In the distance, she heard the shrill cry of the wading birds on the mudflats on the Thames and shuddered.
‘Lizzie,’ exclaimed her father as she entered the mews where the birds lived ten minutes later. ‘Have you had enough of embroidery?’
‘To last a lifetime,’ she said. ‘There will always be another shirt to embroider, I am missing nothing.’
Male laughter greeted her comment, and she turned to see there were two other young men with her brothers. One was a stranger, but the other – the tall man with dark hair and piercing brown eyes – was Thomas Boleyn, a friend of her brother Edmund’s and a rising star at court.
‘Come join us, Lizzie,’ her father continued. ‘You remember Thomas Boleyn?’
‘Yes, we have met several times at court,’ Elizabeth replied and cursed herself for blushing as Thomas bowed, his smile widening at the sight of her.
‘This is John Shelton, who is betrothed to Thomas’s older sister, Anne,’ her father said, and the other man bowed.
‘Who will soon be my wife,’ Shelton said before turning to the earl and continuing. ‘My apologies, Sir, that was tactless. You are a house in mourning, discussions of my upcoming nuptials are insensitive.’
The earl nodded his acknowledgement but gave the young man a warm smile.
‘Love is always a balm to sadness,’ he said. ‘You must grasp it with both hands and cherish it forever.’
John Shelton looked relieved. Elizabeth glanced at Thomas Boleyn who was staring at her, his expression one of intensity and consideration. She gave him a shy smile and was gratified when, this time, it was his cheeks which stained pink and he looked away, disconcerted.
‘Let’s fly these birds while the weather is on our side,’ said Edward, grinning at his sister. ‘Lizzie, I’ll call the cadger and we can transfer the birds to the field. Will you be flying your new merlin or spectating?’
‘If Master Davey believes she is ready, I’d like to fly her,’ said Elizabeth, turning to the tall, weather-beaten man at the far end of the mews, who was organising the falconers, cadgers and other staff.
‘She’s a beautiful girl – unusual, too,’ said Davey, pointing to the haughty bird who preened herself in one of the larger stalls. ‘You don’t see many white falcons. She’s haggard now and ready to fly. We’ve been working with her for a few weeks and she’s fierce.’
Elizabeth walked over to the stall and stood beside Davey. The term haggard meant the young bird had reached her full plumage and, Elizabeth agreed, the bird was indeed at her best, she was stunning. Her chest was a creamy white dotted with tiny flecks of light brown, her yellow legs were bright and strong and her dark eyes pierced Elizabeth as though she could read her mind.I shall hunt for you if you respect me, she seemed to say.
As the bird opened her pale compact pointed wings and spread her narrow, white square-ended tail, Elizabeth remembered the broken-hearted falcon inThe Squire’s Taleand wondered whether birds did fall in love.
Was this bird pining for a lost lover?Or was she, like Elizabeth, primed and ready to find her lifelong companion and build a happy family?
Thomas Boleyn joined Elizabeth and peered at the bird.
‘What a splendid creature,’ he murmured. ‘Does she have a name?’
‘Canacee,’ replied Elizabeth, even though she had not yet named the bird or even thought of doing so, but this fell from her lips as though it had always been there.
‘FromThe Squire’s Tale,’ murmured Thomas. ‘How appropriate. Every flight will build her strength and confidence until you have a hunter of whom you will be proud.’
‘Have you read Chaucer’sTales?’ asked Elizabeth in surprise.
‘Many times, and I findThe Squire’s Talefascinating. It’s a shame the franklin interrupted and cut him short. I was desperate to hear more tales about the magic ring and how the falcon was reunited with her lover, even before he spoke of Genghis Khan’s sons.’
‘It was a tragic loss, although I did enjoy the tale of the knight, Arveragus, and his wife, Dorigen, with their marriage based on equality and respect, a love and friendship that survived despite the challenges thrown at them by Aurelius and his magician.’
Elizabeth gazed up into Thomas’s dark eyes and felt the rest of the world fall away. The experience was new, vital, exciting, but at the same time fraught with fear as she felt her heart pounding. Thomas, too, seemed frozen to the spot.
‘You are astonishing, Lady Elizabeth,’ he whispered.
An amused cough behind them broke the spell and the earl said, ‘Let us adjourn to the fields where the temperature is cooler.’
With a wink, he raised his arm to escort his daughter. Elizabeth felt flustered but placed her hand on her father’s wrist, wondering if he were about to scold her.
‘It seems the time has come when I must lose you to another’s care,’ he said, his voice gentle.
‘Father, I am sorry…’
