The Gilded Crown

by Catherine A. Wilson

  ‘Come.’ Gillet relinquished the goshawk which had entertained him for the better part of an hour to the apprentice. ‘Let us go for a ride.’ The stable boys raced to untie Inferno and Ruby from the roped horses in their care and offered Cécile a mounting block. Once in the saddle, the couple discreetly made their way towards a bridle track.

  ‘Will we not be missed?’ inquired Cécile.

  ‘Yes, but they will think I am trying to woo you.’ Gillet flashed his ‘Albret’ smile.

  ‘Ah, well. There goes my reputation,’ mumbled Cécile.

  Two sets of eyes watched with interest as the pair disappeared into the shrubbery.

  ‘And so, Albret makes his move,’ snorted Humphrey de Bohan, retying a bait to his bird line.

  ‘Hmm.’ Katherine Beauchamp frowned and blew on her hot, spiced posset. ‘I’m not so convinced it’s the tryst you think, Humphrey, dear.’ She took a sip.

  ‘Why do you say that, Aunt?’

  ‘Because I took pains to observe the lady’s hand last night and, on close inspection, I saw a white mark on her marriage finger.’

  Humphrey scowled. ‘Meaning?’

  Lady Katherine held out her hand and, with her thumb, slid her wedding band aside to reveal the soft, pale skin beneath.

  Humphrey sucked in his breath. ‘So, you are saying Lady Holland has removed a ring. What of it?’ The hammer struck the anvil. ‘A nuptial band! She is married. Ho! Albret sets cuckolds horns upon someone.’ He let out a guffaw but Katherine shook her head.

  ‘No, dear. I’ve observed enough wedded couples to know their behaviour and unless I’m missing my mark – and I do not think I am – I’m saying Albret is the husband. He was verily peeved last night when I accompanied them to Lady Holland’s room.’

  ‘Perhaps you ruined his plans for a midnight assignation?’

  Lady Katherine tapped her chin. ‘No, their manner was not that of two lovers. ’Twas more an angry husband and a disobedient wife, and believe me, I know the signs. What I cannot understand is the secrecy. An Albret-Holland alliance would be considered an excellent match by any standards.’

  Humphrey considered his aunt’s theory. ‘And do not forget they were together for weeks in Chilham.’

  ‘Then we must assume they wedded without permission.’

  ‘You are assuming, Katherine, they married willingly.’

  Katherine smiled. ‘Oh, it was willingly. Don’t get me wrong, Humphrey.’ Her smile deepened and she blew again upon her cup. ‘Those two are very much in love.’

  By the time Gillet halted Inferno, Cécile thought she would burst. They had ridden deep into the forest, far away from prying eyes.

  ‘At last!’ she exclaimed as she kicked her feet loose from the stirrups and accepted his arms to lift her from the saddle.

  ‘Yes, at last. Now, would you mind telling me what brings you all the way to Bordeaux? How did you escape Gisors? I left you as a “guest” to Duc de Berri in lieu of my mission and he did not seem likely to let you go.’

  With the moment upon her, Cécile could not decide which issue to lay at her husband’s feet first. ‘Gillet, I know not in what order to tell you. Do I begin with Armand catching the plague,’ then seeing the terror on Gillet’s face she quickly added, ‘but he survived! By now he should just about be in Scotland.’

  ‘Scotland?’

  ‘Yes, trying to locate Jean Petit. Anaïs kidnapped him but only after she killed Margot and had Gabriel arrested for the crime, but that was after I was almost burned at the stake.’ She caught sight of Gillet’s horrified expression and took a deep breath. ‘I was released from Gisors on an errand for the Vicomtesse and we were on our way here with a message for you when we became trapped within the plague-ridden village of Vernon. Then, as we tried to escape, Armand discovered a bubo in his armpit and refused to go, so Gabriel took Margot, Minette and Jean Petit to safety in Le Goulet, and I stayed to nurse Armand. But then Raynaud – he’s the blacksmith who helped us in Vernon and we left him in Le Goulet – had a friend looking for her brother who turned out to be Anaïs trying to locate Robiérre. They had been following us. She had me accused of heresy, imprisoned and …’ Cécile felt a huge surge of emotion. She threw herself into Gillet’s arms and burst into tears. ‘It has been terrible these last weeks without you!’

