The Lily and the Lion

by Catherine A. Wilson

  ‘I would rather put distance between us and Moleyns than stop now.’

  He patted my hand but remained where he was, his presence a surprising comfort.

  Sometime during the mid-afternoon I fell back asleep, the rocking motion of the cart and the cooling breeze conspiring to provide me with the tools I needed to rest. However, I realised later that it was not as I had imagined, for when I tried to wake I was lost in a nightmare of heat and flames, of terror and loss. I dreamed of a strange place, somewhere foreign to me. I could not find my way out. I was in the centre of a strange building that was consumed by fire and in order to escape I had to jump a gaping chasm, but knew it would be difficult with the bundle I held in my arms. As I looked at it, it began to move and I could hear the soft cry of a baby somewhere close by. Simon was calling to me, pleading with me. Then the dream changed and I heard his voice from a great distance, telling me to wake and look at him but the more I tried, the further I fell back, into the fire, clutching my parcel tighter and tighter, shielding it from flames.

  I do not know how many days passed this way. I have since learned that upon arrival at Broughton I would not wake. I do not believe I would have recovered, but for Simon who stated that he had treated this type of malady previously. He insisted that I be taken and bathed in the cool waters of the lake. Blessedly I have no memory of what would have been a terrifying experience. It would appear that I am once again indebted to my guardian.

  It was a few days before my sight returned. So this morning, my dearest, I have been able to reread your letter and begin mine to you, with one sad note, I have been informed that Gillet has been summoned to this place to help decide the fate of Anaïs.

  Simon tells me that she is held in one of the rooms off the kitchen, but can no longer be drugged, for it causing her acute sickness and he is fearful of the evils this may visit upon Gillet’s unborn child. I am so sorry, for I understand your feelings for Gillet and, though I give my blessing to you both, I hope you understand that the situation here must be dealt with first.

  It was late afternoon when I finally sought out the kitchen, the scullery maid offering hot pottage and a seat by the fire where I could warm my toes. The sound of Gillet’s voice took me by complete surprise as he knocked and then entered the room below the staircase. Slipping on my shoes, I delivered my empty bowl to the scullery, located right next to the door that Gillet had left ajar.

  I had missed the beginning of the conversation, which could not have been too pleasant, as he and Anaïs were already arguing.

  ‘You had a full purse, more than enough to equip yourself!’ My obscured view only just revealed his legs as he paced.

  ‘But all my new things have been ruined! I have little or nothing to wear.’ I could clearly imagine Anaïs’ face with the whining charade that she had so often practised on me.

  ‘Your chest seems quite full. I’ll wager it holds more than Catherine’s or Cécile’s.’

  ‘What have they to do with me? I am your betrothed and, as such, am entitled to be cared for and clothed in a fitting and proper manner.’

  ‘I only meant that you could learn much from their patience, acceptance and thrift.’

  ‘Why do you think so highly of such women?’ she asked, her voice rising in pace with her temper.

  ‘Why? You ask me why?’ he said in a way that I thought clearly indicated he was avoiding the answer.

  ‘Yes. Why? When one is nothing more than a title seeker and the other a royal whore!’ I quickly drew back lest I be seen as he marched over to her.

  ‘If you ever speak of Céc—’

  But she was upon him and the slap to his face was sharp and smart. His hand shot up and grabbed her arm at the wrist, while his other wiped the blood from where her ring had split his lip.

  ‘Nice stone. Did you purchase it specifically to brand me?’

  ‘You belong to me,’ she hissed venomously, ‘and methinks you best remember that, or your little blonde tidbit might find herself a permanent guest of the Prince. I know how important she is to him, Gillet, how much he wants her! But how important is she to you?’

  Gillet remained silent.

  ‘Ha,’ she spat, ‘she will die the death of a witch, struggling at the stake as the flames lick at her skirts, begging for pity as the skin peels from her bones.’

  ‘Enough!’ he yelled, releasing her arm, but she did not lower it, her eye having caught sight of something about his neck.

  ‘Your quaint little medal, I assume?’ Reaching into his doublet she pulled out the chain.

  He grabbed her hand and the links strained between them. ‘Let it go.’

