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had to say.
    Such a thin excuse for a letter, it had been. Stilted and halfhearted, with none of his usual affection. It had taken me only a minute to read the brief lines saying that he couldn’t come as expected, that the King needed him at Court. He’d finished with a formal phrase or two. And he’d signed the letter with his full name.
    Since then I’d not heard one word from him.
    I thrust the letters back into the trunk.
    “You don’t want to take them?” Norrie said.
    I stuffed my shifts into a bag. “There’s no need.”
    “I suppose not,” Norrie agreed. “Letters can’t hold a candle to seeing somebody in the flesh. And once we’re at Court, you’ll be seeing Nat all the time.”
    I kept quiet, but Norrie wouldn’t let the subject drop.
    “Like as not, he’ll be there to greet us. And I must admit it will be a comfort to have him at our side.” Her eyes crinkled with sudden merriment. “Indeed, if it’s anything like last summer, we’ll have a job prying him away from you.”
    My cheeks burned. “It won’t be like that.”
    The words shot out of me. I couldn’t call them back.
    Scenting trouble, Norrie stopped packing. “Won’t be like what?”
    Maybe it was time to tell her. After all, there would be no hiding the truth once we reached Court.
    “He hasn’t visited, Norrie. And he’s stopped writing. You must have noticed: I haven’t had a letter in three months.” It was an effort to keep my voice even. “I don’t think he wants to see me.”
    Norrie blinked. “Why, of course he does, child. He’s been busy, that’s all.”
    “Too busy to write?” I said.
    “It happens.”
    “Maybe. Or maybe he’s met someone else.” I tried to hide how the idea ate away at me. “That happens too.”
    “Someone else? Oh, child.” Norrie set down the slippers she was trying to cram into the bag. “Letters or no letters, Nat’s a young man who knows his own mind. He won’t have changed toward you, you mark my words.”
    She sounded so sure that she half convinced me—and goodness knows, I wanted to believe her. Yet how could I, after that awful letter in November, and the silence ever since?
    Boots thumped below.
    “What do you want done with your chickens?” a deep voice called out.
    “Oh, goodness.” Norrie hastened for the stairs. “I completely forgot. Maybe we can put them in baskets and bring them to Letheringham? I expect the cook there will be glad of the extra eggs. You finish up with the packing, Lucy, and I’ll go down and see to it.”
    Left to myself, I filled the bags and tied them shut. More boots tramped downstairs. Be quick , I told myself.
    When I went to close the trunk, however, I glimpsed Nat’s letters again and paused. For a moment, I was tempted to bring them after all.
    But no. Whatever Norrie might say, I wasn’t going to do that to myself. I flipped the lid down.
    A quarter hour later, we set off for Greenwich.

CHAPTER FOUR
THE RABBLE
    By the time we reached the hunting lodge, it was twilight, and I was hungry. But food had to wait. After hours of riding pillion behind one of the King’s men, Norrie’s back pained her so much that she could neither sit nor stand. Waving away her supper, she collapsed onto the pallets that had been laid out for us.
    I wished that I knew a song-spell for soothing pain, but that was not where my gifts lay; my magic was more elemental. Instead, I prevailed upon the lodge cooks to brew some willow bark tea, and I made Norrie drink it all.
    “And you ought to eat something too,” I said.
    “I’ve no appetite, child.” Her face contorted as she shifted on the bed.
    “Oh, Norrie.” I knelt by her side in distress. “What can I do?”
    “Nothing, child. It’s just that dratted pillion. Thanks be I shan’t have to ride it again on this trip.”
    I nodded. Knollys had already told us that from this pointonward, Norrie and I would travel by carriage. I hadn’t been best pleased by the choice—carriages, in my