The hundred bailiff spoke. “If no one has any factual information to offer this inquest, I am forced to declare the injury of Bailiff Tom atte Water an accident, unless he, of his own accord, decides to make a complaint.”

  Annabel watched Sir Clement’s face. He knew everything and yet he wouldn’t reveal the truth.

  The clerk, sitting at his tiny desk, wrote while the hundred bailiff spoke, and while dipping his quill in the ink, he neither lifted his eyes nor his head.

  “May the bailiff recover and God’s grace shine upon him and the village of Glynval,” Sir Clement concluded.

  At that moment, the skies began to release their first raindrops, and the people scattered, hunching their shoulders as they hurried away to find shelter from the storm.

  Sir Clement went over to help his clerk by rolling up the parchment and tucking it into a bag to keep it dry while the clerk packed up his things.

  Annabel’s eyes flicked to Maud, standing in the rain, and she could have sworn she saw steam rising from the girl’s head. The way Maud narrowed her eyes at Lord le Wyse before turning away sent a shiver through her. Annabel should have been relieved at the way things had concluded, but her insides still trembled with foreboding.

  A hand closed around her elbow. She jumped and turned her head.

  “Oh, it’s you, Stephen.” She threw her arms around his neck. “God saved us, didn’t He?”

  “He did indeed.”

  Annabel pulled away. “You should get out of the rain.”

  Stephen nodded. Annabel turned and ran to the manor house.

  Maud left Lord le Wyse’s service that day, clearing her things out of the undercroft. Annabel didn’t see her after the inquest, but some of the other maids said she was to live with her sister in a nearby village. Annabel prayed for her but was relieved she no longer had to see Tom’s daughter.

  Beatrice’s duties as a dairymaid increased. On the first day of Maud’s absence, she sat at one end of the upper hall churning butter as Annabel swept the floor. The girls chatted, until Lord le Wyse came through the door and walked across the nearly empty hall to the screened-off corner of the room where his bed and trunks were stored. Annabel glanced at him as he passed by her.

  Beatrice was watching him as well. She smiled her biggest, toothy grin. “Good morning, Lord le Wyse.”

  He mumbled, “Good day.”

  The fact that he didn’t even glance in Beatrice’s direction gave Annabel an unaccountable feeling of joy.

  “Is there anything I can help you with?” Beatrice asked. Her smile was wasted, as Lord le Wyse was hidden behind his screen.

  He didn’t answer her, and with a small smile of her own, Annabel went on sweeping. Then she heard a quick series of loud thuds. She looked up to see Beatrice sprawled on the floor, her head and shoulders pinned against the wall by the heavy butter churn. Her stool lay overturned beside her. She certainly has persistence.

  “Help me! I can’t move!” Beatrice whimpered dramatically, struggling feebly on the floor.

  Lord le Wyse emerged from behind his screen. Annabel hurried to help, but Lord le Wyse was closer. He reached down and lifted the stone churn off of Beatrice then held out his hand to her.

  “Oh, thank you, Lord le Wyse.” She clasped his hand and let him help her up, then pretended to stumble into him, throwing her arms around his neck.

  Annabel felt her face get hot. Could Lord le Wyse see what Beatrice was doing? And did he think Annabel had done the same thing when she had cried in his arms?

  Lord le Wyse patted Beatrice on the back with one hand but didn’t embrace the girl. He looked over her shoulder at Annabel. “Could you set that stool up?”

  She righted the stool and Lord le Wyse promptly lowered Beatrice onto it, holding her by her arms. Beatrice continued to cling to him.

  “I’ve hurt my ankle again. Oh, Lord le Wyse, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here. You saved me again.”

  Lord le Wyse gently extricated her hands from around his neck and pulled away from her as soon as he was free. “I’ll go get Mistress Eustacia to come look at your ankle.”

  He turned and strode across the room and out the door.

  Annabel frowned down at Beatrice.

  Beatrice smirked at her. “Picking up ideas of your own, Annabel? With all that time you spend with him every night, I would think you would have already found a way to his heart. But maybe you’re too prudish.”

  She stared at the girl’s big nose and rude sneer. “I’d rather be prudish than throw myself at my lord, like you, Beatrice.”

  Beatrice rose to her feet. “’Maybe you’re afraid of Lord le Wyse. Is that it? Does he scare you, Annabel?” She laughed.

  Beatrice stepped toe to toe with Annabel, their noses almost touching. Punching Annabel’s shoulder with her fingernail, she said, “I want you to stay away from Lord le Wyse. He’s mine. You will tell him that you can’t read to him anymore, that it’s improper. Do you hear me?”

  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 som
etimes 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 gifts 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.