The Lily and the Lion by Catherine A. Wilson & Catherine T Wilson

Author:Catherine A. Wilson & Catherine T Wilson [Wilson, Catherine A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction
ISBN: 9781742981741
Publisher: Sid Harta Publishers

‘You look as though you’ve just discovered someone has cut the coin purse from your belt.’ I plumped the cushion behind my cousin’s head. Madame Duvall was abed and I helped Armand into his.

‘Faith be, Céci, I feel as though someone has cut my throat instead! I might have to postpone our chess instruction today. Think you can amuse yourself this afternoon?’

‘Of course. I promised Ruby a good rub down. That’s if Gillet can tear himself away from Madame de Caux long enough to take me for our daily ride.’

Armand laughed. ‘What? Jealous?’

I spluttered inelegantly and thumped another cushion into place. ‘No, are you?’

‘Oh, I have a sneaking suspicion that I am not in the running.’

With my cousin settled, I headed for the stables and met Gillet at the bottom of the stairs. He received one of my very best smiles.

‘Ah, Cécile, good. Turns out this play is to be held at the mayor’s residence so wear your best velvet, Lady Sprite.’ He winked at me and, humming to himself, took the stairs by twos. My smile was left to hang as wan as an old, ragged tapestry. Clarissa!

Half an hour later I was brushing Ruby with far more gusto than the poor mare deserved. Dropping the brush in favour of the comb, I attacked her tail. Ruby eyed me warily, stomping her hoof as I ruthlessly pulled at a knot. The comb landed next to the brush and I collapsed with despair onto the straw, tears welling. Clarissa’s father had already sold my blue velvet gown.

Gazing out from my chamber window as the vesper bells chimed, I sighed wretchedly at the silhouetted landscape. A full, golden moon was on the rise. The evening would be a perfect one but it would not be mine to enjoy. My stomach lurched as the inevitable knock sounded. I opened my door to Gillet’s quizzical stare. He observed my green bliaut with distaste. ‘Cécile, we are to leave soon. You are not attired!’

‘I cannot go.’

His brows shot up in astonishment. ‘Why ever not?’

‘I just cannot. Can we leave it at that?’

‘Non, we cannot. Cécile, look at me. Do you not want to come?’

‘Oui, I do but … I … I … do not …’

‘Yes?’

‘I do not feel well either.’ My heart juddered as he placed the back of his hand against my forehead, his voice achingly gentle.

‘You are not feverish.’

I returned to the window seat. ‘Nevertheless, I am unwell and it is a full moon.’

‘A full moon? Good Lord! What has that to do with anything?’

I folded my arms resolutely. ‘I am not tied to you in wedlock, Sir. You are not privy to any further explanation.’

‘Indeed I am! I am your keeper, and your health and well-being are my concern. You will oblige me with an explanation right now.’

‘Ooh! Have it your way then! I am indisposed. ’

He stepped back as though he had just encountered a leper. ‘Oh! Your pardon, Lady. I, er, well, that is to say Lady de Caux is waiting and I should go.

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