  Yet another half hour passed before Gillet felt he had the full story. He and Cécile sat on their cloaks and he made her recite each piece slowly, bit by bit, in order of the events, including her mission. When she finished, he let out a great sigh.

  ‘Poor Margot. Lord, how do I tell Arnaud?’

  Cécile dabbed her lashes and sniffed into her sleeve. ‘You do not. He will hold you responsible and you’ll find yourself facing a civil case for dereliction of duty. That’s if he doesn’t want to kill you first. We must locate the Vicomtesse’s agents here at court, deliver her message and get ourselves out of here. You said it yourself, Sir John Felton will send to Edward with news of my arrival.’ She turned her husband’s face so that he focused on her. ‘Do you suppose if Edward knows we are in Bordeaux he is just going to let us walk away? Gillet, your task is completed. Arnaud-Amanieu refused the Dauphin’s offer and he will give his fealty to Edward. I am sorry as you for the death of Margot but we must now do Blanche d’Évreux’s bidding and be gone as quickly as possible for our own safety.’

  ‘Yes, but I promised Arn I would stay for the fealty service tomorrow. We shall leave after that.’ Gillet drew his wife into his embrace and kissed the top of her head. ‘Chérie, I can only imagine what you have been through. Forgive me, my sweet, for doubting you. When I saw you last night, all I could think was of the peril in which you had placed yourself but danger has been your constant companion since my departure and I blame myself for not being there.’ He extended his arms, his gaze searching her face. ‘What if I had lost you to la Peste or … or the flames?’ Gillet crushed her hard against him and Cécile gave herself up to his presence with a sigh of contentment.

  ‘But you did not, my love.’

  ‘My sweet Cécile.’ His lips claimed hers and he pulled at the wimple. ‘Since when did you take to wearing such things?’ He removed it only to fall back open-mouthed. ‘Cécile.’

  Cécile felt the heat flush her cheeks. Self-consciously she dabbed at her shortened hair, now curling just below her ears. ‘They cut it when I was in prison,’ she whispered. Her lips trembled and she dropped her gaze. ‘Do you think me ugly?’

  Gillet roused himself. ‘No!’ He gathered her to his breast and hugged her hard. ‘I think you the bravest woman I have ever known.’ He raised her chin and his protective kiss quickly grew to the fiery demands of a husband.

  ‘What if someone comes?’ whispered Cécile as he loosened her laces and slid his hand beneath her gown.

  ‘Inferno will let us know.’ The horse stood close by, its head nodding. ‘He can hear a mouse creep to cheese.’ Swiftly, Gillet raised Cécile’s skirt and untied the cord of his braies. ‘Besides, my honour demands you return looking dishevelled.’

  ‘Dishevelled? More like debauched! And what of my honour?’ scoffed Cécile as she guided her husband home.

  Exhausted and breathless, Gillet and Cécile lay on their backs and looked up into the clouds, contentment written on their faces.

  ‘Good Lord! How do the wives walk after their husbands return from a campaign months long?’

  Gillet’s grin widened. ‘Usually bow-legged.’

  ‘Twice in as many minutes and three in thirty!’

  Gillet rolled over. ‘Hush.’ He sealed her lips with a kiss. ‘You do not tease a man over his boyish eagerness, especially if it is derived from marital abstinence.’

  ‘Ha! Go tell that to your red-headed harpy. She glowers at me as though I am Satan’s mistress in the flesh,’ grumbled Cécile.

  ‘Churl,’ said Gillet, laughing. ‘Do you blame the rock for the number of barnacles clinging to it? Come, my crumpled wife, you look suitably ravaged and w
e should be getting back but first tell me the names of the Vicomtesse’s agents.’

  Cécile screwed her face in concentration as she counted off her fingers. ‘Phillipe de Bellême, Charles du Perche and Henri d’Argentan. What’s wrong?’

  Gillet had paled. ‘Come.’ He laced up his braies and pulled Cécile to her feet.

  ‘Why? Gillet, what’s wrong?’

