Lilies for Love (14 page)

'And that was why he was so insistent yesterday that I honour my pledge to marry you? Although I have to say, I do not recollect any such pledge between us.'

'No, there never was. I think it was Dame Alice's fond hope that the two of us might make a match, but you have nothing to reproach yourself with, Hugh. Anselm is trying to build a castle out of straw when he says there is an understanding between us.'

'Do you want me to try to talk to him, to put in a good word for your thatcher?'

'It's too late for that!' Now there was real distress in Emma's voice. She looked up at Hugh. 'Don't you see? After you told me of your quarrel with Anselm, I went to plead with him, but he would not listen, he pushed me away. I fear that he has fallen in with bad company, Hugh, for I found him at the cockfighting pit, making wagers, spending coins we cannot afford. I swear he had been drinking, for he was unsteady on his feet, and seemed to be paying more attention to a pair of half-dead birds than to me. But he must have been listening to me after all and taken great insult from it, for this is the result!' There were tears in her eyes. Emma blinked them away. 'I came as soon as I heard what had happened. Oh, Hugh, I am so sorry for this, and I am sure Anselm will be too, once he is sober, once he's had time to reflect on his actions. I'm just so grateful he didn't manage to kill you!'

'So am I!' Hugh laughed, but with little amusement. 'But I think you're wrong about Anselm, truly I do. I didn't see who attacked me, but I didn't notice Anselm among the crowd around us, and neither did Johanna. In fact, they were mostly women and children.'

A brief glow of hope lit Emma's face. Then she frowned. 'Perhaps he hid himself until the last moment?' she fretted. 'Be sure I'll ask him. I'll find out the truth of the matter.'

'In the meantime, tell me what I can do to help you in your troubles.'

'I don't know.' Now Emma looked worried. 'Stay out of Anselm's way, for the first part. For the second, I wanted to see how you are, and to apologise for Anselm. I can't believe he would do such a thing! I also wanted to make sure that someone was taking good care of you.' She flashed a grateful smile at Janna. Her forehead creased into a frown once more as she turned back to Hugh. 'I confess I can't see any way out of this coil of trouble other than to give up my attachment to Peter, and that I will not do.'

'If you are worrying that your brother is drinking and gambling, perhaps you should stay away from him for the while, just until he returns to his senses. And take courage, Emma, for the fair will soon be over and then you may depart back to your manor. Will Anselm go with you? Does he live there with you still?'

Emma nodded. 'I wish he did not,' she said bitterly. 'Then he would not be able to interfere with my life as he does now.'

'Have you spoken to the lord of the manor regarding your match with Peter? If he sanctions it, then surely your brother will have to agree?'

'We haven't asked my lord, but what you say is true.' Emma looked somewhat happier. 'I shall speak to Peter about it.'

'He does want to marry you?'

'Oh, yes.' A sudden smile smoothed the worry from Emma's face. 'It's what we both want more than life itself,' she said. 'See what he has given me as a token of his love?' She pointed proudly at a ring which she wore on her right hand. Both Hugh and Janna leaned forward for a closer look.

It was a broad band of gold chased with lilies, so carefully enamelled that the drooping white trumpets and interlinking foliage looked like miniatures of the real thing. Janna wondered how a humble thatcher could afford to purchase anything so fine, and had her question answered almost immediately.

'I admired it yesterday at the fair,' Emma said, adding somewhat defensively, 'Peter tried to buy it for me as a betrothal gift, but he didn't have enough coins and so we bought it together. I shouldn't really wear it until we are wed, but it is so pretty I cannot resist it. Besides, it is safer on my finger than off it.'

'Peter is here, at the fair?' Hugh was startled. 'Is that wise?'

'Never fear, he is keeping out of Anselm's way.' Emma bent to kiss Hugh goodbye, then cast a curious glance at Janna. 'I'll leave you in the good care of Sister Johanna,' she said, and walked out.

'Do you believe that Anselm was behind the attack on you, sire?' Janna asked, as soon as she could be sure that Emma was out of hearing.

