Annabel’s face grew hot and a red fog seemed to descend over her vision. “I will not. I do not take orders from you, and if you do anything to hurt Lord le Wyse,” Annabel hissed in Beatrice’s face, “I’ll give you a bloody nose you’ll never forget.”
Annabel tried not to show it, but she was shocked at her own vehemence. What had come over her? She was shaking all over as she stared at Beatrice’s stunned expression.
Mistress Eustacia hurried into the room, asking Beatrice if she was all right. Annabel turned and left the room.
That afternoon, as Annabel took a break from her labors in the kitchen, she walked to the edge of the courtyard and breathed in deeply of the fresh, early autumn air. Birds twittered nearby, and Annabel took several deep breaths, still thinking of what had happened during the special court session.
Gilbert Carpenter approached her, striding across the courtyard.
“Hello, Annabel.” He nodded to her.
“Oh, hello, Gilbert. How is the building coming along?”
“Very well. Lord le Wyse is pleased.” Gilbert moved closer and smiled.
This is it, time to be honest with him. “I feel I need to tell you something. I’m not going to be able to marry you.” Annabel made her tone as gentle as possible. “You see, Lord le Wyse has kindly arranged for me to enter a convent. As soon as the sickness that is plaguing the abbey is gone, I will be leaving.”
Gilbert’s posture softened.
“I’m sorry,” she went on, “but I know there is some worthy woman out there waiting for a man like you. You’ll make her very happy, I’m sure.”
Gilbert smiled wanly at her. “I thank you for telling me. Lord le Wyse will be allowing me to go back to Lincoln in a few weeks. Adam will find me a wife there, don’t you think?”
Annabel smiled back. “I’m sure he will. He is a wonderful little boy. I know you’re proud of him.”
He smiled broadly and nodded. “I’ll see you tonight at supper then.” He turned and walked away.
That was nearly painless. She was surprised that being honest was easier than pretending she might come to love the man just to keep from hurting his feelings.
Annabel hummed as she hung the sheets on the line. The wind at her back sent the chill of coming winter across her shoulders as she hurried to finish her task and return to the warm kitchen.
Six weeks had passed since the coroner’s inquest, and Beatrice, instead of harassing her about staying away from Lord le Wyse, had actually been friendlier with her. Ever since the day Annabel stood up to her and told her she wouldn’t stop reading to Lord le Wyse, Beatrice always spoke to her with respect, asking her opinion and listening to her, daring anyone else to disparage what Annabel said. Life in the undercroft had become downright pleasant.
Beatrice still flirted with Lord le Wyse, though she was more subtle about it. Instead of hanging all over him and pretending to hurt herself, she smiled at him and always had something to say to him whenever he was nearby. Annabel sometimes wondered if Lord le Wyse would grow to like her attention. Would he think she was a sweet girl? Could he ever think of marrying her? Certainly the girl seemed to adore him. Any man would want that, she supposed. But those kinds of thoughts always made Annabel uneasy, even sick inside, so she pushed them away.
Standing in the clearing beside the manor house, she slipped another bedsheet onto the clothesline. Hammers and chisels rang out from the small hill, and the loud voices of the laborers could be heard beyond the trees. Lord le Wyse’s new home was rising to life. The front wing of the stone structure was complete enough that her lord would be moving in today. Now he had the privacy he’d lacked since his arrival in Glynval.
A crackling sound behind her caught her attention. Someone was walking toward her. She spun around.
“Forgive me if I startled you.”
“Lord le Wyse.”
She began to smile but faltered when she noticed his slow, purposeful stride toward her. His brown eye was fixed on her face.
“I have two things to tell you.” He sighed and motioned to two tree stumps, just the right height for sitting.
Annabel stopped hanging the laundry, and they both sat.
“My aunt has written to me again. She believes it’s safe now for you to go to the abbey.” His expression was solemn as he spoke in a soft voice he seemed to use for no one’s ears but hers. “And the second thing is that Bailiff Tom came to me this morning. He remembers everything that happened that night.”
“Oh. What will he do?” Annabel whispered back, her heart in her throat.
“He had some idea to bring you and Stephen to court, but I told him I would expose everything he had ever done to you, including the violence of what he was trying to do to you that night, and that he would lose any fight of that kind. I also told him I was relieving him of his bailiff duties, and if he complained to anyone about it, I would not give him the six months’ pay I was planning to settle on him.”
Annabel nodded. “Th-that is good.” She was surprised at how nervous just talking about Bailiff Tom still made her. She squeezed her hands together. “Did he agree? Was he angry?”
“He agreed, and I’m sure he was angry. I have already told the most loyal of my men to watch out for him, and if they see him coming around here, to have him followed and to come and tell me.”
His words and actions made her dizzy with gratitude.
A muscle in his jaw twitched as he went on. “Not that you will need to worry about Tom any longer, as you’ll be going to the abbey tomorrow. I give you leave to go to your home and gather what possessions you left there. Gilbert is waiting for you at the manor house and will escort you there and help you carry your things.”
“Oh.” So it was to happen so quickly? Was she to say goodbye to him now? Here?
