The tension of Jamie’s stance, alert to every danger, showed he expected trouble. She was so frightened now she wanted to throw herself at him.
“Out. Now.” He spoke in a sharp voice as he looked to the left and right of the carriage.
She grasped the hand he held out to her and found herself almost flying through the air. Then his arm was about her waist, holding her tight against his side. Her feet barely touched the ground as they followed the queen and FitzAlan through a low doorway. Judging from the low arched ceiling of the passageway, they were in an undercroft.
“We are in the kitchens?” she heard the queen say.
“ ’Tis the safest route, Your Highness,” FitzAlan said.
Smells of roasting meats and warm bread wafted out to them as Jamie hurried her past the noisy entrance to the kitchen.
“What is the danger here?” she asked him.
“Hurry now.” Jamie kept one hand on her and held his sword in the other as he moved her along. All the while, his eyes searched side to side and behind them. Linnet caught glimpses of barrels and pots and sacks of grain as they continued along the passageway past various storerooms.
“But what is happening?” Linnet said. “Tell me.”
“Not now.”
They came to a narrow servants’ staircase. FitzAlan led the way and helped the queen after him.
“You first,” Jamie said, a firm hand at her back.
She lifted her skirts and ducked her head. The dark, enclosed stairwell seemed to have been made for smaller people. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw Jamie taking the first steps backward, his sword at the ready.
Dear God, what was this? Linnet gave her arm a sharp shake, so that the handle of her thin dagger fell into her palm.
After climbing three flights without pausing, she was perspiring. Whether it was from exertion or fear, she could not say. The sounds of the men’s boots and her own labored breathing echoed in her ears in the enclosed space. When FitzAlan opened a door above her, the sudden noise of a great many voices startled her.
As FitzAlan held the door and waved them forward, Linnet stepped over the stone threshold and ducked through the low doorway on the queen’s heels.
She found herself in a half-open corridor or gallery. Shouting filled the air, echoing off the walls and ceiling. Linnet went at once to peer over the railing. Below her was a vast hall filled with people. They were yelling and raising sticks in the air.
Jamie grabbed her by the arm and snatched her back from the railing. “Along here,” he ordered, pointing ahead. “Stay close to the wall.”
FitzAlan was at the other end of the gallery, holding another door open for them. The queen gave Linnet a terrified look over her shoulder before ducking through the doorway.
When Linnet followed her, she felt as if she had stepped into another world. She was in an oak-paneled room with tall, cheval-glass windows on one wall and exquisite tapestries on the others. Through the doorway opposite, she could see several connecting rooms.
“Where are we?” She tilted her head back to take in the elaborate ceiling with its even rows of carved paterae.
Queen Katherine looked about her and heaved a sigh. “We are in the queen’s apartments.”
“You’ll be safe here,” FitzAlan said. “We have guards posted at all the doors.”
“I will advise His Grace the Duke of Bedford that you have arrived,” Jamie said to the queen. “He will want to explain the situation to you himself.”
“You are not leaving us, are you?” the queen said before Linnet could get the words out. “After frightening us half to death, you cannot abandon us.”
“My father will stay with you while I—”
“My son will stay with you,” FitzAlan interrupted. “Jamie, I have other matters to attend to now that we have them away from that crowd.”
“Why were all those men carrying sticks and bats?” Linnet asked.
“Jamie can explain.” Tilting his head toward the door they had come through, he said to Jamie, “I’ll send a few more men up to guard the servants’ entrance.”
With that, FitzAlan dipped his head in the general direction of the queen and Linnet and departed.
