“The more regal I look, the more respect I shall get,” she said, more hopefully than she felt as she adjusted her spire-high hennin with its azure blue veil. Cecily was a head taller than many of her companions, and she intended to exploit her height and wardrobe to inspire awe in her daring enterprise.

Cecily had told Nurse Anne to clothe her charges in somber clothes as their mother hoped the troops they must surely face would only focus on her and not her young, vulnerable sons.

“Father’s gone now, hasn’t he? And Ned and Edmund?” Dickon asked as they waited for the duchess in their chamber. Nurse Anne nodded.

“What do you mean ‘gone’?” George demanded, but stopped as Cecily entered. Even Dickon was lost for words when she appeared in the doorway, resplendent in her purple mantle over dark blue gown, her magnificent sapphire necklace sparkling at her throat.

Quietly she told the dumbfounded George of the flight. Kneeling between the boys, she took a hand in each of hers and smiled encouragingly. “Are you ready to embark on an adventure?”

George was dubious. “An ad…adventure, Mam? What kind of adventure?”

“We shall go to the king and prevail upon his mercy. He will not harm us, I am sure of it.”

“’Tis the best plan, George,” Dickon assured his incredulous brother. “I heard it all last night when I couldn’t sleep…”

“And you didn’t wake me?” George cried, pummeling Dickon. “How dare you?”

“Enough!” Cecily pulled the boys apart. “This is not the time to fight. I know this is a shock, George, but you must listen to me carefully. If I have my two strong boys with me, I think I can be as brave as any warrior as we go to find the king. Do you think you can be brave with me?” she asked.

Dickon’s heart was thumping. What was his mother thinking? Surely not to walk through the town to the king’s pavilion pitched high on Whitcliff Hill? How could he tell her that all the shouting and screaming he could hear from the chamber window and the smoke rising over the castle walls frightened him. He was ashamed of his fear until he looked across at George and saw the terror on his brother’s face as well. He forced his legs to stop trembling and nodded at his mother. “I can try,” he whispered.

George drew himself up and in a steady voice said, “Me, too.”

“Then let us join the others in the great hall. Come, boys.”

Once there, Cecily marshaled her women, Meg among them, and straightened a headdress here, tweaked a cloak there. Looking around, she suddenly demanded: “Where is Doctor LeMaitre? Dear God, do not tell me she has already gone to tend the wounded?”

Beatrice nodded. “She left early, Your Grace.”