  ‘Do you honestly think I will stand for you wearing this after we are married?’

  ‘Touch it again …’

  ‘And what? What will you do, Gillet?’

  ‘I will cut off your fingers,’ he snarled.

  ‘You do not frighten me. On the contrary, it is you who should be concerned. You will see things my way, otherwise the pain I shall inflict will last both this lifetime and the next!’

  Alerted by the noise of the returning maids, Gillet closed the door, effectively shutting me out. Taking the opportunity to flee, I retraced my steps and found the long passage that took me to the entrance hall. I stopped at the bottom of the great stairs and sat down, panting as though having run a great distance, my heart pounding. It would seem that Anaïs was not only dangerous but, worse, she was unpredictable.

  It was here that Gillet found me. He offered his hand and I allowed him to assist me to my feet.

  ‘Catherine! Here, let me look at you.’

  I watched his mood grow dark as he observed the damage so recently dealt upon my face. Embarrassed by his scrutiny, I shifted my gaze to the floor.

  ‘I know that this will heal and the beautiful face, with which I am so familiar, will return. I promise you this, I shall deal with Anaïs, but first,’ he smiled, retrieving a large packet from within his doublet, ‘I am sure you would rather be reading this before you speak with me. Perhaps you might like to join Simon and me in the library once you have finished.’

  I retreated to the small arbour adjacent to the stables and sat beneath a weeping pear tree. Stretching out my legs, I lifted my skirt slightly, allowing my ankles to drink in the warmth of the sun.

  Oh, my dearest, how my heart bleeds for your babe, conceived from an act of such wickedness. You cannot believe that it will reflect the evil ways of its father when your own soul remains true and strong. After all, this child is more you than him, more angel than devil, do you not see? And to not have told Gillet, what were you thinking? Goodness gracious, my sister, is it not obvious to you that this man loves you with all his heart?

  What a time you have had. I must be honest, your escapades are both thrilling and amusing and, though I worry for you, how you make me laugh. Each time I read of your latest adventures I cry tears of both sadness and joy and thank the Lord every day for having sent me the love of such a free-spirited sister.

  When I finally returned to the house I was greeted by the sound of raised voices. Simon and Gillet were arguing, their heated discussion audible from the main entrance hall. Though I knocked, I doubted they heard me as I tentatively entered the room.

  Gillet’s face was flushed. He turned away from me and I was instantly struck with a sense of foreboding.

  ‘I have interrupted,’ I apologised as my cheeks coloured.

  ‘No, we were discussing the situation concerning your maid,’ clarified Simon as he offered me one of the vacant high-backed chairs. ‘Apparently she has wasted little time effecting her plan.’

  ‘I don’t understand. What plan?’

  ‘Your cunning maid intends to further her position by blackmailing us.’

  ‘And she has the means to do this?’ I gasped.

  ‘She claims to have an ally here at Broughton. I have been unable to ascertain her contact but I am sure her threat is genuine. She insists she has the wherewithal to di
spatch a message to the Prince. If that is so, there is nothing that either Gillet or I could do to protect you or Cécile. We must comply with her wishes.’ The two men exchanged ill-tempered looks, their words withheld by my presence, I was sure.

  ‘Simon, you are scaring me!’

  ‘As you should be. Our position here is tenuous.’

  ‘What are we to do?’

  ‘We give her what she wants.’

  ‘And that is?’ I prompted as Gillet continued to stare angrily out of the window.

  ‘Immediate marriage to her betrothed!’ answered Simon. ‘The priest is currently being summoned to the chapel.’

  ‘No!’ I cried. ‘Surely you do not mean it? Gillet, you cannot marry Anaïs! You simply cannot, not now that you love Cécile.’

  ‘Marriage has little to do with love, Catherine,’ he replied stiffly. ‘If I do not oblige Anaïs in this, she will carry out her threat.’

  ‘No!’ I jumped to my feet. ‘What of Céci? How can you do this to her, cause such hurt and pain? She is in love with you!’

  ‘Catherine,’ said Simon calmly, ‘he will be doing this for your sister, and for you and me.’

