Page 40 of May Queen: May Day

Chapter 11

Flora had just finished dressing the next morning when there came a knock at her door. Her handmaid was running a brush through Flora’s hair, but stopped immediately.

“Albreda, who could that possibly be?” asked Flora, still feeling tired from not having slept well the night before. She had been looking forward to walking through the garden with Ricard, but after what happened at the meal, she became very angry. She didn’t know if she could trust him at all now.

“I’ll see, my lady.” The old woman handed Flora the brush, hobbled to the door, and pulled it open.

“Good morning, Albreda. I’m here to see Lady Flora,” came Ricard’s voice.

“I’m not here,” Flora called out when she saw Ricard standing there with his hand behind his back. Anger rose within her again. She brushed her long hair furiously.

“Of course you are here, my lady,” said Ricard. “I can see and hear you.”

“Well, I don’t want to see or hear you.” She put down the brush and picked up an ornate, jeweled hair comb with butterflies on it. Pulling back one side of her hair, she pushed the comb into place.

“My lady, he is your betrothed as well as lord of the castle,” her handmaid reminded her. “It would be courteous to at least hear what he has to say.”

“Fine,” Flora answered with a sigh. “Let him in, but only for a minute. And leave the door open.”

Albreda stepped to the side and Ricard entered. Flora saw him in the mirror as he approached behind her.

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” he said.

“So, are you admitting you were having your squire spy on me?” Her eyes met his in the mirror in challenge.

“I do admit it, but I want you to know that I had your best interests as well as your safety in mind.”

“Humph,” she snorted. “More likely you were trying to get information out of me so you can find and kill off the Druids.”

He pulled a bouquet of beautiful flowers out from behind his back. “I thought since we never made it to the garden for our stroll and to smell the flowers, I would bring the flowers to you instead.” He walked up next to her, offering her the bouquet.

Flora looked at his peace offering, no longer feeling like she could remain angry with him. She loved flowers. The tulips and daffodils smelled so sweet that it reminded her of her mother’s flower garden where she’d spent so much time back at her uncle’s castle.

“They’re beautiful,” she said in a soft voice, reaching out with shaking hands to take them. No man had ever given her flowers before.

“They cannot compare to your beauty, my lady.” Ricard gently reached out to run a hand over her hair. She sniffed the flowers and when she looked up into the mirror, she realized that when he’d touched her hair he had stuck a snip of a pink hyacinth beneath the hair comb. The sweet aroma filled the room. “Will you forgive me, and can we go for our stroll in the garden now?”

“Well . . . I don’t know.” She met Albreda’s gaze in the mirror next. The woman nodded, telling her to go. “I suppose so,” she said, standing up. He immediately had his hand under her elbow, assisting her.

“I was hoping we could get to know each other better,” he said. “After all, our wedding is only days away.”

“I would like that, too,” she agreed.

“It’s still a little chilly this morning, so you’ll need your cloak.

“It’s right here,” said her handmaid, hurrying over with her cloak in hand.

Ricard took it from the woman and wrapped it around Flora’s shoulders. Then he fastened the brooch at the front, standing so close to her that she could feel his body heat emanating from him. His clothes smelled like sunshine and fresh air.

“There we are,” he said, looking into her eyes and then reaching up to fix the comb and flower in her hair. She stared into his eyes, feeling as if she could see past the outer wall of protection he used. She wanted to break down that wall and find out what was behind the knight. Who was this man and what were his strengths and his weaknesses? How did he treat a woman? Her mind couldn’t help from wondering how he made love, as well.

“My lady,” said Ricard, offering her his arm. She gently placed her hand on his forearm and left the room with him escorting her out to the garden.

“Good day, my lord and lady,” said a knight respectfully with a bow.

“My lord and lady,” said several more people as they made their way past the great hall. Flora felt special and honored when she was with Ricard. Her uncle used to shame her and her mother and belittle them any chance he had. Here, things were different. Now, Flora didn’t feel like naught but a mistake or a bastard child. Here, she felt like a true queen.

They approached the garden and Ricard escorted her down a pebble path lined with blooming crocuses and hyacinths in colors of purple, white and pink. The sweet, strong aroma of the flowers filled the area. Dogwoods and cheery trees were in bloom and tulips and daffodils opened to the sun. They approached a bench overlooking a small pond. Two ducks lazily floated by on the water.