The Gilded Crown (35 page)

‘Either way I will appear the villain.'

‘Then you have nothing to lose.' Simon placed his hand on Lady Dunbar's shoulder, her fragility palpable beneath the folds of her cloak. ‘I will ensure your safe return to Dunbar Castle.'

‘Thank you, Lord Wexford.' Agnes smiled. ‘I will be as swift as a woman of my age can be.'

The sun was cresting the horizon by the time they mustered in the stable. Walter had managed to secure a covered cart that was loaded down with several chests and a large number of pillows and plaids. Beatrix sat aboard and was hurriedly arranging her possessions as Roderick pushed between the maids.

‘For the love of God!' he declared, ‘is that the best you could do?'

‘Yes, it is,' Walter replied indignantly. ‘Had I more coin, I could have procured something a little better.'

‘That,' said Roderick, pointing, ‘is the saddest looking cart I have ever seen, as are the nags you have hitched to it!'

‘It will have to do,' Simon quipped.

‘You, Walter, Catherine and Gabby, our devoted sister and every gown she owns,' Roderick's eyebrow's shot skywards, ‘Lady Dunbar, Tiphanie and two maids, not to mention myself and an endless number of chests – all on one cart? Are you a magician, brother?'

Simon considered their transport more closely. Roderick was correct. Even if they removed their personal items, they would not be able to seat all the women aboard. ‘Have you no horse, Walter?'

‘I sold it for the carriage,' he replied smugly. ‘Where are your mounts, Wexford?'

‘They have been removed to a safe location for future use.' Simon frowned. He could send Roderick to look for something better but that would take time. He glanced at his wife, her face pale and drawn. They had no choice. ‘Remove the Odistoun's possessions. They can retrieve them at a later date.'

‘What! No, Simon.' Beatrix grabbed for the smallest of her three chests and defiantly sat upon it.

Roderick clambered up the rear running boards and began dragging out anything in his reach.

‘Walter, stop him,' Beatrix screeched as she attempted to stomp on her half-sibling's fingers. ‘That is my best plaid! Walter,
do
something.'

Lady Dunbar took hold of Catherine's arm and the two women moved away from the horses. Woken by the fray, Gabby added his voice to the melee, screeching his high-pitched displeasure.

‘Girda, see to my son before he wakes the entire castle,' Simon directed as he rounded on his sister. ‘Your wardrobe is of little worth. I will see it replaced.'

‘The coin you provide my husband is not spent on my needs,' Beatrix bemoaned as she wrestled the blanket from Roderick's grasp. ‘I will have naught but rags!'

‘Keep the plaid, but for the love of God, woman, lower your voice,' Roderick hissed.

‘I will set an account with your dressmaker,' Simon pleaded, his exasperation obvious to all. ‘Catherine and Lady Dunbar must have space to sit. Girda can squeeze beside you with Gabby, and the remaining ladies will have to walk alongside.'

English Mary and Tiphanie nodded their assent and went to stand with Beatrix's maids.

‘And what do you have planned for me? Roderick asked.

‘I intended to conceal you on the floor amongst the pillows, but that is no longer going to be possible.'

‘Might I suggest a deception?' Lady Dunbar removed her cloak and handed it to Roderick. ‘There are several large gowns in my chest that may just cover your girth.'

‘Are you proposing I dress as a maiden?' Roderick's horrified expression caused Walter to snigger.

‘It would be our best option.' Simon clamped his hand on his brother's shoulder. ‘We can cover you with a blanket and Lady Dunbar's cloak.'

‘I'd rather make my own way to Craigmillar.'

‘But I need you here!'

‘You can sit beside me,' suggested Catherine.

‘That way you can hold his hand,' Walter jested.

Roderick shot his tormentor a look of disgust. ‘Our snivelling brother-by-marriage is far more feminine than I! Throw him in the back with the women.'

‘I want Walter up front. The sentries are expecting Lord and Lady Odistoun and party to depart tonight and I will need to address whatever
arrangement
Robert Stewart has implemented to aid our escape. I am sorry, brother, there is no other choice.'

Roderick's shoulders slumped as Lady Dunbar passed him a large, linen gown. Discarding his doublet, he pulled the garment over his head. ‘It is far too short!'

‘Once you are seated we can cover your braies with the plaid. Now, bend on one knee,' Lady Dunbar instructed.

Simon stifled a grin as the old woman smoothed his brother's hair, then placed a veil and circlet upon his head.

‘This will appear much more effective,' she added.

‘I look ridiculous!'

‘No, Roderick,' Catherine disagreed as he squeezed in beside her. ‘More a very unattractive lady's maid.'

‘Perhaps if you hold Gabby?' Tiphanie suggested.

‘Yes, excellent,' Lady Dunbar agreed, shifting into her seat beside the unhappy Beatrix as the baby was passed to Roderick.

‘It will soon be Lauds. We must be on our way.' Simon pushed upon the large stable door and grasped the bay mare's reins. It took some encouragement to get the horses moving, the cart shuddering backwards and forwards several times before they had even exited through the doors. ‘We may need to discard the remaining chests.'

‘If you remove any more of my things, I will refuse to leave.' Beatrix stubbornly threw out her chin and crossed her arms.

‘I could walk?' Catherine suggested.