  ‘We are both correct in our assumptions. You, for saying we must be gone from this court as soon as possible, and I, for thinking you are in danger. Phillipe de Bellême died last week, a fall from a runaway horse supposedly, and Charles du Perche was found the week before, his body dredged from the depths of the Gironde. He’d been missing a sennight. Both men made themselves known to me upon my arrival. I can only guess someone knows they were to meet with an agent from the Vicomtesse. Pray that “someone” does not know that person is you. I have no idea who Henri d’Argentan is but we can only hope the man is still alive.’

  Bonneuil laced up his concubine’s gown and giving her backside a playful slap sent her from his bed of hay. ‘Do not forget your promise. You will look today?’ He saw the doubt on her disfigured face and a warning note entered his tone. ‘This scroll is nothing to us but it is everything to the man I serve. And he is rich, very rich. Understand? No more airing out dresses for bitches who sniff down their noses at you. And you can have some measure of revenge on those who did that.’ He waved at her unsightly scars and she nodded. For a moment his conscience bit and he pulled her back and ran his thumb over the deeply carved mark against her lip. ‘I’ll make you my queen. Give you a house, a dozen brats and anything else that greedy little heart of yours desires. Just do this for me. You are one of the few with access the Prince’s suite. It has to be there, somewhere in his chamber. Look for a small chest hidden away.’ He kissed her hard. ‘Say you’ll do this for us.’

  Minutes later he watched her go with a sigh of regret. She had known a fancy trick or two beneath the sheets but once he had the scroll, he would disappear. She would never see him again. Moleyns had been breathing down his neck hard. And he was yet to clap eyes on Albret.

  Cécile threw her cloak over the stool and collapsed across the bed. ‘Order a bath for me, Minette. I want to soak until the sun goes down.’ She rolled onto her back and stared at the beamed ceiling, smiling as she recalled the last hour in her husband’s arms. Her thoughts were disrupted by a knocking.

  ‘That will be the Mistress of the Robes, Milady,’ informed Minette. ‘She called earlier and said she would return.’

  ‘Very well.’ It was said upon a sigh as Cécile dragged herself from the soft covers. ‘Open the door.’

  Minette bid entrance and the woman swept in and curtseyed. ‘Lady Holland.’

  Cécile caught sight of the ruined face and squealed excitedly. ‘Odette!’ She threw her arms around her friend from The Thorn and Thistle inn, the same girl who had helped her escape the Black Prince’s clutches in Paris. ‘I cannot believe it!’

  Odette gawked, then affectionately returned the enthusiastic hug. ‘Lady d’Armagnac!’

  ‘Hush.’ Cécile waved for a gaping Minette to close the chamber door and pulled her friend to sit on the bed. ‘I am Lady Holland now. Best not mention Armagnac in this court. But how do you come to be here?’ Cécile’s attention was drawn to the scars. She reached out to gently touch them. ‘Please do not say you suffered this on my account?’

  Odette dropped her gaze.

  Cécile felt her blood rising. ‘Was it Edward?’ She raised Odette’s chin. ‘Tell me.’

  Odette sniffed away the threatening tears. ‘No, it was one of the soldiers but the Prince stood foreby and watched. He was so angry when you disappeared. Later, I think his temper cooled and he gave me leave to join his new court with a rise in my status.’ She grasped Cécile’s hand. ‘But I’m not staying! I have met a man who is prepared to marry me, even looking as I do.’

  ‘Then I am happy for you. Come, tell me it all.’

  Minette served them wine and, on her mistress’s invitation, pulled up a stool to join them. Odette’s story did not take long. The Prince had left her coin for the damage wrought upon her face, together with a letter of introduction and instruction for her to present herself in Bordeaux in due course. When Marguerite and Philippe returned to the inn, they banished Odette to the kitchen, her appearance no longer palatable to customers. Unhappy, Odette left and made her way to Bordeaux where she had lived in the shadows on her princely grant until the court opened its doors. Then she met Eustace and her whole world had changed overnight.

  Cécile smiled warmly and took her friend’s hand. ‘If there is ever anything I can do. You suffered because of me.’

  Odette sighed. ‘I suffered because I refused to speak. That was my own choice, Lady d’Armag … Holland. You never instructed me to hold my tongue.’ Her face suddenly lit up. ‘But did you mean it? You’d help me? For there is something you can do, Milady.’

