The Gilded Crown (46 page)

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Authors: Catherine A. Wilson

Tags: #Historical Fiction

BOOK: The Gilded Crown
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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 horse 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!'

Gillet frowned but his hand closed softly around Cécile's in order to stop her from biting her nails. They were sitting in the rose garden, the sun's pink rays saturating the last of the afternoon sky. ‘It was bound to come out eventually. Bohun blindsided you with talk of the horse.'

‘It wasn't until I thought about our conversation that I realised he referred to you as my husband.' She looked up in despair.

‘There is little damage he can do with that knowledge here except to create a sensation but it will eventually reach the Prince's ears. Our days of Edward's ignorance are numbered.'

‘Hmm, that was something else Lord Bohan said. He implied that the tower housed the Prince's apartments.'

‘Then who is this woman from whom Odette borrowed the jewellery?'

Cécile shook her head.

Gillet's scowl deepened. ‘Did you ever see this piece?'

‘Non.'

‘Do you think she may have been lying?'

‘Odette?' Cécile snorted. ‘No. But she doesn't really care for this court. She wants to leave it as soon as possible and marry her Eustace.' She rolled her eyes. ‘She is consumed by him.'

‘
Eustace
?' Gillet blanched and it was Cécile's turn to frown at her husband's lack of sensitivity. ‘Yes. Is it so impossible that someone may love the woman beneath the scars?'

Gillet was shaking his head. ‘No, no, you misunderstand. “Eustace” is Bonneuil's first name. I told you he was here.' Cécile practically heard the shift of gears in Gillet's brain. ‘Odette is the Mistress of the Robes, therefore she will have access to most, if not all, the suites. If Bonneuil has cozened her affections it will be for no other reason than she can tread where he cannot.'

‘Odette and Bonneuil? Really Gillet! I'm aggrieved you put so little faith in Odette. Do not forget, if not for her, I would never have escaped Paris.'

‘It's not Odette I distrust but I'll swap kittens with tigers if Bonneuil is not working her.'

Cécile's face darkened. ‘She had me distract the sentry posted on the apartment.' The spinning coin in her head landed, illuminated side up.

Gillet looked at her sharply. ‘Are you thinking what I'm thinking?'

Cécile met his gaze. ‘Odette lied. She had me distract the guards on Edward's suite. Do you think she was looking for the scroll?'

‘For Bonneuil, without a doubt,' growled Gillet. ‘But for whom is he working? He could never contrive this escapade on his own so who else knows there exists evidence of a brokered deal for the Scottish crown?' Gillet breathed deeply. ‘Since we cannot find this Henri d'Argentan perhaps we would do better to discover whose hands hold the scroll. Tomorrow Arn takes his oath. I would have us gone from here the morning after the celebrations. Many will be nursing sore heads and have little care for our movements. We have until then to locate Bonneuil.' His grasp on her fingers became stronger and his voice filled with determination. ‘We need to be free of all this to find Jean Petit.'

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