The Gilded Crown (41 page)

Sir Thomas's harrumphing left no doubt that he held little notion Cécile would be on her own for long.

‘But who, my dear? Our friends are all too old.'

A voice at Cécile's ear made her jump. ‘May I offer myself as escort, Lady Katherine?' Gillet bowed regally. ‘As it happens, I am known to the demoiselle – in fact, she was placed in my care, for a time, by Lord Holland himself.'

‘Yes! Of course! How simply perfect,' shrilled Katherine. ‘I recall now Humphrey mentioned your name, Lord d'Albret. How extremely fortunate you are here with us tonight.'

Cécile swept into another curtsey, her tone venomous. ‘Lord d'Albret, you are too kind but I would not wish to inconvenience you. Were you not otherwise engaged? It appeared so upon my entry.'

Gillet tilted his head. ‘Then you read far too much into nothing, mademoiselle. I have no dalliance at this court, save for what you grant me.' He bowed again.

A group of men wandered over to Sir Thomas and Gillet was obliged to step back.

‘Gentlemen,' announced Thomas, ‘Lady Holland, may I introduce to you some companions of mine, Sir Baldwin Bereford, Sir Bartholomew Berghersh, and Sir Richard Cobham. Sadly both Sir Baldwin and Sir Richard are to take their leave of us early next week, recalled to parliament in London, though I suspect Baldwin will not stop there.'

The men bowed respectfully, the latter rather stiffly, his age exceeding most.

‘I daresay not,' said Sir Baldwin. ‘Rumour has it I am to be Ireland bound.' He beamed at Cécile.

‘Then I wish you both a fortuitous and safe journey, gentlemen.' She returned the knight's smile but hers faded as she watched their horrified expressions.

‘Good Lord! Forgive me, mademoiselle, but what accent is that? I cannot believe they teach it in a convent.'

Cécile glanced at Gillet. He raised one brow but his lips remained firmly closed. Reading his gesture of defiance, Cécile lifted her chin, her mind racing. In sultry voice, she countered. ‘It came not from the convent, monsieur, but rather a studious tutor, master in the art of the French tongue. My father felt it would be appropriate to have an English daughter who was fluent in the Parisian language.' She tilted her head coquettishly. ‘I also speak Languedoc. It was for when our King Edward sat upon the French throne. I was to be a peace offering, a consolation for wounded pride.' The outcry that followed almost made Cécile giggle.

‘Good Heavens! One of our best offered to the French in marriage? Deplorable!'

‘Unspeakable! Is this what happens to our fair flowers?'

‘Bloody outrageous! We do all the fighting and for what? To hand over our women?'

‘Ah, Sir William,' interrupted Thomas Beauchamp. ‘Lady Holland, allow me to introduce Sir William Felton of Northumberland. He is now seneschal of Poitou and the Limousin. He works in acquisitions of castles as surety for the continuation of payment of France's ransom. He is a skilled arbiter, serving in two hearings both last year in Breton, and the year before in Gourney-en-Bray. His brother, Lord Thomas Felton, is the steward to the Prince's household and on loan to us for the setting up of this court. Albret, see to it that Felton is made aware of Lady Holland and have him send for her belongings.'

Gillet inclined his head. ‘As you wish, Sir Thomas.'

Lady Katherine glanced at the young man's sour face and tugged on her husband's arm. ‘Thomas, enough monopolising Lady Holland. Let the young ones go have some fun.'

Thomas clapped his hand upon Gillet's shoulder. ‘My wife can prattle volumes in rusty iron but every now and again her words are pure gold. Go, lad. Introduce Lady Holland around and enjoy the rest of your evening.'

Withdrawing from the group, Gillet clamped his hand in a firm grip at his wife's elbow and whispered tightly, ‘
For the love of Christ, what in God's name propelled you into this lion's den
?'

Cécile squirmed in his grasp. ‘Gillet, you are hurting me!'

Finding a vacant alcove, he guided her within, able to speak without being heard but still in plain sight. ‘My name here is
Ghillebert
, and since we're on names, shouldn't you be ‘
Cecily
Holland?'

Cécile sniffed and her nose pointed skyward. ‘Grant me some decorum. I'll never be a “Cecily!”'

‘For the love of God, make me understand quickly, Cécile, for I want nothing more than to shake some sense into your bones right now! Do you have any idea what a nest of vipers this court is?'

Recovering her dignity, Cécile straightened her sleeve from where her husband's clenched grip had fallen. ‘I thought I handled myself quite well just a moment ago, no thanks to you.'

Gillet's eyes blazed. ‘Really? Then perhaps I should just let you loose so you can charm your way around the hall with your country southern accent. Firstly, we must find Lord Felton so that you can be properly ensconced within these walls. There is no escape for you now. Then, at first opportunity, he will send a dispatch to London to inform the Prince of the latest addition to his court. Meanwhile, try to avoid the claws of Lady Katherine's pseudo-nephew, Humphrey de Bohan, related only by her brother's first wife but apparently the two are closely bound. I have it on good authority Bohun is still slighted at losing one Andalusian stallion in an auction in Chilham. He is an immature, trifling man who cannot concede to a woman! Be assured, lady, he will seek you out. And, if you can go unnoticed by Sir Stephen Cossington and, God forbid, the King's messenger, Sir Roger Cotesford, you will need a miracle to avoid Sir John de Grailly, cousin to Gaston de Foix! I can only pray Grailly does not have his wife here at court. I presume you know my cousin and Armand's sister, Rose? I have no idea why you should present yourself in the guise of Holland but one word from her, fair or foul, and your Armagnac roots will be exposed.'