Hugh frowned. 'I know not,' he said slowly. 'I know him well, and I would have said such an action was not in his character. Yes, I have seen him angry before now. He has a quick temper, but I have never known him attack a defenceless man without provocation. Certes I did not recognise him in the crowd coming towards us just before I was attacked, and yet whoever did the deed must have been there among them.'

'If not Anselm, then who?' Janna asked, coming back to the central question that worried her. 'Did you recognise anyone from your aunt's manor, my lord, anyone at all?'

'No.' Hugh shot her a sideways look. 'You're still worried about Robert, aren't you?'

Janna nodded. She picked up the salve left ready for her by Sister Anne, and turned back to the bed. 'Could you please lift your shirt, my lord,' she said, and blushed, feeling the heat sweep right through her body.

With a grin, Hugh obeyed, but he winced as she unwrapped the cloth that bound the wound. 'It is quite clean and is healing well,' Janna told him as she carefully smoothed the cool paste over the ugly gash in his side. She felt him shrink from her touch and knew that she hurt him, but he kept silent. 'You are lucky, my lord,' she reassured him. 'The dagger could have gone deeper, and done a lot more damage than it has.'

'A glancing blow, one meant to warn rather than kill, think you?'

'Or a blow meant for me and, perhaps, checked when the assailant realised he had the wrong mark?'

'I wish you would put that thought out of your mind, Johanna. I feel sure the blow was meant for me and, whatever Emma says, I must see Anselm again and talk to him about it.' Hugh moved restlessly. 'I will visit him just as soon as you let me out of here.'

'Is that wise, my lord?'

Hugh gave a small huff of amusement. 'I shall visit him at his manor, when he has had a chance to cool down and sober up.'

Janna hesitated. It was not her place to advise him, and yet he had asked that she stay to hear Emma's story, so presumably he placed some value on her opinion. 'Should this not be something that is better left for brother and sister to work through?' she asked diffidently. 'It would be a shame to heat things up again, make matters worse by your interference, especially as you have all been friends from childhood.'

Hugh looked thoughtful. 'You may well be right,' he admitted, 'but I can't stay away and do nothing to help, not when Emma's future happiness is at stake.'

'You risk your life by interfering,' Janna reminded him.

'I doubt Anselm will try anything like that again. He is not a violent man – well, not usually.' In spite of his reassuring words, Hugh sounded troubled.

'He must care deeply about his sister to go to these lengths for her.'

'Just as I care for her, and must do all in my power to help her.'

Janna saw that Hugh was bound to his course, and that nothing she could say would dissuade him from it. 'Then I wish you success, my lord.' She finished spreading the last of the cream, and bound the wound tight with a clean linen bandage.

'I suppose a goodnight kiss is out of the question?' Hugh asked, with a twinkle in his eyes.

A quiet rustle behind Janna alerted her to the fact that they were not alone. 'I don't believe that's part of your treatment, but you could ask Sister Anne to oblige, if you feel a kiss might help your recovery.' With flushed cheeks and bright eyes, she pushed past the infirmarian and fled.

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insistence, Janna stayed behind in the abbey the following day. 'We cannot both go to the fair, for someone must stay here to attend our new patient,' the infirmarian fussed. 'I would send you, Sister Johanna, but I fear you might not be safe on your own. But I worry that it might not be safe for you here, either. The lord Hugh may not be aware of proper decorum here in our abbey, so for your own sake you would be well advised to keep your distance from him. There can be no future in a liaison with him, you know that, don't you?' She bustled off without giving Janna a chance to reply.

Janna knew that the nun's advice was sound. Nevertheless, she was happy to stay behind, the presence of Hugh being more than enough compensation for missing the delights of the fair. The thought of the bailiff, anxiously awaiting news of Agnes, sat heavy on her mind, but there was little she could do about it. To send a message with Sister Anne was out of the question. Besides, Janna reasoned, Agnes had seemed to like the man in spite of her fear and, with further thought, might well repent her decision if it was given too hastily. Better to leave it alone for the moment, and see if time wrought any change to her feelings.

