had become dire indeed.
The driver started the team westward out of the gate then turned sharply south as the sun burst brilliantly over the horizon, bathing the carriage and its inhabitants with the first rays of a blazing August morning.
Alyse squinted against the dazzling daylight, her spirits rising. “Such a beautiful morn must portend an auspicious journey, Your Highness.”
When Alyse’s remark remained unanswered, she peered around at her companions. All three leaned against one another, heads lolling, succumbed at last to the exhaustion of the night’s exertions and tensions. With a weary sigh, Alyse closed her eyes and followed them into the blessed arms of slumber.
* * * *
Alyse did not see her husband again that day, and when he had not appeared by the evening meal on their second day at Loremo, she feared the worst and begged the princess’s leave to go in search of him.
Joanna raised her brows at the request. “And where would you look for him, Lady Alyse? There is no way to tell where Lord Braeton might be at this moment. He could still be in Bordeaux, overseeing the removal of the household belongings.”
“’Tis that I fear most, Highness.” Alyse wrung her hands, searching the princess’s face for a sign of compassion. “That he is still within the city walls where the pestilence rages.”
Joanna laid her arm around Alyse’s shoulders. “You must take heart, as Lady Mary does. Sir Geoffrey has been absent these two days as has Lord Braeton, yet Mary has remained calm and hopeful.”
Alyse cut her eyes toward Mary, who sat demurely embroidering, a placid look on her face.
She is too much of a goose to be worried about her husband.
Geoffrey’s image rose before her , and she shuddered. How did he fare? If she began to fear for his safety as well, she might well go mad. She swallowed her misgivings about the silence from the men. “Then I must endeavor to follow Lady Mary’s example and show more fortitude.”
Mary lifted her head from her stitching and said with a dreamy smile, “But , Highness, I received a short note early this morning from my lord assuring me he fared well. That is why I am content to wait for him.” She turned sad eyes to Alyse. “I am sure I would be just as distraught as Lady Alyse had he not sent me word.”
Alyse glowered at the young woman , her anger aimed not only at Mary, but at Geoffrey and Thomas as well. Why had her husband not sent even a hastily scratched line or two, reassuring her that all was well with him? At least she had assurance Geoffrey had not taken ill. She lowered her gaze, lest her true feelings be revealed to the company.
With as good grace as she could summon , she forced herself to smile and say, “Perhaps my lord will send to me when he has a chance. I know he is overly occupied with his duties to Your Highness’s household.”
She fought to hold back tears, her uncertainty over Thomas’s welfare at odds with the hurt of his negligence. If she could not take some action soon, she would start to scream much as Anne had done two days before. A deep breath helped return a measure of calm to her. All would be well. It must be.
As she raised her hand to wipe away the tears that had spilled from her eyes, a booming knock sounded on the chamber door. Alyse leaped to her feet and raced to answer it. She threw the door open then stopped short at the sight of a servant she vaguely remembered seeing in Bordeaux.
“A message for Lady Braeton from Sir Geoffrey Longford, my lady .” He bowed quickly then sped down the crowded corridor.
Stricken, Alyse turned the folded parchment over in her hand, a cold dread stealing through her heart. She remembered too well the last letter she had received from Geoffrey, the one that had changed her life forever. Was this missive to change her life once more, devastating her again with ill news of Thomas? She could only stare at the note then lift her terrified gaze to the women grouped around
The driver started the team westward out of the gate then turned sharply south as the sun burst brilliantly over the horizon, bathing the carriage and its inhabitants with the first rays of a blazing August morning.
Alyse squinted against the dazzling daylight, her spirits rising. “Such a beautiful morn must portend an auspicious journey, Your Highness.”
When Alyse’s remark remained unanswered, she peered around at her companions. All three leaned against one another, heads lolling, succumbed at last to the exhaustion of the night’s exertions and tensions. With a weary sigh, Alyse closed her eyes and followed them into the blessed arms of slumber.
* * * *
Alyse did not see her husband again that day, and when he had not appeared by the evening meal on their second day at Loremo, she feared the worst and begged the princess’s leave to go in search of him.
Joanna raised her brows at the request. “And where would you look for him, Lady Alyse? There is no way to tell where Lord Braeton might be at this moment. He could still be in Bordeaux, overseeing the removal of the household belongings.”
“’Tis that I fear most, Highness.” Alyse wrung her hands, searching the princess’s face for a sign of compassion. “That he is still within the city walls where the pestilence rages.”
Joanna laid her arm around Alyse’s shoulders. “You must take heart, as Lady Mary does. Sir Geoffrey has been absent these two days as has Lord Braeton, yet Mary has remained calm and hopeful.”
Alyse cut her eyes toward Mary, who sat demurely embroidering, a placid look on her face.
She is too much of a goose to be worried about her husband.
Geoffrey’s image rose before her , and she shuddered. How did he fare? If she began to fear for his safety as well, she might well go mad. She swallowed her misgivings about the silence from the men. “Then I must endeavor to follow Lady Mary’s example and show more fortitude.”
Mary lifted her head from her stitching and said with a dreamy smile, “But , Highness, I received a short note early this morning from my lord assuring me he fared well. That is why I am content to wait for him.” She turned sad eyes to Alyse. “I am sure I would be just as distraught as Lady Alyse had he not sent me word.”
Alyse glowered at the young woman , her anger aimed not only at Mary, but at Geoffrey and Thomas as well. Why had her husband not sent even a hastily scratched line or two, reassuring her that all was well with him? At least she had assurance Geoffrey had not taken ill. She lowered her gaze, lest her true feelings be revealed to the company.
With as good grace as she could summon , she forced herself to smile and say, “Perhaps my lord will send to me when he has a chance. I know he is overly occupied with his duties to Your Highness’s household.”
She fought to hold back tears, her uncertainty over Thomas’s welfare at odds with the hurt of his negligence. If she could not take some action soon, she would start to scream much as Anne had done two days before. A deep breath helped return a measure of calm to her. All would be well. It must be.
As she raised her hand to wipe away the tears that had spilled from her eyes, a booming knock sounded on the chamber door. Alyse leaped to her feet and raced to answer it. She threw the door open then stopped short at the sight of a servant she vaguely remembered seeing in Bordeaux.
“A message for Lady Braeton from Sir Geoffrey Longford, my lady .” He bowed quickly then sped down the crowded corridor.
Stricken, Alyse turned the folded parchment over in her hand, a cold dread stealing through her heart. She remembered too well the last letter she had received from Geoffrey, the one that had changed her life forever. Was this missive to change her life once more, devastating her again with ill news of Thomas? She could only stare at the note then lift her terrified gaze to the women grouped around
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