  ‘But you of all people should understand. You do not choose to love. Love chooses you!’ Reaching for Simon’s hand I gently grasped his fingers. ‘I understand that you regret your marriage and look upon it as a mistake. Would you have Gillet do the same?’

  ‘You know very little of my circumstance,’ he retorted, pulling away from me.

  ‘I know that you were right to marry the woman you loved. The pain of separation can be unbearable. Cécile would rather face adversity with Gillet than live a miserable life alone. She would not survive.’

  ‘I can assure you, your sister will endure. There are many young knights who would be more than happy to offer their suit.’ Simon’s rebuff was cold and dismissive.

  I was torn, dearest sister. I did not want to reveal your secret, but I had to try and change their minds.

  ‘No! Not now! She is … she is …’ Tears had begun to flow unchecked down my cheeks. ‘She is with child. She needs you, Gillet, now more than ever!’

  ‘What?’ Gillet spun around as Simon’s head shot up.

  ‘Are you sure?’ questioned Simon.

  ‘Yes. All this time she has kept her secret, not wanting to believe and then too frightened to tell.’

  ‘Céci carries Edward’s child?’ uttered Gillet, his face pale. ‘Mon Dieu, give me strength!’ He collapsed onto the nearby stool and his head sunk into his hands.

  ‘You did not know after all this time?’ inquired Simon as he offered his friend a large mug of wine. ‘Did she not show signs? Sickness in the morning? The urge to constantly eat?’

  ‘How would I know?’ snarled Gillet, without looking at him. ‘I have not your knowledge of these things! Most of the time she ate like a sparrow!’

  ‘To keep measure of her weight!’ I agreed, glaring at Simon. ‘Did she not insist upon privacy when bathing? She did her all to hide it. You see, Gillet,’ I added gently, ‘you cannot marry Anaïs. If you turn your back on Cécile now you will destroy her. For all her courage, she is very frightened.’

  ‘He has no choice,’ harrumphed Simon. ‘If he does not agree to this union, then we are all destroyed! You may as well sign our death warrants now. Either Gillet marries Anaïs today or your sister will be given to the prince and we shall be delivered to the executioner.’

  ‘Surely there is another way.’

  ‘No, Anaïs has made her position very clear.’

  ‘I am sorry, Catherine,’ said Gillet, returning his cup to Simon, ‘but I must marry Anaïs.’ They stared at one another for a moment then he bowed graciously to me. He closed his eyes and whispered, ‘Forgive me,’ before marching from the room.

  I wanted to follow him, to fall at his feet and beg him. I was tormented by guilt and by sorrow, for even after revealing your secret I had been unable to change his mind.

  ‘Simon, Simon, please, surely you of all people could not condone this. You must help me convince Gillet not to go ahead with this.’

  ‘This may be the only effective way to silence Anaïs. She will no longer threaten any of us for fear of implicating her own husband.’

  ‘But my sister’s very happiness is at stake!’ My tears returned, coursing their way freely down my cheeks.

  ‘Gillet’s sole responsibility was to protect your sister, not make her happy,’ he replied cruelly.

  ‘Please, Simon.’

  ‘No.’

  Gillet was waiting on the steps of the family chapel, his face pale and drawn, his shoulders slumped. As we approached, neither man acknowledged the other, nor the sedate Father Donovan who had emerged to stand in front of them. It was not long before I heard the scolding of Anaïs as she made her way towards the church, escorted by a bevy of giggling kitchens maids. She was immaculately dressed in a new gown which looked a little too big for her, even with her extended girth. Within her hands was a rosary, the sight of which caused me to choke, and atop her head an intricately woven wreath of barley.

  Simon turned and watched her but Gillet’s face remained forward, his eyes downcast.

  I watched as the priest’s mouth opened and closed, yet his words were drowned by the sound of my own heart tearing into shreds of despair.

  ‘We are gathered in the sight of God …’

  My eyes misted as I imagined your pain upon learning of this terrible event. The haunting cry of a distant curlew was prophetic, as I knew I would never be able to enjoy such beauty again. Not without recalling Anaïs’ satisfied sneer. I wanted to it to be a dream, an imagination but I was all too quickly roused from my stupor.

  ‘… God’s law or the laws of the realm, let him now speak or else hereafter hold his peace.’