Cécile's hand covered her mouth in horror at Gillet's words and though she knew he would not be happy at her sudden appearance, she had not counted on being greeted with lashings of his temper the moment she stepped over the threshold. With all she had endured the last two months, tears began to well.

‘Oh, Christ!' hissed Gillet. He took her arm to lead her outside but was impeded by an eager suitor.

‘It would seem you have made the young lady cry, Lord d'Albret.' The solicitous man bowed stiffly.

Cécile knew she would have to prove she could hold her own at this court and pulling herself together, she addressed him coldly. ‘Lord d'Albret was passing on a last message from my father, the late Lord Holland. You have interrupted a sad and very private moment, monsieur.'

The knight blushed to his hairline and bowed again. ‘Then I apologise for my deplorable timing, mademoiselle. I wished merely to assure myself you were in no distress.'

‘Lady Holland,' said Gillet. ‘I introduce Lord John Kentwode, esquire to the Prince of Wales, and assistant to Sir Thomas Beauchamp and, on occasion, Lord Salisbury. He is responsible for ensuring the continued payment of ransom of Jean le Bon's son, Philippe.' Gillet took two goblets from a tray offered by a servant and handed one to Cécile. ‘How goes it with that, John? I trust you have made the King's sons comfortable in London?'

‘Lord, I should say so, Sir Ghillebert,' he replied. The man seemed to appreciate the chance to recover his embarrassment. ‘Damn Frenchies are given better treatment than our own men.' He leaned forward, surreptitiously glancing in all directions to see they would not be overheard. ‘But I can tell you that Louis d'Anjou is an impatient hothead and captivity does not sit well upon his shoulders. He paces the palace like a caged lion and roars just as loud. I do not think he cares so greatly for London.' Kentwode drained his cup to the lees. ‘I only hope the rest of his ransom is paid soon. It is hard to curb his patience.' His eye caught a movement in the hall. ‘Ah, excuse me, I am being summonsed. Lady Holland, it was my pleasure.' He bowed again and left.

‘He seemed nice,' murmured Cécile, determined not to prejudice everyone she met.

‘Nice, eh?' growled Gillet. ‘You do not recognise the name?' They continued on their way to the door.

‘No, should I?'

‘Not particularly, though I have mentioned it before. On instructions from the Earl of Salisbury, John Kentwode once hired a man called Pierre de Silver, who in turn engaged two thugs to kidnap a young lady from the marketplace in Paris. I rescued the demoiselle in question and took her to an inn but not before she was gravely injured.'

Cécile's mouth opened in disbelief and her hand subconsciously rubbed her gown where beneath the velvet, a scar was carved into her skin. ‘He is one of those responsible?' They passed through the arched portal into the garden.

‘Oui, he organised it. Now do you see that you have stumbled into a hive of wasps?'

Humphrey de Bohan was still within his assigned chamber at Blanquefort castle. The new Earl of Hereford liked to make a late entrance. ‘Hand me my chaperon, boy.'

‘Yeth, Lord.' Humphrey frowned at the young lad's lisp as the boy lifted the rondelet from the chest and brushed the peacock-blue velvet reverently.

Humphrey placed the roll on his brow and flicked the gorget, a dagged shoulder cape, onto one side revealing the gold lining. ‘Hand me that brooch.'

‘Yeth, Lord.' The boy complied and picked up a sparkling filigree ornament, its belly a large deep-purple amethyst.

The earl took it and pinned it to the front of the roll. ‘How long have you spoken thus?' asked Humphrey, still scowling.

‘All my life, Lord.'

‘Yes, well, it's annoying. Don't do it in my presence. I have no wish to hear such an impediment in my chamber. Understood?'

Fearing his next word, the lad nodded.

‘I said, “understood”?' repeated the young earl. ‘I need to know you have understood me, boy.'

The youth winced and then answered. ‘Yeth, Lord.'

Humphrey glared down at the stripling's impertinence as his hand curled into a fist.

Two minutes later, the Earl of Hereford stepped from his chamber, having carefully arranged the liripipe of his chaperon over his shoulder. It had been a hard decision whether to wear it thus or tuck it into his belt. He began his descent upon the stairs, flicking the entwined couple in the darkened corner a look of distaste.

Within the earl's chamber, the child crawled from his curled position to where his master had left his vanity shield. He stared at the distorted reflection, the bruise around his swelling eye already turning black.

‘Not here!' whispered the woman in the corner as she watched the Earl of Hereford pass to make his way down the stairs. She buried her head into the neck of her companion and snickered. Beneath her gown, the man's hand crept up into the maid's nether regions until she gasped, then groaned audibly. He withdrew his wet fingers.

‘Yes, here and now. I am fit to burst!' He swung her around and pressed her into the wall, kicking her legs apart. Lifting her skirts to her waist, he pulled at his braies and thrust himself into her. A heated rush filled his groin and it was over in moments.