstances,
but put two men in their paths and the queen’s command to draw was
promptly abandoned. And the queen did not seem to mind one bit, if
her smile was any indication. Madelaine quirked her mouth. She
didn’t need a friend in one of the ladies-in-waiting to help her
soften the queen, she needed a man. Two men from the queen’s guard
materialized from the stone wall they had been lounging against to
stand just behind the queen on either side of her.
Madelaine shielded her eyes from the
glaring sun, but she could not get a good view of the approaching
riders.
“ Now who could this be?”
The queen’s bejeweled, wrinkled hand hovered just above her
eyes.
As the riders came