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“Damned good venison. It may be the best meal we’ve had since we left home.

” Lord Garrick wiped the grease from his fingers and reached for a cup of wine.

“The thought of less meat during Advent depresses me. We’ll be in royal company with the finest cooks and best cuts of meat and can have them only once a day. ”

“Quality always increases the closer we get to the city. Though you don’t care for fish, I am sure the dishes served at court will be more than satisfactory.” Lady Agnes pushed away her empty plate and patted her stomach. “Now if only we had a comfortable mattress.”

Melissa stared into the fire. An ember popped and hit her skirt, shaking her from her thoughts. She brushed the cinder off and examined the tiny burn mark in the heavy wool. “Are wizards and magic real?”

“What?” Her father looked at her as if she had two heads, and then smirked. “I am certain of it. Watch me conjure up an evil spirit.” He reached over and pinched his wife’s bottom. She gave a yelp then began a torrent of reprimands. “See?”

“You tease me. I suppose it was a silly question.”

“Daughter, you will see many wondrous things in the next month.” He patted her hand awkwardly, but the smile reached his gray eyes that now matched the streaks in his dark hair. “You shall make an excellent wife. Your mother taught you well.”

Both women blushed at the praise. “Watch the festivities closely,” Agnes advised, pushing a pale blonde lock behind her ear. “The Duke of Sunderland entertains often.”

“Yea, my lady.” She reached in her pocket, her fingers closing around the lemon balm leaves. With a little rub, the citrus scent drifted up, and she inhaled deeply.

“Are you nervous, dear? That scent has calmed you since before you were born. I remember when your grandmother gave me the Melissa plant leaves to soothe me while I carried you. Afterward, I hoped the name would somehow impart a sense of tranquility and composure in your life.” She winked at her husband.

“She is composed, I suppose, but tranquil?”

Her parents’ laughter faded when they saw Melissa’s offended look.

Agnes squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Take heart, my girl. This trip has been difficult but soon the excitement will begin.”

“You are right. But at this moment, I only look forward to a good night of sleep,” Melissa answered, returning their smile. “Mother, you must be tired too.”

The older woman stifled a yawn. “My lord, with your permission, we ladies shall retire. I believe you sent our traveling bags upstairs?”

“Yea, Agnes.” He, too, let out a loud yawn and stretched his arms above his head. “I won’t be long. I need to speak with my marshal and be sure the horses are well attended.”

Melissa kissed her mother goodnight and entered her own room.

Beatrice, a plump woman with frizzy, burnished curls, met her at the door.

She had unpacked her mistress’ nightclothes and laid a pallet in front of a small fire crackling in the brazier.

It always comforted her to know the maid was near.

“Just a sneeze away,” Bea had told her since childhood.

But neither she nor the lemon balm worked to relieve the tightness in her stomach this night.

“Why can you not come with me?”

The older woman gently brushed Melissa’s long blonde waves as she spoke.

“You no longer need me, my lady. You’re all grown and soon to be mistress of your own home.

It’s only nerves. Once you are settled, your duties will keep you so busy I will be an occasional thought.

I love you like my own and will always be here when you need me.

” She pressed her hand over Melissa’s heart.

She turned and gave Beatrice a hug. “I fear my mind is too full and will not rest. Help me to bed and sing to me until I fall asleep.” She listened to the poignant Scottish melody and let the haunting tones soothe her nerves.

Bea’s low, husky voice quieted Melissa’s whirling thoughts and her eyes finally closed.

Vivid dreams interrupted her slumber. She stood shivering in a small grove then turned at the sound of a familiar voice.

“I have waited for you.” A falcon stared at her from a branch, but with a blink, he became the mysterious soldier on the hill.

“Come down right now,” she commanded and rubbed the goosebumps that prickled her arms. “How can you wait for me when we have never met?”

“You are my destiny.”

“Ridiculous. You are neither man nor animal.” Yet the blood rushing to her cheeks and the warmth that spread through her body said otherwise.

He was indeed a man, whether he looked at her from under a hood or the eyes of a falcon.

When she peered up at the tree again, he had vanished, and she cried out for him.

Her skin chilled with his absence, and her heart grew heavy.

“Please don’t go. I would take back my harsh words.”

A whisper tickled her ear. “We shall meet again.”

Melissa sat bolt upright in bed; her heart pounded as if she had just reined in a runaway horse. She clutched the damp shift to her chest and tried to catch her breath. Using the bed sheets to wipe the sweat from her face, she lay back down on the lumpy mattress.

What kind of sorcerer are you? Why do you invade my sleep? Leave me be.

But when she closed her lids, she knew golden eyes watched her from a distance. A soft, low chant lulled her back into a fitful slumber.