The Order of the Lily (60 page)

‘But the babe will be hungry,' protested Cécile. ‘I could have fed him on the way to the church!'

‘This day belongs to Ghillebert,' insisted Comte d'Armagnac.

‘Do not fret, Cécile,' called Dame Rosetta as the wagon pulled out. ‘Jean Petit will not go hungry.' She held up the clay feeding bottle and a loud chorus of giggling burst from the women. ‘We have been teaching him to feed from the chevrette for days now!'

The Mass was a private ceremony held in between the usual services. The women filed into the pews on one side, the men on the other, as Gillet and Cécile took their places, kneeling at the altar. The parish priest, nervous in front of the Bishop of Dax, performed an eloquent service and obligingly stepped aside for his distinguished guest to deliver the bridal bene-diction.

Gillet edged forward as a pall of beautiful pearl Lucchese cloth was suspended over Cécile's head, the canopy held aloft by the four corners, as tradition required, by unmarried bearers, those being Lady Matilda, Minette, Armand and Griffith. Cécile gave her own thanks in prayer, for this ritual was permitted to a woman only once, and the church allowed those who were
corrupta
to receive it, the same as any maiden bride. Here, at last, in the sight of God, she was not to be punished for the loss of her innocence.

General confession, absolution and Communion followed, a highly favoured circumstance which confirmed the marriage vows were now a holy sacrament and thus indisputable. As Bishop, Beraud granted a common license and the priest duly noted this in his church's register.

They journeyed back to the manor house but the countryside blurred around Cécile as she fixatedly twirled her wedding band.

‘Look up, Céci,' announced Gillet, ‘if you can draw your attention from your wealth for long enough.'

‘I do not covet the gold!' she choked, incensed. ‘It is the meaning behind this glorious symbol.'

‘Hush. You promised to obey me, remember? Cast your eyes to the Mesdames' house and tell me if what you see pleases you.'

The unpretentious manor had been thoroughly cleaned in the recent renovation. The roof tiles twinkled under the brilliance of the sun, the shutters had been painted and re-hung and the surrounding ivy neatly clipped. Fresh shoots were sprouting in abundance, in newly ploughed garden plots and they promised a full, colourful display by mid-summer. The tended lawns were deepening to a lush green. To Cécile, it was an Eden on Earth.

‘Oh,' she breathed, her eyes round, ‘the Mesdames must have been left a small fortune to bring about such changes.'

‘Riches again?' chortled Gillet. ‘So it meets with your approval?'

‘How could it not?' she gasped. ‘It is superb!'

‘Good!' he replied, laughing. ‘I am pleased you like it. This house now belongs to you, Lady d'Albret. Never again shall you feel as though you have no hearth to call your own.' She turned to stare at her new husband as he pulled up his horse in the drive. ‘It was purchased with your dowry,' he smiled. ‘I shall explain it later. Meanwhile, we have guests to attend.'

Long tables had been set with creamy linen cloths and laced with ivy in what passed for the manor's hall. The men noisily hoisted Gillet onto their shoulders as Armand, after a sweeping bow, presented his arm in courtly fashion to Cécile.

‘Lady d'Albret, might I be permitted the pleasure of escorting you to your husband?'

Cécile curtsied in reply. ‘Lord d'Albret, the pleasure, I assure you, is mine.'

‘You
do
realise what this means, don't you?' grinned Armand. ‘It means you
really
are my cousin now.'

They reached the dais and Armand released her. Cécile curtseyed in abeyance to her father, Jean d'Armagnac. ‘Cécile,' uttered the Comte. He pulled his daughter into his embrace and heaved a sigh. ‘Do all fathers love their children so?'

She looked up into the heavy, creased face that she loved so well and her heart lurched. He had aged since their time in Paris. ‘No, papa. Not all father's love as you do. Some hardly acknowledge a daughter's existence.' She hugged him hard. ‘I will always thank God for the day He gave me to you.'

‘Can you ever forgive me for leaving you at the palace?'

‘You cannot blame yourself for what happened, Papa. Besides …' She turned in his grasp and smiled. ‘That is where I finally met Gillet.'

Comte d'Armagnac released his daughter and grasped the arm of her new husband. ‘Son,' he said. Cécile slid onto Gillet's lap as Armand perched on the board beside them, his feet resting on the bench below. The Comte's gaze ran over each of them in turn. ‘How you have all grown,' he sighed. ‘And who would have thought it would come to this?' A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. ‘Although, when this young rapscallion turned up on my doorstep, asking permission for your hand, I was not overly surprised.'

‘You went to Larressingle?' Cécile twisted to face Gillet, her mouth falling open.

‘Oh, oui, and what a journey!' exclaimed Armand, rolling his eyes. ‘But I had to sober him first.'

‘
We
, brother,' corrected Guiraud, arriving with a jug of ale in the company of Jean le Bossu, Mouse and Gabriel. They pulled up a bench and filled the cups. ‘
We
found Gillet drowning his misery in some seedy tavern by the docks.'

‘The man was so drunk he could not so much as scratch his arse!' laughed Mouse. ‘He'd been drinking for two days and was about to ride to Bordeaux to challenge the Prince when we found him! Had to gag and bind him until he saw plaguey sense. Then he told us what had happened.'

