Free Thwarted Queen by Cynthia Sally Haggard Page A

and Isabel followed.
    I remained with Bess and Blaybourne, looking at the retreating figures, when Bess said, “I have always wanted to try my hand at archery. May I?”
    “Of course, my lady,” he said. He tied the leather arm-guards on, handed her his gloves, and gave her his bow.
    I felt suddenly weary, so I sat down under the oak tree and closed my eyes.
    I must have gone out for a moment, for I came to with a start when he called out, “Perfect, my lady. You will be a fine archeress one day.”
    “With such an excellent teacher, how could I help that?” Bess replied laughing.
    He was silent.
    I rose and signaled to the servants to offer them some refreshments.
    “I wondered where you were, my lady, I thought perhaps you’d gone,” he said.
    “I was seeing about the refreshments. Would you like something? Bess? It is a hot afternoon, and shooting arrows must be tiring work.”
    “No thank you,” said Bess as she gave the gloves, arm-guards, and bow back to him. “I will go and see if Margaret needs my help.”
    She disappeared in the direction of the castle.
    “Do we need the servants here, my lady?”
    I looked at him for a long moment. I knew I shouldn’t be alone with him, but—
    “Perhaps not,” I murmured and beckoned to the steward.
    Soon the servants were disappearing down the path to the castle. A breeze stirred and a bird trilled an arpeggio. We were completely alone.
    He touched my arm. “And now it is your turn, Cecylee.”
    My head jerked up.
    Our gaze held. Then he handed me the bow and the finger-tabs and tied the arm-guards on.
    I lifted the bow, drew the string back, and aimed. But my first shot fell in front of my feet.
    He came closer and, standing just behind me, put his hands on mine. His hands burned into my skin, yet gave me strength.
    “It’s like this,” he murmured softly. “You look up, not down, you draw back as far as you can, and then—”
    “You take the consequences?”
    “Exactly,” he said, as I fired off a shot that landed several yards away, right in the middle of the painted board that had been chosen as the target.
    “That was excellent, Cecylee.”
    He was so close that I could inhale the spicy scent and feel his body just touching my back. Now, I felt his breath on my cheek. One step more, and he cradled me in his arms. Ignoring my pounding heart, I fired off another shot.
    It landed in the ground several yards away.
    “Should we continue?” he murmured, brushing my cheek with a butterfly kiss.
    I gave him the bow.
    “I must stop now.”
    He kissed my cheek again and squeezed me gently.
    “You’re not angry with me?”
    “No. But this is unwise.”
    “Indeed it is. But I’ve longed for this moment, ever since I first saw you.”
    His eyes were like a clear pool that refreshed my soul. “I feel so drawn to you,” he said. “I tried to keep away but I could not.”
    “You make me feel as if I’ve come home,” I replied.
    Our lips met in a kiss.
    I melted. Then I pulled back.
    “I must go.” I took off the finger tabs and arm-guards, handed them to him, and turned.
    He put a hand on my arm.
    I gazed into his eyes, my cheeks warming.
    “I must go.”
    I turned on my heel and forced myself to walk away, feeling his gaze scorching into my back with every step that I took.
     
     

Chapter 8
    Feast of Saint Clare
    August 12, 1441
     
    Lisette’s illness continued, and after ten days, we needed more medicine.
    I could have sent a servant to the Abbey of Saint-Ouen, but I was longing for fresh air. I should have gone with an escort, for Richard had enjoined me never to ride abroad without protection. But I was tired of being surrounded by various people. Bess agreed to accompany me, and so, leaving Lisette in the care of Margaret and Isabel, we set off early one morning just after dawn while it was cool.
    As we came into the courtyard where our horses waited, a tall figure detached itself from the shadows and came forward. Bess gasped and clutched