It was to begin a mere five minutes from now. Gabrielle tapped her toe impatiently on the carpeted floor. Her full rose silk skirt rustled as she shifted uncomfortably on the settee. The movement encouraged a spirally black curl to fall forward over her right shoulder. The settee looked fragile, and she always worried the delicate, spindley legs might someday collapse beneath the burden of her weight. Thus far had proved to be a solid, trustworthy piece of furniture. Commanding an impromptu, private audience with one of her ladies was not Elizabeth's custom, especially a meeting so early in the day. Everyone at court knew Her Majesty was a late riser. So why had Elizabeth done it? Gabrielle wondered. Why today? And, more importantly, why with her? A noise in the corridor outside snagged Gabrielle's attention. Her green eyes jerked upward, fixing on the oak door. A distinct metal-on-metal grinding sound announced the door was being unlatched from without. Gabrielle's pulse accelerated. Why, she wondered again, had Elizabeth called this unexpected audience?
