Murder at Fontainebleau Read Free Page B

Park up the queen’s long privy gallery, shimmering with its gilded roof and many windows. The cold wind was blocked there, along with the sickly sweet, frosty smell of the river. Rob swung down from his horse and lifted her from her saddle. She swayed for a second, her legs weak from the hours of riding.
    â€œYou need your land legs back, Kate,” he said with a laugh.
    She smiled and reached up to try to smooth the stray strands of hair back into the knitted caul beneath her hat. She had just brushed at her skirt and the fur-trimmed sleeves of her riding doublet when she heard the hollow click of footsteps along the flagstone stairs. She glanced up to see the queen’s Mistress of the Robes, Mistress Kat Ashley, coming toward her.
    Mistress Ashley looked just as she had when Kate left court, her graying dark hair braided and pinnedbeneath a white cap; the lace at the edge of her dark green gown bright white; her eyes, deep-set in her lined face, watchful and serious. Her loyalty was to the queen, always and above all else; she had long been like a mother to Elizabeth. But Kate knew her to be kindhearted, perhaps even a secret romantic at heart.
    â€œMistress Haywood,” Mistress Ashley said. “I have been set to watch for your arrival. I hope your journey was comfortable enough?”
    â€œIt was blessedly short. Thank you, Mistress Ashley.”
    Mistress Ashley nodded and gave her a small smile. “We will surely all miss your father here at court. His songs are among the finest I have ever heard. None have any but praise for him.”
    Kate blinked against the prickle of tears in her eyes. She could not cry again, not now. “Thank you. He will be missed.”
    Mistress Ashley nodded. “Her Grace is most eager to see you. I have orders to take you to her now.”
    â€œNow?” Kate squeaked. The queen was always most insistent on her orders being obeyed right away, or there would be that Tudor temper to contend with. Elizabeth was ever impatient. Yet Kate had still hoped she might be able to change into one of her nicer gowns before facing the court again.
    She glanced back at Rob, who shrugged and gave her a reassuring smile.
    â€œThe queen has many concerns right now making demands on her time,” Mistress Ashley said sternly. “She has been asking about your arrival all day.”
    â€œOf course, Mistress Ashley,” Kate answered.
    Mistress Ashley nodded. “Master Cartman, a groom is on the way to assist with your horses. Lord Hunsdon wishes you to attend on him right away, as well.”
    Kate exchanged one more glance with Rob before she hurried off after Mistress Ashley. The stone gallery was spare and silent, with only a few liveried servants rushing past on their errands. They crossed over the lane through the old crenellated towers of the elaborately carved Holbein Gate and were then in the palace itself.
    New tall windows of diamondlike glass looked down onto an empty, snow-dusted tiltyard. A shining blue-and-gold ceiling arched overhead, glowing like summer in the gray day, and a rare, thickly woven carpet muffled the footsteps of the well-shod crowd around them.
    The queen’s courtiers—clusters and pairs of people clad in brilliant satins and lustrous velvets—stood near the frost-dusted windows, talking and laughing, whispering intently. They watched Kate with curious eyes as she hurried past.
    But she had no time to look in return, to stop and greet the people she knew well or to make curtsies. There was no time, either, to glance at the treasures on display, the paintings and tapestries, the crystals and cameos and clocks, the portraits of the queen’s father, brother, and stepmothers that watched everyone walking past. They hurried down various corridors, up anddown stairs, until they reached the queen’s own apartments.
    The Privy Chamber was crowded with those waiting to petition the queen, and many tried to stop Mistress