As a lay sister, and with work to do in the infirmary, Janna had been excused from attending most of the offices that the nuns observed through the day and night. Nevertheless, she was expected to attend Mass every morning, and so she did, going on afterwards to the chapter house to report on her patients. She sat patiently while the business of the abbey was discussed and waited, with some curiosity, to hear details of the latest sins. But for once Sister Martha was silent. They were about to file out of chapter when a scared voice piped up from the back of the room.

'I have found the missing pages from Sister Ursel's manuscript.'

A deathly hush fell over the convent, broken only by a gasp of relief, quickly suppressed, from Sister Ursel. Every eye turned on the hapless novice who had spoken up. She slowly withdrew from her sleeve two sheets of vellum. Even standing some distance away, Janna could see clearly the glowing illuminations that bordered the script: gold, blue, red and green birds and flowers, all minutely observed and exquisitely drawn. She echoed the scribe's sigh as she realised that, although somewhat crumpled, the pages were undamaged.

'Why did you take these pages?' The abbess's voice was awful in its thunderous judgment.

'But . . . but I d-didn't.' In her fright, the novice stammered almost as badly as Sister Ursel. Desperate to avoid blame, she rushed into explanation. 'I . . . I found them lying under a bush in the cloister garth. I was just walking past on my way to chapter, and . . . and the pale colour of the parchment and the gleaming gold and colours of the illuminations caught my eye. I . . . I must confess to the Sin of Curiosity, but I stepped aside to see what it could be.' She hastened forward, holding the sheets towards the abbess. 'See, Reverend Mother,' she cried. 'The pages are still slightly damp from the dew. In Christ's holy name, I do not know how they got under the bush for I did not take them, but I give thanks that they are found undamaged.'

'I . . . I s-searched all the c-cloisters, M- Mother, when the p-p-pages went m-missing. They were n-not th-there when . . . when I l-looked b-before.'

The abbess nodded thoughtfully. She gestured to the novice to return the missing pages to Sister Ursel. 'I will speak to you in my rooms,' she told her sternly, and turned to survey the silent nuns. 'This is not the end of the matter. Be sure I shall be asking questions of you all.'

'Someone must have taken those pages deliberately,' Agnes said, when she and Janna came together after chapter. 'Who do you think it could be? Who would want to do such a thing?'

'I don't know.' Janna shook her head in wonder. 'Have you seen Sister Ursel's work? It's so beautiful, I can't believe anyone would risk damaging it by taking the pages.' She mused silently for a moment. 'It's an act of great cruelty,' she said. 'Sister Ursel has enough affliction to bear, without taking away her peace of mind.'

'Ah yes, her peace of mind.' Surprised by the echo of bitterness in Agnes's voice, Janna raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question.

'Have you noticed, Janna, that although we all profess to love the Lord and are happy in His work, our small jealousies and tempers, our wishes and desires still manage to disturb the peace of the abbey as well as our own serenity?'

Janna scrutinised Agnes. She wondered if this was a general observation or if there was something more particular on her mind.

'Are you talking about Master Will's offer of marriage?' she ventured.

'No!' Agnes gave her a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and said in a rush, 'I was just wondering if someone had a particular grudge against Sister Ursel, that's all.'

'The nun with the barking dog?' Janna struggled to remember her name.

'Sister Catherine? That one hates everyone – and so does her dog. And I have to say, they are not well liked in return. In fact, you'd be hard put to find anyone with a kind word for her, or her dog. You see, Janna, that's exactly my point. I don't know why she stays here when she takes so little pleasure in what we do and how we live, and makes her dissatisfaction known to all.'

Janna shrugged. She was more interested in Agnes than in Sister Catherine. 'And you, Agnes?' she asked. 'Are you happy?'

Agnes flushed. 'I already told you, I am here because I love the Lord,' she said defensively.

'Yes, but are you happy?'

