The Gilded Crown (50 page)

Minette and Cécile stripped the bloodied linens and laid fresh sheets upon the bed. Odette's nose had finally stopped bleeding. Then they washed the girl and clothed her in a clean chemise. Odette was lying quiet, propped up on pillows, sedated by the physician's elixir. Her eyes were closed and a sucking leech sat hungrily beneath each.

The physician packed his instruments away and addressed Gillet. ‘A broken nose, possibly a cheekbone fracture and there'll be some heavy bruising. And she is overwrought.' He leaned over and wiggled one of the leeches. ‘I advise complete bedrest for a week. I will send to the apothecary for bloodwort to staunch the internal bleeding. The yarrow will also soothe the pain. She has suffered blows to her mid-section and this has caused the loss of her baby.'

‘Baby?' echoed Cécile, looking up from the bed where she sat holding Odette's hand.

The physician directed his gaze to her. ‘Yes, Milady. However, in her current mental condition, your woman does not seem to realise she has aborted a child. It was very early stages.'

Cécile squinted malevolently at her husband. ‘So now we add murder to the list.'

Gillet spun around angrily. ‘God's nails, Cécile! Stop glaring at me as though
I
am the perpetrator! The girl is better off without any ties to Bonneuil. Put your trust in God and let us content ourselves with the knowledge that the Almighty knew what He was doing.'

The physician nodded and poked the fat leeches. Deeming them ready, he plucked them free. ‘Would you have me make an official account, Milord? She is employed by the court.'

‘No,' snarled Gillet. ‘I will make my report to Lord Felton in due course.' He looked repentant and managed to grimace at the physician. ‘Thank you for your time and discretion in this matter, sir. I trust if your statements from this visit are required at a later date, you will concur?' Coins changed hands.

‘Of course, Lord d'Albret. I am completely at your service.' He bowed, picked up his bag and Cécile let him out.

There was a tangible silence in the chamber when the physician left, broken only by a nasally whistle at regular intervals. Odette had at last fallen into slumber. Griffith had excused himself earlier and Minette pleaded leave for the laundry house with the bundle of crimson linen.

‘Arrange for a second cot to be brought into this chamber,' ordered Gillet.

‘Yes, Milord.' Minette almost fell to her knees with her curtsey before she quickly fled.

Gillet was taken aback. ‘What was that about?'

Cécile smiled and seeking firm, solid reassurance for herself, moved to her husband's side and slipped her hands around his waist. ‘I think Minette suffers from a case of guilt. Something your lordship will have to rectify as soon as possible.'

‘Guilt? Why should she feel guilt?'

‘I think Odette may have disturbed a lover's tryst in my chamber, if not in my bed, but just how much was plundered I cannot tell without further inquisition.'

Slow to pick up the gauntlet, Gillet's scowl deepened, then like a parting of clouds after a rain storm, the sun shone through. His brow crinkled as his mouth rounded to the shape of a letter ‘o.' ‘Griffith?' He exhaled, grinning like a proud father.

Watching his anger melt Cécile tilted her head back and coaxed her husband's lips to hers. ‘You need to see them married and without delay, Milord, lest your squire ruin my maid.' She kissed him gently, mindful of the bruise he would soon sport, courtesy of Arnaud.

‘I'm afraid your second maid has acquired your bed,' whispered Gillet as he withdrew and ran a finger down her cheek. ‘If you find your cot too lumpy, you could always come to my chamber.' He softly kissed the corners of her mouth.

‘Much too risky,' said Cécile, shaking her head. She leaned back, her brow wrinkling. ‘And what do you mean “my second maid”?'

Gillet smirked and pulled her against his breast, tipping her chin upwards. ‘I am aware of my wife's passion for tending wounded creatures. Odette will not marry anytime soon. If you so desire, she may join our entourage. Good night, my dear. Should you need me, you know where to find me.' He pressed his lips to hers and, despite his bruised mouth, kissed her proper.

Around the corner from the Bishop's palace Bonneuil stepped from the back door of the fishmongers, his nose quivering at the barrels of rotten scales leaning against the wall in the noon-day sun. It was done. He'd left an order of two pike for John Moleyns and he would return in an hour for the address where he could meet his employer. Bonneuil fingered the scroll inside his doublet. Pity he couldn't read, he felt sure he'd be able to squeeze more from the deal. Images from the previous day of Odette spewing filth at him invaded his thoughts and soured his gut. He looked around for a tavern or wayside inn. Stupid bitch! Had she really thought he'd believe the bastard she carried was his? The whore spread her legs faster than butter melting on a hearth. But to come at him with her nails bared. Putain! His lesson had been harsh – he'd not have her nursing false hope or trying to follow him. He blamed her for his bad night's sleep but at least her behaviour had eased his conscience over leaving. With a fresh spring in his step, he whistled his way to the nearest holstery where he could toss back a tankard and enjoy entertainment between the sheets for two fingers-width of a cheap candle.

