Welcome to
the candlelit courts of Europe!
Uninvited guests at a secret wedding.
A frozen River Thames.
May Day celebrations to remember.
The young Henry VIII, with the aid of his chief advisor, Thomas Wolsey, and against the counsel of Thomas Howard, the Earl of Surrey, is hellbent on a so-called holy war with France. This puts him at odds with his Scottish brother-in-law, James IV of Scotland, and his older sister, Margaret.
Both Tristan and Nicolas know that time is running out for them before they have to…enter the Church - and into an arranged marriage, respectively. In the meantime, they remain at loggerheads over pretty Ysabeau de Sapincourt, the spoilt young wife of the hapless Robert.
At La Colombe, near Ardres, in Picardy, spirited little Valentine is still making mischief as she sees fit.
Across the Narrow Sea, Cecily is perfectly content in her beloved Zennor Castle, in Cornwall.
None of them know what Dame Fortune has in store for them. Will she allow them to follow their own paths…or has she got other ideas?
EXCERPT
The
following passage is the first time Valentine de Fleury appears in Beware the
Lizard Lurking, up to mischief as usual. The eldest daughter (with four sisters) of Charles, a baron,
nine-year-old Valentine is aware that her father is in desperate need of a male
heir. If not, the entire family estate will pass to a distant male cousin. Close
neighbours of the Ardres family at the nearby Castle, Valentine enjoys nothing
more than bating Tristan, the younger son who is destined for a cloistered life
in the Church.
Saint Valentine’s Day, 1513.
La Colombe. Picardy, France.
Valentine was bored. She’d sought out Béatrice but now she was being shooed into the garden, and told to go and find Bonne and her little sisters.
‘I need to go the kitchens and ask Maître Jacques for some soft-boiled eggs for your mother,’ said the housekeeper. ‘Her food was too salty yesterday. Everyone knows that an excess of salt in a woman’s diet results in a babe born without nails.’ She gave Valentine a gentle push. ‘Vas-y, ma petite. And don’t take your mittens off. You’ll catch a rheum.’
Valentine shuddered at the thought of this latest little baby brother being born without nails. Poor Maman. Preparing for a babe seemed very tiresome, especially as you spent your days sore ailing. And all that for a babe who was born sickly and ended up in the churchyard of Notre-Dame de Grâce. <<I’m quite sure I never want to be with child>>
Wandering down to the herb garden, from the steps above, Valentine could see two of her sisters but they were with Barbe, the pastry cook’s young daughter, not Bonne. Knowing there would be little likelihood of Barbe wondering where she was, Valentine decided to seize the opportunity to go off on an adventure.
<<I’ll go to the Castle to see what Tristan’s up to. It’ll vex him and give me some sport. Everyone here’s been far too busy to remember it’s Saint Valentine’s Day, as well as my name day>>
Even though it was still early in the morning, Valentine had convinced herself there’d be no gifts for anyone this year. She was quite certain she’d have more luck chasing a moonbeam in May than waiting around at La Colombe. All of a sudden, she brightened at the thought of going over to the Castle. <<Who knows, they might be giving each other gifts and I might get some marchpane from their cook>>
*
Deciding to take a short cut, she hurried across several frost-gilded fields, and up a very long winding path to reach the Castle. She could feel her spirits lifting the moment she set eyes upon Tristan’s magnificent family home, nestled comfortably on a hill high above the banks of a lake. She and her father often passed it on one of their many walks so she knew that it was several hundred years old, and each successive member of the Ardres family had inherited it from his own father.
<<Unlike our home. And poor Papa who might have to suffer a distant cousin coming to live at La Colombe, just because all of his children are girls>>
Although this thought made her chest feel very tight, Valentine allowed the scene before her to soothe away such unwelcome thoughts. She turned to look back down at the lake. Pretty blue turrets, sunlight playing on the walls, various trees and, in particular, a nearby overhanging weeping willow, were all reflected quite spectacularly in the water lapping against the sides.
She knew all about the Castle’s history from her father who delighted in teaching her facts from far-off times. Tristan’s family home dated back five hundred years: to when the first Comte d’Ardres, commanded by Duke William of Normandy to visit the Abbot of Saint Michael’s Mount in Cornwall, England, with the Abbot of the Mont Saint-Michel (who lived near the original family seat, not far from Saint-Malo) had taken a fancy to the green, fertile countryside, and decided to build his principal dwelling there. Ever since that time, the black and golden eagle of the Ardres coat-of-arms - with its outstretched wings signifying protection - had been proudly displayed above the entrance to the Castle.
“And,” her father had told her, “every single lord and master who’s ever lived there has tried his best to live up to the family motto: ‘Verum animi et robore mentis’.”
*
Skipping across the drawbridge as she’d done so many times before, Valentine walked under the arch, past the heavy studded gates and entered the large courtyard. Half-expecting to find Tristan there, she was slightly crestfallen when she came across his brother, Gilles, and the Count’s ward, Nicolas, engaged in a noisy sword fight. Nicolas was obviously much more accomplished than the Ardres heir (a worthy claimant to the family fortune, like the one her father was longing to appear at La Colombe), and as light on his feet as one of the acrobats who’d performed at her home on Twelfth Night.
Both young men were comely but Nicolas was by far the more eye-catching, she decided. With his dark eyes, curls as black as a pail of tar, and a well-shaped mouth, now pressed tight in concentration, she could see why all the maids at La Colombe admired him. They were both so engrossed in their game that she stood there for several long minutes before they noticed her. Holding up his sword straight in front of him to signal to Gilles that he was taking a break, Nicolas gave her a sweeping bow.
‘Bonjour, ma petite Valentine. Have you come to watch two knights in training?’
‘Ou—’
‘Non!’ interrupted Gilles, mopping his brow with a large white handkerchief. ‘She’s come to smile prettily at our cook, knowing he can’t resist her charms. He’ll probably make her some tasty titbit, such as a necklace of dried fruit and almonds that’s been caramelized using the heat of the fire. C’est vrai, n’est-ce pas, Valentine?’
Nicolas smiled at her. ‘And why shouldn’t the cook give her something? As it’s your name day today, it’s only fitting that you should have a gift.’
‘Merci, Nicolas!’ exclaimed Valentine, jumping up and down in the air, clapping her hands together. ‘Everyone at La Colombe is far too triste to bother with any of that.’
‘Then we must make amends right away,’ he replied. ‘Come, let’s go to the kitchens.’
‘What about your fight?’
‘Oh, don’t trouble yourself about that,’ said Gilles, looking quite relieved, she thought. ‘Nicò has got the better of me as usual.’
Valentine watched Nicolas reach out and slap Gilles on the shoulders. ‘Bravissimo, mio amico! We’ll make a swordsman out of you yet.’
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Vivienne Brereton
Born between historic Winchester and Southampton in the UK, Vivienne has been passionate about the Tudors for as long as she can remember. This led to a degree in Medieval History at university, and the growing desire to write a novel.
However, life took over somewhat and only after stays, short and long, in six countries she called home did she finally settle down to finish her novel.
Words have always played an important part in her life, whether it's been writing, editing, teaching English, or just picking up a good book.
Having three sons came in very handy when she had to write about squabbles between the male characters in her novel. Not so handy when she took her boys to Hampton Court and one of them got lost in the maze!
Seeing 'A Phoenix Rising', the first book in the series 'The House of the Red Duke' in print for the first time was a moment of great joy for her. She very much hopes that anyone reading ‘Beware the Lizard Lurking’, the second book in the series, will enjoy the end result as much as she enjoyed writing it.
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