Free The Gilded Crown by Catherine A. Wilson Page B

head prickled. She could almost feel him wrenching it. Without conscious thought she rubbed at her scalp. ‘The beast you fought in our room in Calais?’ Her hand dropped and her complexion paled further. ‘But he knows you as Ghillebert d’Albret. He could have had you arrested!’
    â€˜Which is why I had to silence him, but I have not forgotten how he treated you, or that I swore to kill him.’
    â€˜ God’s bones, Gillet ! Then why did you not do it when you had the chance?’
    Gillet struggled upright against the bolster. ‘That was not my chance. I will face him when there are no tourney rules to govern us or a hundred sets of eyes to lay judgment upon something about which they know nothing.’
    â€˜For the love of God, will he care about honour if the circumstance was reversed? If you wished me not to worry your dagger should have done its work!’ Cécile glared at her husband.
    â€˜Now do you see why I did not want to tell you? I knew you would react this way.’ He pulled her closer and tenderly tucked a curl behind her ear. ‘You need not fear a reprisal any time soon. Bonneuil and I have an agreement. When the time is right we shall settle our differences.’
    Cécile looked at him blankly. ‘And what is to stop him from going to the authorities now?’
    â€˜I extracted a solemn vow from him.’
    â€˜You may have honour, Gillet de Bellegarde, but has he? Will he uphold this vow?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Are you sure?’
    Gillet lifted one brow. ‘If I was not, then my dagger would have done its work. Besides, there are other tasks to which I would attend first.’ He fished beneath the covers and pulled out a parchment. ‘This just arrived. How do you feel about a trip to Gisors? My summons has arrived from the Vicomtesse d’Evereux.’

Craigmillar manor house was imposing, sitting atop a low hill overlooking the southern township of Edinburgh. The new wing, well under construction, was placed strategically adjacent the original building which had been a monastic house. Catherine was surprised by the number of men working on the inner ward that would connect the two structures.
    She pointed out the stonemasons to Simon. ‘They look like bees buzzing about their hive.’
    â€˜And there is the Queen herself,’ he said, steering his mount into the courtyard.
    Catherine followed, resisting the urge to pull back on the reins, hesitant to end their journey.
    Simon dismounted and addressed a short, stout woman, her head covered by an austere veil and wimple. ‘Sister, it is good to see you.’
    Lady Beatrix Odistoun opened her arms and accepted her brother’s embrace, though Catherine was sure Beatrix’s smile deteriorated into something more akin to a sneer.
    â€˜I must say I was shocked when I heard news of your marriage,’ she began, peering around Simon. ‘But I can see now why you did not wish to wait for the family’s approval. Your bride is beautiful.’
    â€˜Many people were surprised, Beatrix, that Catherine agreed to wed me!’ jested Simon, helping his wife from her saddle.
    â€˜Come now, Beatrix, let me inspect the newest member of our clan.’ Bending one knee, Walter of Odistoun lifted Catherine’s hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles. ‘Welcome to Scotland, fair lady.’
    â€˜Lady Catherine Wexford, my sister, Lady Beatrix,’ introduced Simon, ‘and her husband, Sir Walter of Odistoun.’
    â€˜Brother to our dear King David,’ Walter qualified as he rose to greet Simon.
    â€˜Half-brother,’ Beatrix muttered beneath her breath. ‘And where is Roderick?’
    â€˜He will join us in the coming days.’ Simon’s gaze settled on a pile of stones awaiting a master craftsman. ‘I hope our stay will not inconvenience you,’ he added, directing the conversation away from Roderick’s