He looked straight into her eyes. “Please come back and stay one more night here, if you wish, so that you can start your journey at first light. Gilbert will accompany you to the abbey. It’s only a day’s ride.”
The breath she’d been holding rushed out. She still had until morning with Lord le Wyse. They would be able to spend one more evening together.
“Very well, my lord.” She curtsied.
He turned without a word and strode away from her.
Strange that she didn’t feel any sense of loss at parting from her own mother and brothers, but the thought of putting so much distance between herself and her lord made her wonder if she was doing the right thing.
When Annabel went to see her family, she found the three of them pretty much as she’d left them. Edward still planned to go to London, Durand sat around looking listless, and her mother seemed falsely cheerful.
“Mother, Lord le Wyse is allowing me to go to Rosings Abbey. He’s sending me there tomorrow.”
“But why?” her mother exclaimed.
“How did you manage that?” Durand asked.
“What did you do to make him send you away?” Edward looked at her with an evil sneer.
“I’ve always wanted to live in a nunnery and study the Bible,” Annabel told them. “You know that. Lord le Wyse …” How could she explain? She couldn’t tell them that she was possibly in danger from the bailiff over his accident. “He found out I wanted to go to an abbey, so he is sending me.”
Edward shook his head. Mother passed a hand over her hair. “You could have made a good match,” her mother said sadly. “If your father had been alive, he would have taken you to London and found a wealthy husband for you, and then our family wouldn’t have the troubles we now have.”
“Why would you ask him to send you to a nunnery?” Edward demanded. “You must be daft. How does that benefit anyone? If he is sending you there, he must be sending money as well. You should have asked him for money instead. That would have at least benefited someone.”
“They do have good herbal healers at nunneries.” Durand’s face brightened. “Perhaps I can come visit you and you can tell the nuns with the greatest healing gi
fts about my illnesses, and the pains in my head. They might prescribe a remedy for me.”
Edward closed his eyes in disgust. “Didn’t you think at all of your family? You’re selfish. You’re a selfish, conceited sister.” Edward flung the words at her and stalked away down the hall, slamming his bedchamber door.
Her mother cried, sniffing and wiping her eyes, but didn’t say anything else. In fact, her family made little comment as she gathered her remaining possessions. Hadn’t they missed her? Didn’t they wonder how she had gotten along at the manor house with all the other servants? Did they assume all had been well with her, or did they simply not care?
Dusk of her last day in Glynval was only a few hours away as Annabel plodded along beside Gilbert, who carried the two bags that contained all her earthly possessions. Tomorrow she would be on her way to the abbey.
She was no longer sure why she was going.
She had wanted to enter an abbey so that she might read the Holy Scriptures. And she had wanted to get away from Bailiff Tom. But she was already reading the Holy Scriptures. She and Lord le Wyse had made it through the entire New Testament in the last few weeks. And as for Bailiff Tom … if he revealed what happened that night in the forest, she might have to admit to the entire village how he had tried to take advantage of her. But if Lord le Wyse was standing near her, even that might be bearable.
Certainly her reasons for cloistering herself in an abbey were fewer and less urgent than they had once been, but the fact remained that she had no wish to be coerced into marriage by her life situation. The whole concept of marriage had always seemed somewhat unappealing to her … And yet, hadn’t she felt something, some new feeling she’d never felt before, for Lord le Wyse in the last few weeks?
She felt repulsed by the thought of marrying Bailiff Tom, or anyone else. Anyone else, that is, except Lord le Wyse.
She didn’t like the path her mind was taking. Her lord was a good man, chivalrous and honorable and worthy of her respect. He’d helped her in so many ways. It was wrong to think about him this way.
She pressed her hands against her burning cheeks.
Annabel stumbled over a root in the pathway. Gilbert glanced at her. “Are you well?”
She nodded.
Strange that she was having these thoughts now, when her ultimate goal was about to be achieved. She would be safe from all the grumbling and anger lingering around Glynval since the coroner’s abandoned inquiry, and since Maud claimed that their lord was cursed and was causing Glynval’s troubles.
But as she pictured the abbey, a huge gray building with smaller buildings surrounding it, and a high wall around the entire compound, it didn’t give her a feeling of safety. Instead, loneliness, sameness, and solemnity seemed to emanate from the cold stone walls.
Safety was being near Lord le Wyse, hearing him say he would protect her, and feeling his arms around her.
Nay! She wiped a hand across her forehead, trying to wipe away the unbidden images and sensations. O God, take these thoughts from my mind. I have no desire to transgress against Lord le Wyse in this way. He’s my lord and should not be — that is, it is wrong to have such — O God, save me.
Annabel felt listless as she helped prepare for the evening meal. Not even Mistress Eustacia’s chatter in the kitchen could lift her spirits.
She was turning a pig on a spit over the fire when the door opened and Lord le Wyse stepped inside, letting in the chill wind of fall.
A smell, an intangible feeling, was in the air. Perhaps a storm was coming. It had been so dry since the fateful day of the inquest, a storm would be welcome. But a shudder passed over her shoulders as the chill seemed to pass through her bones.