‘I have not drunk like that since I was a lad,' admitted Gillet. ‘But Armand did not believe your story for one minute.'

‘Nope,' said Armand, gulping his ale. ‘Not for a second!' He grinned at his younger brother. ‘But it was Guiraud who steered us in the right direction.'

The young man's cheeks coloured. ‘Some women were talking in the market place. A midwife was describing a recent birthing.' His face flooded to ruddy. ‘Normally I would pass by such conversation but there was something about this one that sounded familiar. The woman had just arrived on a boat and gone into labour on the docks. The midwife said that the difficult birth had left the new mother barren.'

‘We sat there in the tavern, staring at each other in deadly silence,' continued Armand quietly. He shrugged at Cécile. ‘It was the only thing that made sense as to why you would do what you did.'

‘We scoured Calais looking for the physician,' said Mouse gruffly. ‘He confirmed it, under the pressure of my dagger.'

Cécile looked over to Armand. ‘I never expected Gillet to come to Arras, but, Armand,' she hesitated, ‘why did you not want to see me? You must have known I needed you.'

Armand reached for her hand and pressed it to his lips. ‘And I know how it feels to be squeezed in a vice. Forgive me, Céci, but this time, Gillet needed me more. We'd also heard of the financial trouble the Mesdames were in with the manor. They had been threatened with expulsion for not paying taxes. Then Rosetta came to Calais to tell us you were with her but she had to sell the manor. We learned that you were healing.'

Realisation dawned upon Cécile. ‘The inheritance from her brother?' She glared in surprise at her husband. ‘That was
you
?'

Gillet nodded. ‘Then Armand and I rode to Larressingle. Without Armand, I'm not sure I would have made it.'

Jean le Bossu snorted with amusement as he twisted the sandy coloured curls of his beard. ‘You should have seen the poor man asking for your hand, Céc! I thought he was going to wet himself!' Gillet glowed bright red and shifted self-consciously.

‘Oh, oui,' laughed Armand, slapping his thigh. ‘He almost choked trying to ask permission to wed the Comte's little princess! Of course, Jean le Bossu and I felt it our duty to forewarn my uncle of his intentions. You should have seen Gillet's face when Uncle Jean played along and roared at him!' Armand set down his cup and puffed out his chest, flexing his arms 'til the muscles bulged. His fists curled at his hips to imitate a huge manifestation and his bellow was a perfect imitation of Jean d'Armagnac in anger.
‘You want to what?'

Gillet laughed outright. ‘I thought I was in for the beating of a lifetime, even worse than before!'

‘
Sacré bleu
,' burst Jean le Bossu. ‘That's right. All those years ago! And you would not have deserved it, Ghillebert d'Albret, just as you did not deserve it back then.' He grinned at Cécile. ‘I saw you, minx. I know what you did.'

‘Jean!' squealed Cécile.

The Comte's brows rose. ‘Would you care to explain yourself, son?'

‘Jean le Bossu d'Armagnac!' Cécile exclaimed in horror. ‘You cannot!'

‘Oh, yes he can,' chimed Armand. ‘After all, Céc, this is your wedding day. We are supposed to spin tales!'

‘I am waiting.' Comte Jean drummed his fingers on the board.

Jean le Bossu's eyes crinkled mischievously and his grin carried the satisfaction of a well-fed tomcat. ‘Whilst out playing, your precious little princess, Papa, purposefully ran amid our wooden blades to gain the attention of our good cousin, here. So, to keep her from harm's way he placed her on his pony, just as she knew he would. But that was not enough for our Céci, was it? She teased him without mercy, until he finally allowed her to hold both reins, but he
never
let go of the bridle. Unfortunately, I distracted him with my clumsi-ness and, the second his head turned, she kicked the horse! It all but dragged Gillet under before he let go.' In a brotherly manner, Jean le Bossu leaned over and punched Cécile's shoulder. ‘That's for all the years I castigated myself for not having spoken the truth that day. You could have got him killed, along with yourself!'

Cécile rubbed her arm indignantly. ‘If you felt so strongly, brother dear, why did you not speak out before now?'

Jean le Bossu's breath whistled between his teeth and he glanced warily at his father. ‘Sacré bleu. When I saw how Papa disciplined Gillet, I feared for your skin, for all our skins! And anyway, Gillet forbade me to speak.'

The Comte frowned at his son. ‘You could have saved the poor lad a thrashing.' Jean d'Armagnac's features softened as he turned to Gillet. ‘I am not a man given to regrets, son,' he announced gruffly, ‘but I acted impulsively that day. I would have you know that it has always sat ill upon my conscience. I doubt not that you suffered a worse fate when you arrived home, but your silence does you proud. As for you, girl …' Cécile's cheeks began to burn under her papa's fierce gaze. ‘It is time for you to put aside your wilfulness. You have married a man with great honour. Do not forget it! Let us hope your sense shall prevail and, if not,' he winked at Gillet, ‘then I give my permission for your husband to curtail your foolishness in any manner he sees fit.'

Cécile's mouth fell open.