'I am content. That's enough.' Agnes turned and walked away. Janna stared after her, wishing she knew what to do or say that might lift her friend's spirits. But perhaps it was no more than that Agnes was in pain.

'Come to the infirmary,' she called after her. 'If you'll pick some violets for me, I'll make up a new salve for you to try.' She thought of something. 'I'll even introduce you to our new patient if you like!'

'Your handsome beau?' Agnes gave her a broad grin. The mischief on her face told Janna that this time, her smile was genuine.

A repentant Hugh awaited Janna in the cubicle off the infirmary. 'I owe you an apology,' he said, as soon as she entered. 'Sister Anne reprimanded me last night for teasing you. But I meant no disrespect by my remarks. In truth, Johanna . . .' He stretched out a hand to her.

Janna's first instinct was to grab hold of his hand and not let it go. She set down the bowl of water she carried. With a huge effort of will, she placed her hands behind her back, clasping them tight to keep her firm in her purpose.

'You are lonely and in pain, my lord,' she said. ''Tis no more than that.'

Hugh looked a little abashed, and she was sorry that her words may have hurt his feelings. Or his pride. 'Please take off your shirt, sire,' she said, hoping to ease the awkward moment by keeping busy. She brought the basin to his bedside, added some soapwort leaves to the water and frothed them up. She was about to remove Hugh's bandage when she heard a throat being cleared, and then a quiet cough. Agnes stood half-hidden behind the curtained entrance to the cubicle, clutching a handful of fragrant violets. Hugh stirred, and Janna knew that he'd seen the lay sister and the scar that marred her face. She wished now that she had warned him about Agnes. She couldn't bear it if Agnes's self-esteem sank even lower because of Hugh's reaction.

'Agnes!' She hurried forward to welcome her in.

'I . . . I've brought the flowers you wanted.' Agnes had edged right behind the curtain, out of Hugh's sight.

'Come in, please do,' he called. Janna glanced behind, relieved to see that Hugh wore a welcoming smile on his face. She stepped aside so that Agnes could see him for herself, noting how the lay sister automatically pulled up the side of her wimple as she ventured a few steps forward.

'Another healer come to visit,' Hugh said lightly. 'I am honoured to receive so much attention!'

'Agnes is my friend,' Janna said, proud that she could claim a friend in the abbey, for in truth her life had been somewhat short of friends until now.

'Sister Johanna is teaching me about herbs and about their healing properties,' Agnes said quietly. She ventured no closer to Hugh, but she didn't run away either.

'You couldn't have a better teacher,' Hugh said. 'She and her mother were known at my aunt's manor and beyond, and their skills were highly valued by all who came under their care.'

Agnes shot a surprised glance at Janna, then bobbed a quick curtsy to Hugh. 'I must go,' she said.

'My lord, would you mind if I show Agnes your wound?' Janna put out a hand to delay her friend. 'While I hope she won't ever have dagger wounds to tend here in the abbey, there might still be accidents with scythes, or knives, or pitchforks.'

Hugh smiled. 'Come and have a look,' he invited Agnes. 'I won't bite – so long as you promise not to hurt me!'

A reluctant grin twitched the corner of Agnes's mouth. Her eyes widened as she noted the hairy chest bared openly in front of her, but she moved forward to peer closely at the wound while Janna showed her first how to wash it clean and then how to medicate it. 'Have a look at this.' Janna proffered the last of the paste which she'd used to spread on the wound. As she detailed what was in it, Agnes took a good sniff of the aromatic salve.

'I wish you'd come back to my manor, Johanna,' Hugh said wistfully. 'In truth, you have far more skill than Mistress Tova and her daughter.'

Gytha and her mother would not like to hear such a judgment from Hugh, Janna reflected. 'It's better that I'm here to care for you now, sire,' she said, and proceeded to bind his wound.

She was just finishing when the sound of voices in the infirmary, coming closer, alerted her to the fact that some of Hugh's visitors from the previous day had returned and were coming their way. 'I must see to the other patients now, sire,' she said quickly, and left the cubicle, drawing Agnes after her.