She had never seen her lord’s face looking so pale. “Is something wrong, my lord?”
He ignored her question and focused on Mistress Eustacia. “Annabel is leaving us tomorrow morning. I wish for you to accompany her and Gilbert on the journey to the abbey. That is all.” He bowed slightly and backed out the door.
The two women stared at each other.
“What does it mean, child?” Mistress Eustacia’s eyes were wide with wonder.
“I’m entering the abbey. Though I don’t know why Lord le Wyse wants you to go with me.” The foreboding feeling expanded inside her. Something was wrong.
“The abbey? Why, child — but I’d hoped …” Mistress Eustacia pursed her lips and turned away.
Now her mistress was angry with her for not listening when she told Annabel that the abbey was not for her, that she should marry.
Annabel thought she would be full of joy when she was finally able to leave Glynval and go to a nunnery. But the expression on Lord le Wyse’s face, the way he ignored her question and wouldn’t even look at her …
Was she doing the wrong thing?
Ranulf stared out the glass window from the second floor of his new home. Some movement at the edge of the cleared area in front of the castle caught his eye. Tom atte Water and several other men crouched behind some bushes fifty feet from the steps leading up to the front door.
Tom and the men squinted up at the stone edifice, toward Ranulf. Then they ducked their heads, speaking to each other and gesturing. Each man held a weapon — a knife, a spear, or a longbow with a quiver of arrows over one shoulder. They seemed to be on a hunt — and he was their prey.
It was beginning. He’d been half expecting it. He went to look for his sword and found it, as well as a crossbow and several arrows, an old battle ax his father had once carried, a shield, and a spear. If it was a fight the villagers wanted, so be it.
His new home was only partially complete, but even if it were, there were no real defenses planned in the design: no protective wall, no crenellations to hide behind, no gatehouse or guards to keep out intruders. He was vulnerable to attack, and it looked as if Tom had already stirred up the people against him.
He rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily. He hadn’t hired a new bailiff yet, and none of the men he’d brought with him were fighting men. They were builders, carpenters, laborers.
He looked out the window again. Tom and the men of the village were retreating. It would soon be dark; perhaps they wanted to wait until morning.
He would have to round up the men he’d brought from Lincoln and tell them what was happening. At least they were loyal, and they were strong. As they had to be, for they would probably be outnumbered two to one.
If it came down to it, Ranulf would rather die alone than get any of them killed. But at least Annabel and Eustacia would be out of Glynval at first light.
He stared at the rose on the mantle of his new home, in the vase Eustacia had been filling with fresh flowers for several weeks. The rose that was in the vase now was wilting fast. Several petals had already fallen off. It was almost as if the rose was commiserating with him, as the spirit of life prepared to depart from them both.
Chapter
19
As they ate that night, Annabel’s eyes skirted to Lord le Wyse, sitting at the head of the table. He kept his head down and said nothing. The quietness of the workers increased her feeling of foreboding. She’d never seen the people so hushed, as if they shared a secret and dared not talk for fear of divulging it. Their gazes darted from person to person, to Lord le Wyse, and back to the food on their trenchers. No one hurriedly ate and left either, but all lingered, as though expecting something to happen.
Was she imagining it? All day it was as if little bugs were jumping under her skin, making her rub her arms to try to get rid of the feeling. Now, as she looked around the room at her fellow workers, she was sure something was about to happen. But what?
The only person in the room who didn’t seem anxious was Lord le Wyse, though every time she tried to meet his eye, he refused to look up at her.
God, what is happening?
Annabel left her food almost untouched. How could she eat when her stomach was twisting like a contortionist? She began cleaning up, hoping to inspire the others to
get up and leave. She had no idea what she would say to him, but she wanted time alone with Lord le Wyse the way a thirsty man wanted water. How could she leave tomorrow without speaking with him one last time? A twinge of fear pinched her at what he might say tonight, fear about whatever was making him avoid her eye. Still, she couldn’t resist the craving to look into his face — and have him look into her eyes and speak to her one last time.
She should be concentrating on her new life, on getting away from the place that had caused her pain, on finding peace and tranquility in the house of God. Prayer and contemplation would be the tasks of her day. She would be happy in her new home. Her life would change for the better and she would have no more reason to fear.
Finally, a few people shuffled out the door, looking over their shoulders. She longed to ask someone what was afoot. Beatrice had a wide-eyed, expectant look, but when Annabel caught her eye in hopes of asking her what was happening, Beatrice just turned away.
At least everyone was finally leaving. Mistress Eustacia was one of the last to go, and she gave Annabel a sad, backward glance, pursing her lips together as though she was holding back tears.
At least she could account for her mistress’s sadness. Mistress Eustacia would never see her again after tomorrow and would miss her. Annabel would miss her too. The realization struck her so forcefully that tears pricked her eyelids and she had to blink several times to drive them away.
Lord le Wyse was watching her, his face suddenly alert.
“My lord, may I read to you tonight?” She was surprised at the way her voice shook as she looked into his eye.
He regarded her for a moment without speaking, staring intently, as though he was trying to sear her face into his memory.