Lady of the Roses Read Free Page B

you?”
    It suddenly occurred to me that old people were filled with empty warnings about life, and I felt a rush of relief. I could dismiss her words like a faint rumble of thunder that had moved far away and no longer touched us. “Aye, Sœur Madeleine, I understand,” I said to please her, my mood as bright as ever.

Two
T HE D ANCE, 1456
    AT THE FIRST CALL OF THE SUPPER HORN, I CROSSED the castle courtyard with Sœur Madeleine beneath a violet sky set with a solitary star, and wound my way up the stairwell to the great hall, trailed by my fellow guests. The hum of conversation grew louder the higher we went, until a raucous din told us we had reached the passageway to the chamber. Crowds thronged the entry, some engaging in conversation, others of low rank waiting to be seated. Heads turned as I passed, and I couldn’t help but take pleasure in my gorgeous gown and the bows and admiring glances that followed me.
    Though privy to the banquet preparations earlier, I was taken aback by the splendor of the hall. A heavy scent of roses wafted up from the scattered petals on the floor, and the room danced with light from the many flaring torches and the candles flickering on the tables and in the deep recesses of the windows. Behind the dais where Lord Cromwell would sit, a fire blazed in the enormous stone hearth bearing his coat of arms. Silver, pewter, and the panes of glass in the windows reflected the flames so that even the banners and tapestries decorating the paneled room twinkled with jeweled lights.
    Across the hall, a few knights and ladies were already at the tables below the windows, and the chamberlain led us to them. We passed Master Giles and Guy, seated with other heralds, squires, clerks, scriveners, and their wives at a lower table below the salt, reserved for commoners, bare of fruit and silver, and set with wooden bowls and cups instead of pewter and horn. They gave us a bow as we passed, and the admiration in their eyes lightened my step. Arriving at our table, I noted with delight that we had been seated next to the dais. With a crosscurrent of greeting, and a nod from Sœur Madeleine, I slipped in first, next to a burly knight with a florid complexion who stood to give a courtly bow. Sœur Madeleine took the end of the bench, and her lips remained pursed as she inclined her head to the knight in greeting, so I gave him a little smile, which I was soon to regret.
    Other knights and ladies, clergy, and those of rank came to join us at our table, and with each placement, the ruddy knight edged closer to me, forcing me to slide toward Sister until all space was exhausted and any further movement in that direction would have either pushed Sister off the end of the bench or alerted her to the knight’s antics and guaranteed a scene. Faced with this choice, I suffered in silence and tried to ignore his thigh and shoulders pressing into mine, and his bold glances that raked my bodice.
    A sudden flourish of trumpets stilled the buzz of conversation. Like everyone else, I hastened to rise, adding to the rustle of silk that rippled through the hall.
    Gazing around at his guests with a broad smile of welcome on his rosy face, and followed by an entourage of lords and ladies, Lord Cromwell entered, a pleasant-looking, fair-haired young lady on his arm whom I took to be his niece, Lady Maude. Though I had been to banquets now and again with my father, I had become accustomed to the stark regimen and drabness of the nunnery, and I couldn’t help but stare spellbound at the colorful group entering the hall, their gorgeous velvets and gold cloths aglitter with gems. Then I noticed the hound at the rear of the procession. It pranced with an air of hauteur and bore such a lordly expression that I almost laughed aloud. I glanced at its owner, and a wave of recognition flowed through me. But how did I know this knight? And if I had once seen him, how could I have forgotten such a face?
    Save for the hound at his heels,