  Cécile nodded just as there was another knock. Moments later, a blushing Minette watched as Griffith bowed to the women.

  ‘Milady, Milord has granted me temporary reprieve from my duties and I was wondering if … if I might … if you might …’ He glanced at Minette, his face flooding to the colour of new beets.

  ‘If you and I might what?’ teased Cécile. Minette threw her mistress a desperate glance and Cécile laughed. ‘Shoo! The pair of you! But return her by vespers, Griffith. We are to attend the service.’ The door closed and Cécile returned her attention to Odette. ‘Now, you were saying?’

  Odette’s fingers plucked the coverlet. ‘As Mistress of the Robes I have many responsibilities to ensure the court women look their best. So, there was this one courtier who was very difficult and in order to appease her, I loaned her a jewel … without the other woman’s knowledge.’ She looked suitably repentant. ‘Now I must return it but the lady has sentries posted on her chambers in her absence and I cannot get past the guards.’ She looked up and grimaced. ‘I no longer have the ability to charm as I once did but someone as beautiful as you can distract them long enough for me to slip by unnoticed. You need only amuse them till I am within. There is a balcony which leads into the garden and I can escape that way. ’Tis kept locked on the inside.’

  Cécile chuckled. ‘So you have not relinquished your charity of borrowing from one to make another beautiful. I seem to remember you did the same for me with a certain red gown.’ The two women smiled in conspiracy. ‘Of course I will help you.’

  Cécile stood in the gardens and looked up at the wooden balcony wrapped in honeysuckle, sighing for the fifth time. What could be taking Odette so long to return a piece of jewellery? She breathed deeply to still her nerves and gazed at the surroundings. Whoever this woman was Odette had borrowed from, she certainly had standing within the court. This was the North-West Tower and reputedly boasted the most beautiful aspects. The view was indeed glorious.

  ‘Enjoying the sunshine, Lady Holland? Or are you hoping to find the Prince within? I would have thought the lovely seating arrangements in the rose garden were more to your taste. Are you alone?’ The nasally voice made Cécile jump. ‘My apologies, did I scare you?’ Lord Humphrey de Bohan bowed from the waist but his surveillance never left her face.

  ‘No, not at all,’ said Cécile, dipping an obligatory curtsey.

  ‘Pity.’

  ‘Pardon?’ Cécile shifted uneasily.

  ‘I do not forget that you and I have a past which needs reckoning, Madame.’

  ‘We have no such thing!’ scoffed Cécile. Gillet’s warning sounded in her head. This man did not tolerate women or losing but, to her, the logic was simple. ‘If you wanted that horse so badly in Chilham then you should have bid more.’

  Humphrey’s lip curled and he moved closer. ‘They do say it is all in the timing. What I want to know is …’ Lord Bohun reached out and clasping Cécile around the chin, pushed her backwards until she hit the trunk of the elm. ‘Where is that hor
se now, hmm? Where have you been spending your time recently, Lady Holland? Your husband has been our guest at this court for some weeks now but where were you? Why were you not here sooner?’ He arched a brow. ‘Did you ride that beautiful Andalusian here?’

  Cécile refused to allow her fear to surface but, even so, she struggled to keep her voice even. ‘That horse is not your concern and where I have been is none of your business, Lord Humphrey. Unhand me now or my husband will hear of this!’

  ‘Really?’ he drawled. ‘I’d like to see that.’ Smugness glowed on Humphrey’s face but a voice from behind him made them both jump.

  ‘Milord, Lord Felton wishes to enjoy your immediate company in the great hall.’ Sir Humphrey’s chamber boy stood watching them, his bruised countenance a blank mask. His dark glance roved from his lord to the woman pinned at the tree.

  Humphrey instantly dropped his hand and stepped back. ‘We shall speak again soon, Lady Holland. Rest assured.’

  Lord de Bohan moved away just as Odette joined them. Her face was flushed with excitement. The lad’s scrutiny flicked from Cécile to Odette. He turned to look at the tower, the direction from which the Mistress of the Robes had just appeared, and he scowled. Then he stared hard at Cécile until Lord Humphrey’s voice propelled his feet into action.

  ‘Hurry up, boy!’