'He's nice! And very handsome, Janna.' Agnes quickly averted her face as she passed Godric and Gytha. Janna stopped to greet them, hoping for an opportunity to talk to Godric on his own for once. But Gytha lingered beside them, clutching a laden basket. Her curious glance flicked from Godric to Janna, and back again. With a sigh, Janna excused herself and hurried on after Agnes.

'Your lord Hugh was kind to me,' Agnes continued, as Janna fell into step beside her once more. 'I don't have any experience with men, but he seemed like a real gentleman.'

'He is a gentleman. He's a highborn Norman.' Janna stopped beside Sister Angelica. 'Would you like me to rub your back for you today, Sister?' she asked, motioning Agnes to stay with her. It was a good opportunity for her friend to find her way around the infirmary, and learn what would be required of her, Janna reasoned.

'Yes, indeed I would.' Without being asked, Sister Angelica retreated into her cubicle and unfastened her habit.

'He also has a lovely, hairy chest,' Agnes said, as she surveyed Sister Angelica's bare, wrinkly old back.

'Who?' the old nun demanded, in a scandalised voice.

Agnes giggled. 'Janna's beau,' she said saucily.

'He is not!' Janna glared at her.

'I don't know.' Agnes still sounded amused. 'I saw how he looked at you, Janna. He . . . values you, I think.'

'Value isn't love,' Janna said tartly, thinking of Hugh's laughter when he heard Hamo's question.

'It's a good start,' Agnes said seriously.

Janna remembered Hugh's request for a goodnight kiss. Her face began to burn. She didn't want to think about Hugh as a beau. She didn't want to think about Hugh at all!

'Master Will values you too, Agnes.' Janna carefully began to massage the old nun's back. 'He loves you, you know.'

'Shh!' Agnes put a finger to her lips, then pointed at the nun lying supine on the bed in front of them.

'I might be old but I'm not blind and deaf,' the old nun snapped. 'And if you think I'm going to tell tales about you, you are wrong. There are enough sisters stirring up trouble as it is, without my adding a whole lot of rumours and lies to the stew.'

'I beg your pardon, Sister Angelica.' Agnes's tone was meek, but her eyes danced with amusement as her gaze met Janna's.

'Besides,' the old nun continued. 'It's hard living without a man. I should know, for I was once wed.' Her voice was ineffably sad as she continued. 'My husband died young. In my grief I sought refuge here and took my vows. And lived to regret it, I might say, when I realised what I'd done,' she added, her tone now sharp as a wasp's sting. 'I'd thought life would be peaceful, here in the abbey. I little knew that I would live out my days surrounded by gossiping women, some of whom would do better service to the Lord if they held their tongues and paid more attention to the love and charity they profess but don't often practise!'

Janna and Agnes exchanged glances. 'Why did you not leave the abbey when you realised your mistake?' Agnes was the first to speak.

'Because I had taken my vows, child. Not for anything would I break a vow freely given to our Lord Jesus Christ.'

'Oh.' Agnes bent her head and watched intently the pattern of Janna's hands moving across the old nun's back. But Janna had seen the light die in her eyes, and reckoned she knew the cause of it. Her heart felt heavy for her friend. In spite of the bailiff's high hopes and easy dismissal of any potential problems, she knew that Agnes, too, would honour the vows she had made, even if it was at the expense of her own happiness.

Once Janna had finished ministering to all the patients in the infirmary, Agnes slipped away and Janna went back to Hugh. She could hear his voice. He was giving instructions to Godric who, she saw as she entered the cubicle, was nodding seriously in return. Gytha stood beside the bed, dangling her basket, which was now empty. There was a pie set on a small table beside Hugh, and some fruit pastries and honey wafers. 'You may take these to your kitchen,' she said graciously, when she saw Janna. 'These are for my lord, whensoever he might request them.'

'It's kind of you to bring them in, Gytha, but truly, I do not need any extra food here. The nuns are feeding me very well.' Hugh sounded weary as he broke off speaking to Godric to address her.