The Order of the Lily (62 page)

The guests were almost beside themselves! Armand waited until they quietened, then he began again, building the atmosphere with his tone.

‘The day did arrive, they all stood in line

Clutching their weapons, the sight was divine.

The daughters, in turn, inspected at leisure

Each glorious weapon, held out for her pleasure.

There were all shapes and sizes. Which men would lose?

But finally the father told his daughters to choose.'

Armand perched himself on the bridal table.

‘Gillet spoke out, when it came to his turn

“If their weapons were snakes, then I have but a worm.”

He threw off his cloak and the girls they did stagger

When they feasted their eyes on his jewel-handled dagger.

It was modest, that's true, but it was sharp, stout and thick

Any lady would tell you, it would still do the trick!

‘Fiddle di, diddle dey do, fiddle di, diddle dee

His jewels were so precious, an antiquity.

Fiddle di, diddle dey do, fiddle di, diddle dest

The hand of my daughter for the weapon that's best.'

His audience was growing wilder, beating the boards, and they roared.

‘Catherine stepped forward, said, “Do what you will

But I will be taking the man with the quill.

He wrote me such words, a powerful verse

My choice must be careful for he is my first.”

He jumped up and grabbed her, and ran to the woods

And to his contentment she sampled his goods.

‘Fiddle di, diddle dey do, fiddle di, diddle dee

They all heard her laughing under the tree.

Fiddle di, diddle dey do, fiddle di, diddle dest

The hand of my daughter for the weapon that's best.'

Armand danced his way to Minette. With a squeak she buried her face in Griffith's doublet. His arm folded over her protectively.

‘Minette stepped forward to the man with the sword

And said, “I will take you, if you'll have me, milord.

Your sword is so strong, and see how it gleams

This is the weapon to fulfil all my dreams.”

He bent on one knee, “If you don't mind

That during the action, I just might go blind!”'

The burst of raucous laughter was only outdone by the terrible wailing of the chorus.

‘Fiddle di, diddle dey do, fiddle di, diddle dee

She said, “I don't mind, so long as it's me.”

Fiddle di, diddle dey do, fiddle di, diddle dest

The hand of my daughter for the weapon that's best.

‘Veronique stepped forward to the man with the cleaver

And said, “Milord, I am a believer.

I can see you handle your weapon with care.

If I should choose you, do you think we could share?”

“My lady, if you pick me, you can fondle my axe

And you'll find out how fiercely it slices and hacks!”

‘Fiddle di, diddle dey do, fiddle di, diddle dee

No words were needed as she sat on his knee.

Fiddle di, diddle dey do, fiddle di, diddle dest

The hand of my daughter for the weapon that's best.

‘The father sat drinking his freshly brewed mead

Contented he had only three mouths to feed.

“We cannot choose with all those weapons laid bare!”

Matilda fainted in total despair.'

Armand slowed his strumming and stepped towards Gillet and Cécile. He bowed graciously, his face serious. The laughter quietened.

‘Here my tale should end, but I think you'll consent

There is one more couple on whom I should vent.

He is tall, dark and handsome, and she, beauty divine

And he knew from the first, saying, “She is to be mine.”

All his life he desired her, I am testament to this

But fate sought to vex him in making her his.'

His voice softened and his gaze fixed upon Cécile. The room was deathly silent.

‘But he never gave up, for he knew his heart well.

Even though she had cast him deep into Hell

He faced all the odds, like a dragon to slay

Just to hear her sweet voice call him “Gillet.”'

He turned to Gillet, plucking his lute slower.

‘And her heart is true, it will always be so

Ne'er to stray to friend or to foe.

Such is rare, so wonderful this love

It could only have come from heaven above.

So place your faith and your doubts in the Lord

This marriage is blessed and He shall reward.'

The hall was hushed. Cécile smiled tearfully as, beneath the cloth, Gillet squeezed her hand. Armand hit a clanging chord and jumped backwards, laughing.

‘When they finally stopped fighting, they managed to wed

So I say, “Delay not! Let's plaguey put them to bed!”'

A wild roar broke forth, the maids squealing hysterically as they rushed to Cécile's side. The moment that she had both dreaded and awaited had arrived.

Gillet furtively acknowledged the men. ‘They will not give you much head start, sweetheart,' he advised her. ‘Armand has wound them too tight!'

Margot and Minette looped their arms through Cécile's and whisked her to the stairs. At the first floor, Cécile charged along the hallway only to be called back.

‘No. This way!' yelled Margot. The maids shrieked frantically. ‘Do you forget how this day began? We were moving you to another room!'

‘I'll warrant you had no notion it was to be a bridal chamber,' laughed Veronique. ‘Oh, hurry. I can hear them already!'

Cécile was hurled up the second flight and into a large room. She gaped in awe as they hurriedly unlaced her gown.

The huge, canopied bed was smothered in blue curtains and a goose-down coverlet, both embroidered with the gold lilies of France. It was surrounded by a sea of scattered furs and she could scarce take in the tapestries lining the walls. All she could see was a deer poised, with big, haunting eyes, before the arrow struck.

‘There is a nursery adjoining,' panted Margot, ‘but your son will not sleep there tonight. Cécile! Pay attention. The men will be here soon!'

She was hastily stripped and sponged with rose water.

‘Here,' said Margot, thrusting Cécile's garters into her hands. ‘Throw these as soon as the men appear. It will distract them.' Veronique was madly brushing out Cécile's hair but when she heard the rowdy thumping ascending the stairs, she squealed in panic.