  ‘No one objects!’ proclaimed Anaïs.

  Our eyes met and I held her stare.

  ‘Don’t even think it!’ she threatened as her gaze searched the empty garden behind her. ‘Get on with it, Father.’

  Disconcerted, he stammered and glanced back at his prayer book. Simon coughed politely as Gillet persistently stared at his boots.

  ‘It’s all part of the ceremony,’ mumbled Father Donovan. ‘When you look back on this day, do you not wish to do so with a happy heart and mind?’

  ‘I rather hoped for far more entertaining memories,’ scoffed Anaïs.

  She had Gillet’s attention now. His look was one of complete contempt. ‘Let’s just get this over with.’

  ‘I require and charge you both,’ declared the priest, now reading directly from his book, ‘as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment why you may not be lawfully joined together in matrimony, that you confess it.’ Raising his hands to the sky, he continued. ‘For be well assured that so many as be coupled together otherwise that God’s word doth allow, are not joined together by God, neither is their matrimony lawful.’

  Beads of sweat were manifesting on Gillet’s brow as he stared into the distance.

  ‘Gillet,’ I begged and grabbed his arm. ‘Please stop.’

  Anaïs pulled my hand away. ‘I imagine Cécile will be begging in much the same way,’ she mused, ‘as the Prince takes her, again and again and again.’ Her eyes flicked to Simon. ‘Not that Lord Poxford will be around to see it. He’ll be dangling from the end of a rope, his eyes bulging as he shites himself!’ Her eyes snapped to mine. ‘Do you really wish to interrupt again, Sister Mary Catherine?’

  ‘Catherine, this is not helping.’ Grasping my wrist, Simon gently encouraged me to return to his side. I could not contain the sound of a sob which brought a wide smile to my maid’s face.

  Clearing his throat, Father Donovan coaxed the proceedings along.

  ‘My son, you must repeat after me, I, Gillet de Bellegarde …’

  ‘Wait!’ Gillet stepped closer to Anaïs and swiftly removed the headpiece from atop h
er hair. ‘Barley has always held a particular memory for me. I want nothing to confuse that day with this.’ He handed it to me.

  ‘How touching,’ spat Anaïs . ‘Now, get on with it!’

  The priest uttered the vows, which Gillet dutifully began to repeat.

  ‘Please God, no,’ I begged.

  ‘I, Gillet de Bellegarde, will take you, Anaïs … Anaïs …’ stumbled your beloved, and for a brief moment my hopes rose.

  ‘It’s d’Arques, Anaïs d’Arques.’ She made no attempt to hide her growing temper.

  ‘Anaïs d’Arques,’ Gillet closed his eyes, ‘to my wedded wife …’

  Fighting the heat building within, I struggled on, yet darkness beckoned and I felt myself sway, sure that the ground was rushing up to greet me. My mind was spinning, thinking, trying to conjure something to stop Gillet. Simon squeezed my fingers and I looked up to see Anaïs grab hold of Gillet’s hand.

  ‘I, Anaïs d’Arques, will take you, Gillet de Bellegarde, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward …’

  The priest watched her, his disgust unmistakable.

  ‘… to be bonny and buxom in bed and at board.’ She giggled at Gillet. ‘To love and to cherish, ’til death us depart, according to God’s holy ordinance, and thereunto I plight thee my troth,’ she finished, with a triumphant grin.

  The priest continued the blessing then released their hands and asked for the ring. Gillet’s detached attitude momentarily cleared and he looked at Simon.

  ‘You don’t have a ring?’ exclaimed Anaïs.

  Simon reached into his tunic and pulled out a long, golden chain. Unfastening it, he held the coil of links skyward and I watched as an intricate band slid down and dropped into his palm, which he then extended to Gillet. It was several seconds before Gillet responded, shaking his head as though unwilling to accept it.

  ‘Take it,’ commanded Simon, forcing the ring into Gillet’s hand. Father Donovan smiled briefly and, continuing with the prayer, made several sweeping movements over the delicate piece of gold, blessing the union and commanding their souls to God. When he was finished I waited for the final act, but Gillet was suddenly fixed, unable to move, the ring poised in his fingers.