‘No, I want you and Lady Dunbar to remain seated, with your heads covered. Girda, I'm afraid …'

‘I am at your service, Lord Wexford,' Girda replied, clambering over the side.

The cart slowly rolled forward, the wheels bumping and deviating wildly between the cobblestones and ruts. Simon had dressed simply in a plain undershirt and woollen stockings covered by the worn, brown cloak obtained from the horse-master. He smiled as he recalled the look of disbelief as the man accepted his crimson, ermine-lined garment in return.

The light of early dawn streaked across the sky, though the approach to the castle remained in relative darkness, positioned as it was, further down the hill. Simon hoped they had timed their departure well. It would be much better to face weary sentries who had been on duty all night, than their replacements, fresh from a good night's sleep.

The horses were travelling at an annoyingly slow pace, making their approach observable for an extended period of time – long enough for several of the sentries to point and laugh.

‘Whoa, whoa there, slow down.' The sergeant-at-arms stepped from the shadows and stood in front of the Constable's Tower. ‘You appear to be in a hurry to leave,' he remarked sarcastically.

‘Lord and Lady Odistoun are returning to Craigmillar,' Simon announced, his grip on the bridle tightening.

‘Looks like you got quite a load?'

‘My wife is entering her confinement and I am removing the maids to attend her,' Walter qualified as the guard made his way towards the rear of the cart.

Simon turned and looked back into the carriage. Roderick had Gabby on his lap and had buried his face in the baby's shawl. Lady Dunbar had covered her head with her cloak and was leaning forward, to hide Catherine from view.

‘There are many women in your party and the day has barely begun. Thieves and vagabonds abound at this hour,' the sergeant continued. ‘Do you not think it wise to wait until there is greater amount of traffic on the road?'

‘I fear the horses will find the descent difficult and additional obstacles will only hinder our passage,' Simon explained.

‘Well, I certainly wouldn't want to end up behind you!' the guard sniggered.

Simon held his breath as the sergeant pulled back one side of the leather covering and peered at Roderick.

‘I don't recall seeing you about the kitchens?' The guard remarked to Roderick.

‘Lord Odistoun, departing so soon?' Robert Stewart strode towards them, dismissing the sergeant as he did so.

Walter's eyebrows shot skyward at the unexpected appearance of his nephew. ‘I am surprised to see you at this early hour.'

‘There are some things that require my personal attention, no matter the time of day.'

Simon nodded in acknowledgment. So this was Robert's plan!

‘Open the gate and let them through,' Lord Steward commanded as he turned to Walter. ‘'Tis well you depart at dawn for it will take more than a week for you to reach your destination in this contraption.'

‘I am in no hurry,' Lord Odistoun replied snidely.

‘Any parting message for the King?'

‘None that I would have you convey.'

The portcullis began to rise and Simon immediately encouraged the horses forward. ‘Thank you for your assistance, Lord Robert.'

‘May your journey be
productive
,' Robert replied, his gaze locking with Simon's.

The carriage inched beneath the gate and the loud clank of the closing mechanism brought a smile to Simon's face, but he did not look back, concentrating instead on the steep terrace ahead.

The winding road was treacherous and a light sea mist dampened the surface, causing the horses to lose their footing on several occasions. Passing the reins to Walter, Simon jumped from the cart and took hold of a head collar. The last thing they needed was a carriage accident, not now they were so close to the bottom of the hill.

‘Do not take the Netherbow Port,' Simon instructed Walter as he tugged the cart onto the verge.

‘Why? It is the best route.' Walter moved aside and allowed Simon to retake control.

‘If we were going directly to Craigmillar,' Simon replied, directing the horses over a small incline and onto a lower turning.

‘You are heading to Cowgate?'

Simon ignored Walter's question. His odious brother-by-marriage need not know their plans, particularly as he and Beatrix would not be joining them.

‘Are we hostages?'

‘You would need to be worth something to me if that were the case,' Simon jeered.

‘I am still the King's brother.'

‘As you are apt to remind me!'

‘I will not go willingly, I warn you—'

‘I have no intention of causing you harm,' Simon interrupted as they rounded a sharp bend and pulled up beside the Market Inn. ‘In fact, you and your wife and maids are free to go.' Simon resisted the urge to grin as he alighted the carriage.

Walter appeared genuinely surprised as he watched Simon and Roderick assist Catherine and Lady Dunbar from the cart. ‘I trust I shall be compensated?'

‘As long as you keep your mouth shut!'

‘I have just as much to lose from this situation as you,' Walter moaned and lowered his face as a small, well-dressed party on horseback passed them.

‘Then I would advise that you travel directly to Craigmillar and remain there quietly until you hear from me.'

Walter mumbled his displeasure as the carriage jolted forward and moved away quickly, assisted by the lighter load, Beatrix sitting forlorn in the rear with nothing more than one plaid and her cloak.

Catherine sat down on the larger of their chests which had been placed on a grassy knoll. The trip had been slow and, squeezed in between Roderick and Girda, she had been unable to stretch her legs. Tiphanie and English Mary seemed better for the walk, their faces flushed from the exercise.

Two young boys appeared from the side alleyway and carried off one of the chests.

‘Lady Wexford, would you care to walk with me to the rear of this inn?' Simon offered his arm.

‘I have no right to feel weary.' Catherine smiled. ‘Given that I have been seated all morning. Yet I am bone-tired.'

‘I am not surprised. You did not sleep well.'