Gillet heard the Sext hour bell calling the monks in from the fields at the nearby monastery for noon prayers. He made his way to the stables in search of Griffith but was waylaid by a distressed Lady Katherine.

‘Sir Ghillebert! Why,' she panted, ‘I was trying to find you. Thank the Lord I did.'

‘Is something wrong, Lady Beauchamp?' Gillet offered his arm to Humphrey de Bohan's aunt and escorted her to the nearest garden bench.

‘If there is then the responsibility lies directly at my door and I would not blame you for pelting it with rotten eggs. Oh,' she placed her hand against her breast as she fought to catch her breath. ‘But then I've made a fine mess of things!'

‘Calm yourself, Lady Beauchamp. Pray tell, what is this turmoil? Madame, would you have me fetch Sir Thomas?'

‘Lord, no!' She rolled her eyes skywards. ‘I can imagine his sermon.' Lady Katherine took Gillet's hand into her keeping as he sat beside her. ‘I may have voiced an opinion to my nephew and that fool-headed idiot has taken a leave of absence to hot-foot it back to London with your brother.' She patted his hand. ‘I'm so sorry, Ghillebert, I did not think he would take me at my word but I may have caused you some embarrassment.'

‘Good lady, what could you have possibly said to cause such anxiety? I know of no truth which can harm me.'

‘Oh, my dear boy, you are too kind but I told Humphrey I believed you and the Lady Holland were married and now he's accompanying Lord Arnaud so he can wag his tongue to the Prince. It's pure scandal! I had no proof.'

‘Calm yourself, Lady Katherine.' Gillet returned the favour and patted her hand. ‘My brother also discovered I am wed and I daresay it was only a matter of time before the Prince learned. Who tells him is of no consequence to me.'

She stared up at Gillet and her mouth fell open. ‘Then I was …'

‘Quite correct,' said Gillet. ‘Though your discretion would still be appreciated.'

‘I knew it! Well, I daresay you have your own reasons for concealment but I am sorry for being the one to destroy your secret.'

‘Apology accepted, Lady Katherine. What gave us away?'

Katherine Beauchamp's face lit up. ‘Why, your eyes, dear boy. They are the window to the soul and they never lie. And I have been with the court long enough to know truth when I see it.' She stood up and began to move away but paused for thought, her finger at her cheek. ‘Sir Ghillebert, if I were to be so bold as to ask you to prove your forgiveness of me,' she turned to face him, ‘would you?'

Gillet rose and bowed. ‘What is your desire, Lady Katherine?'

‘Desire, yes, exactly. Humphrey left his chamber-boy behind and I cannot possibly take him into my service. Thomas would have a fit. He will suffer no truck with Humphrey. I daresay he has no one else here to take him on and I thought mayhap you …'

Gillet bowed a second time. ‘Consider it done, Milady, in return for your continued prudence.'

‘Bless you, Sir Ghillebert. There is just one more thing. I think Humphrey was less than kind to the boy, especially before his departure, if you get my drift, sir.' Lady Katherine blushed. ‘I will be the first to admit that my nephew is far from perfect and … well, that is to say a man's needs must be met and some men will meet them in any available way.' Her expression softened. ‘He may have damaged the boy,' she tapped her temple, ‘up here.'

Gillet nodded. A sudden image of his own childhood flashed before him; a young boy, stretched naked, across a log as a group of youths watched on. He turned abruptly from Lady Katherine. Had she not just said the eyes were the window to the soul?

‘Have the lad call at Lady Holland's chambers,' he threw over his shoulder brusquely, resuming his journey to the stable.

‘Lady d'Armagnac?' In Cécile's chamber, Odette sat up in bed and gingerly felt her face. To the onlooker she was still puffy from weeping and all around her nose was swollen, the discolouring deepening every hour.

‘Odette!' Cécile turned from Gillet and went to sit on the bed. ‘How do you feel?'

Odette pulled a face. ‘Like the fool I am. I'm sorry to have put myself upon you.'

‘Nonsense!' chided Cécile. ‘We are pleased you came to us.'

Odette peeked over to Gillet and her mouth fell open. ‘The courier!'

Cécile smiled warmly. ‘Yes, the courier but that is a story for another time. For now you must keep his identity our secret. In this court he is known as Sir Ghillebert d'Albret.'

The awe in Odette's voice could not be mistaken. ‘
You
are Sir Ghillebert? Well,
that
makes some sense. You should hear the maids in the kitchen …' Seeing Cécile's scowl, Odette quietened. ‘Forgive me, Lady. What time of day would it be?'