Chapter 6: The Rose Walk

"Then the Duke already knows," I said.

"He's known since yesterday morning and told nobody."

Bertrand picked up his pen.

"Men like my cousin don't keep a secret for free. He wants something for it."

"What?"

"I expect he'll tell you."

He went back to his ledger.

I was dismissed.

He told me on the seventh day after the King collapsed.

It was a long week.

The physician kept the King on broth and barley water, and nobody but family past the doors.

I wasn't family yet.

Alistair was, and he sat with his father every morning and sent me one line by the tea boy every night.

The first said: Kept his broth down.

The second said: Asked for you. Physician said no. I said something rude.

The fifth said: He's eating bread. He wants his tea back. I don't know how long I can hold him.

I kept every one in my kit, under the false bottom where I hide my best leaf.

On the seventh day the sun came out, and Blanche dragged me to the rose walk to get me out of our rooms.

It was a long gravel path under arches of white roses, with hedges high enough to hide a horse.

Blanche stopped to look at a beetle.

I walked on alone around the turn, and the Duke of Ellesmere stepped out of a gap in the hedge.

He wore black velvet in the heat, and a jeweled dagger at his belt.

"Miss Pellow," he said. "What a lovely morning for a walk."

"It was."

He fell into step beside me.

He walked slowly, so I had to walk slowly too.

"You made quite an impression in the sickroom," he said. "The whole court is talking about the shopgirl's tea."

"The King liked it."

"The King is a sick old man who likes whatever is put in front of him." He smiled. "That's rather the point of my office."

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