Elizabeth 5 - The Thorne Maze by Karen Harper

Author:Karen Harper [Harper, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, lorraine
ISBN: 9781429905206
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2003-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Later, the afternoon they arrived at Hatfield House, Elizabeth summoned Cecil and took a proprietary stroll around the immediate grounds with him. He assumed, no doubt, she needed to discuss the Mary, Queen of Scots marriage problem again, but she had in mind his own marriage dilemma.

“You are certain Mildred’s headache will go away if she simply rests?” she asked him. “I can send Meg to her with some soothing tonic or even summon a doctor if that’s needed.”

“No, she said a nap will restore her. Besides, it looks to me as if Meg has her own task for the day.”

Despite the warmth of the sun, Meg Milligrew had waded into the midst of the unruly knot garden and, with long-bladed, rusted clippers, was madly hacking at leggy rose bushes. Her skirt snagged by thorns, knee-deep in hedges that should be close-cropped and shaped, she did not see them standing nearby.

The varied interlacing sections of woody shrubs had been set out, trained, and trimmed in the shape of a great, intricate knot. Within its whorls and turns could be placed colored gravel, herbs, or flowers—in this case, apothecary roses. Such ornate designs had originated in France, but the English had elevated knot gardening to an art with the varied hues and textures of boxwood, yew, rosemary, and other woody herbs.

“Meg,” Elizabeth called to her, “you must fetch someone to help you.”

“Oh, Your Grace, Lord Cecil,” she said, arching her back and shading her eyes. “I can’t abide that it’s run riot. I’ll have it looking like a fine embroidery knot again and not some wilderness. Nothing can bloom aright in a mess like this,” she added, throwing up her hands so fast the gap-jawed clippers went sailing into the green tangle and she had to search to retrieve them.

“Of course you’ll get it back to rights,” the queen encouraged her, “but don’t overtire yourself And remember to take the Countess of Lennox those strewing herbs for her chambers.” Elizabeth and Cecil walked on toward the cooler shade of the huge oaks.

“Meg is not the one you have watching Darnley and his mother, is she?” Cecil asked.

“In part, for I would not expect Margaret to trust my herb mistress. I have also put my guard Clifford in the hall by their rooms to keep a good eye on her and Darnley, especially Darnley.”

They stopped, as if by mutual consent, under the oaks which lined the lawn. “The six years I’ve reigned have flown by,” Elizabeth admitted. She reached out to touch the very tree under which she’d been standing when Cecil and Robin had ridden from London with a party of men to bring her the coronation ring from her dead sister’s finger.

At that memory, the queen shivered despite the heat. Someday the gold and onyx ring—she glanced at it on her hand—would go to someone else … when she too was dead and buried in Westminster Abbey, but not yet, pray God, not for many years. Not unless the one who attacked her tried again, even here in this secluded haven in the heart of her England.

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