Palace of Spies by Sarah Zettel

Author:Sarah Zettel [Sarah Zettel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780544073753
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 2013-11-05T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

IN WHICH THE SCHEDULED MEETING IS CONCLUDED, BUT NOT WITH ANY EXPECTED PARTY, AND OUR HEROINE MAKES A RASH PROMISE TO A SMALL BUT IMPORTANT PERSON.

The Wilderness is the name given to Hampton Court’s great hedge maze, though for what reason I know not. There exists nothing less wild than its rigidly clipped hornbeam hedges and meticulously maintained pathways.

I was so certain I was late, I decided to cut through the maze itself rather than take the longer, straighter way along the broad lanes. It might seem odd to choose a labyrinth over an avenue, but the true secret of the Wilderness is that it is fairly easy to navigate. One cannot, I suppose, risk royalty becoming genuinely lost. I selected the curving paths, to better keep out of sight of any other idlers, and carefully counted my turnings. The day had begun to warm in earnest, and the Wilderness felt as stuffy as any interior room of the palace. My skin began to itch with perspiration under my arms and under my corset, and under my garters, and under my cap. Still, I did not permit myself to slow down. I was entirely certain I was late. I attempted to berate myself for being so long distracted by Matthew Reade, but the voice of my conscience failed to muster her usual force. Instead I found myself remembering Matthew’s hand as it passed delicately over the grass stems and the way the sunlight caught his eyes.

He’d contemplated my face, and he liked what he saw. He smiled, and he offered me his friendship and his help. He did not pay me clumsy or salacious compliments. He did not paw my shoulder, my cheek, or my skirts. There was no innuendo or bribery. Matthew Reade wanted to talk with me and be my friend. How had so simple a thing come to seem so rare and so very precious? And yet—and yet there was that matter of the missing drawing. Why had he completed portraits of all the other maids, but not of Francesca?

Consumed as I was by these disparate thoughts, I did not hear the footsteps I should have, and rounded the final corner only to collide forcefully with a small girl in a blue silk dress running in the opposite direction. We both staggered backwards and stared at each other.

I spoke first. “What are you doing here?”

“The Portland says I’m not to have a puppy,” she replied with the particular and implacable logic possessed by young children.

Portland. I knew that name but could not immediately call to mind which of the long lists of courtiers it belonged to. The girl herself looked to be six or seven years old, and she regarded me with two large, slightly protruding eyes. She’d pulled her cap off her blond curls, and it dangled by its strings from one white and pink fist. I looked at those eyes, and I looked at her blue dress with its white ruffles on sleeve and collar, and the quantity of lace on her miniature petticoats.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.