The squires were first, and dived to retrieve the hastily flung apparel, neatly blocking the doorway as Cécile's cloak was quickly located. With much revelry, Armand and Gabriel burst in with Gillet hoisted upon their shoulders.

Amidst many a ribald comment, they stripped him naked, the men retreating as Lady Matilda took her position beside him. She kept her eyes on Cécile, unlike Veronique, who feasted her gaze liberally upon Gillet.

‘Oh!' she breathed, her hand fluttering to her throat. ‘He is
magnifique
.'

The men shuffled aside for Comte d'Armagnac. Margot kissed Cécile warmly and withdrew. The merriment had not subsided, but most comments were now bawdily and openly directed at Gillet's ability to fulfil his marital duty.

Jean d'Armagnac took up his position beside his daughter. He spoke in a voice that quavered with emotion. ‘I ask you now, son, in front of witnesses, to either claim or reject my daughter, for the perfections or blemishes she carries.'

‘Last chance to withdraw, Gillet!' The high-pitched woman's voice sounded suspiciously male.

‘Don't do it, Albret, don't do it!' came another falsetto squeal.

‘Reject Armagnac's “Princess?” He would not dare!' This last strident, badly-concealed voice sounded like Armand.

Veronique slipped the cloak from Cécile's shoulders and Minette held aloft her mistress's long hair. There was a collective intake of breath. Cécile flushed hotly as she felt everyone's eyes burning into her flesh.

‘
Sacré bleu
.' came a hushed voice. ‘What idiot said “don't do it?”'

Gillet face remained impassive, but his eyes darkened to black. ‘Take your fill, gentlemen, but know that, from this night forward, woe betide any man who deigns to stare at my wife thus. To do so, you can be assured you will have seen your last sunrise.' His focus shifted, dropping to her breasts, and then lowered, his voice husky as he proclaimed. ‘I accept your daughter, Comte d'Armagnac, and I declare that I see only perfection.'

Lady Matilda nodded. ‘Upon my niece, I have witnessed the same, merely a small scar exists below her lower left rib.'

Gillet's eyes rose, still following the contours of Cécile's body when a sudden commotion erupted from the doorway.

‘Well done, Albret! I am glad to see you could finally rise to the occasion,' hooted Mouse.

‘Oh!
Mon Dieu
,' gasped Veronique.

‘We have our proof that this marriage will be successfully consummated,' announced Jean d'Armagnac. ‘See them onto the sheets, and touching. Father, administer the final blessing and then let us leave them be.'

‘God's nails,' cursed Mouse. ‘Would that I were a painter. Those two are as beautiful as Gods from Olympus!'

‘Oh,
Dieu
,' cried Gabriel. ‘Find me a woman, any woman, quick!'

The door closed against the receding noise and, for the first time since Gillet's arrival that morning, Cécile found herself alone with him. She breathed deeply, the smell of the fresh linen unable to mask the masculine scent of the man beside her. Slowly she ran her hand over his waist and down one leg and was alarmed when he suddenly grasped her fingers to still them.

‘Touch me now, Lady, and I will be undone.'

Cécile smiled and boldly moved his hand to the warmth between her thighs. ‘Then be undone, for I have no wish to wait. I would become your wife,' she whispered.

Groaning, Gillet rolled over and the lovers became lost into a world that now lawfully belonged to them.

The small fire in the grate, lit to heat the cold stone walls, crackled cheerfully as the newlyweds drank wine in the aftermath of their love. Gillet smiled and settled Cécile into his arms. ‘I will tell you a secret, wife,' he murmured. He kissed her neck. ‘For many long years I wondered what became of the little girl with the golden mane. The day Catherine handed me your letter and I read that your betrothal had been broken, I knew you were meant to be mine.'

‘I would not have thought it,' replied Cécile, her tongue trailing leisurely down his throat. ‘We fought like a pair of lions on my escape from Paris.'

‘You were the one constantly trying to scratch my face!' laughed Gillet. He cupped her breast and kneaded it softly.

‘You
are
my lion,' groaned Cécile, arching. ‘Strong, fierce and protective.'

‘And you are my lily, the sweetest of all French flowers,' he replied, throwing back the coverlet. He put down his goblet. ‘My shining star and my destiny.'

‘Destiny?' Cécile gasped as her husband's lips replaced his hand. ‘And what awaits us, milord?' She dropped her empty goblet to the covers and buried her hands in his hair. ‘You are still hunted on French soil and damned on English.'

‘Hush, my love. There is always hope.'

‘Hope?' Cécile moaned as Gillet's lips moved over her throat.

‘Yes. I await a summons from the Comtesse d'Evreux,' he informed her between kisses.

‘Who?' Cécile arched again as Gillet reached her other side.

‘Blanche d'Evreux, the Vicomtesse de Gisors.' Gillet raised his head to stare at Cécile. His eyes were dark with desire. ‘Daughter to the King of Navarre, second wife to our dear, departed King Philippe.'

Cécile's eyes widened with surprise. ‘The Dowager Queen of France wants to see you?' ‘Whatever for?' She shifted on the mattress as her husband hovered temptingly above her.

‘She has a task for me. But hush. For now, I have only one task,' breathed Gillet, lowering himself. ‘And that is for my wife.' His lips crushed onto hers and together they lost themselves to both past and future.

To be continued in:

Lions and Lilies – Book Three – The Gilded Crown