Unending Love (30 page)

The only place that seemed like a safe haven to
her now, a place that was closer to Maddoc’s soul than any other, was a
convent. It was a place closer to God and, subsequently, closer to heaven than
anywhere else she could think of.  Once, she had wanted to join the cloister
because she would not marry the man she loved.  Now, she wanted to join for the
same reason.   But in order to commit herself, she would have to escape Arundel
and Brighton, and she knew that would not be a simple thing.

Oh, God
, she moaned inwardly, laying her head on the
bended knees that were clutched against her chest,
please forgive me for
what I did to Maddoc.  Please embrace him within your bosom, O Lord, until such
time as we can be reunited again.  My love for the man is unending and
timeless, and it is stronger than the cold fingers of Death.  We will be together
again, someday
.  She had prayed that prayer many times over the several
days, usually accompanied by sobs.  Today was no different. But as she prayed
the prayer, the only thing that brought her any measure of comfort, there was a
soft knock on the door.

Adalind’s head popped up, her eyes narrowing. 
She looked around the room, quickly, noting that there was nothing left for her
to throw unless she wanted to toss tables and chairs.  She had exhausted her
ammunition supply within the first hour of her arrival.  Gearing up for another
fight, she balled her bruised hands and didn’t say a word as the knock came
again.  After a lengthy pause, the door slowly creaked open.

A small woman with a tightly wimpled head and
big brown eyes peered into the dim room.  She had evidently been warned about
Adalind because the only thing visible was her head.  She wasn’t about to step
into the room.  After a moment, she spied Adalind huddled up in the corner
against the wall, rolled up into a protective ball.  The woman smiled timidly.

“Lady Adalind?” she said in a very soft and
sweet voice. “I am the Lady Isabelle, Countess of Norfolk.  I promise I have
not come to hurt you in any way. I have simply come to make sure you are taken
care of.  May I please enter?”

Adalind gazed at the woman a moment longer
before turning away. She didn’t want to look at her and she didn’t want to talk
to her.  But she stayed huddled up in her protective ball and that was
evidently good enough for Lady Isabelle.  As long as the Lady Adalind wasn’t
charging, she would be brave and enter the room.

There were a pair of female servants behind Lady
Isabelle and when Adalind caught sight of them out of the corner of her eye,
she rolled to her knees, preparing for some manner of a physical confrontation
because it appeared to her as if Lady Isabelle was bringing reinforcements. 
When Lady Isabelle saw Adalind’s reaction, she held out a swift hand to the
women behind her, ordering them to stop in their tracks.  They did.

“My lady,” Isabelle said calmly, soothingly.  “I
assure you, we will not harm you. We have brought food and clothing and warm
water for you to bathe in.  I promise I only wish to help you and I swear no
one will hurt you. Will you please allow us into your chamber?”

Adalind wasn’t ready for any human contact.  She
growled as she spoke. “Get
out
!” she snarled. “You are not welcome here.
Get out and leave me alone!”

The servants cowered but Lady Isabelle remained
strong, at least for the moment. “My lady, I understand you have been through
some very trying times,” she said. “I do not wish to aggravate or harass you –
I swear I only want to help.  Will you please let me?”

“Nay!” Adalind barked. “Get out before I throw
you out!”

Isabelle studied the woman, looking like a wild
animal in her torn and stained clothing, her long blond hair dirty and askew. 
But she also noted her face and she could see that the Lady Adalind was a truly
beautiful woman underneath the dirt and snarling.   She could also see just how
shattered the woman was.  She began to feel a tremendous amount of pity for
her.

“My lady,” Isabelle tried again. “My husband has
ordered Sir Brighton to return you to Canterbury.  You cannot go home in rags
and dirt.  Will you please allow me to clean you up so you can be returned home
looking as a daughter of de Lohr should?”

That gently uttered statement seemed to suck all
of the fight out of Adalind.  She stared at Isabelle, her features pale with
shock.  For the first time in weeks, the wild and frightened animal subsided.

“Home?” she repeated. “I… I am going home?”

Isabelle smiled timidly. “Aye,” she said. “May I
help you prepare?”

Adalind was truly astonished. She stood up,
unsteadily, her eyes wide on Isabelle. “Where… where is Brighton?”

“He is with my husband.”

“Will he punish him?”

“I do not know, my lady.  That is for my husband
to decide.”

“I will not see him again?”

“I do not know, my lady, but if I have any say
in the matter, he will be kept from you.”

“When can I return home?”

“I am not for certain, but it will be soon.  Will
you let me help you now?”

Adalind stood there a moment, dazed as she
reflected upon Lady Isabelle’s words, before finally nodding her agreement. 
The lure of getting away from Brighton, for the moment, blurred all else in her
mind. Her nod was brief but enough to send Isabelle into action.  Soon, the
woman was barking orders like a commander as the small army of servants she
brought with her swung into action.

Adalind ended up in the corner again, watching
the activity with anxiety.  Isabelle went to her and spoke softly enough,
sweetly enough, so that Adalind calmed somewhat and Isabelle was able to put
her arm around her to comfort her.  She stood there and held her, explaining
the actions of the servants as if she was explaining the situation to a small
and frightened child.

Adalind let the woman comfort her. In truth, she
needed it.  The warmth of human contact was not to be underestimated
[J53]
 
and it was the first time in three weeks that
she felt safe.  She was exhausted, emotional, and hungry, and Isabelle must
have sensed her immediate needs because she directed two servants bearing trays
to set them down on the table near the small lancet window. 

There was a pitcher of wine, bread, cheese,
fruit, and a big trencher that contained an entire roast fowl and a steaming
bowl of boiled carrots.   As Isabelle continued to direct the servants in the
filling of a great copper tub and the building of a fire in the dark and sooty
hearth, Adalind nearly collapsed into one of the chairs and began tearing at
the food. 

As she stuffed food into her mouth, she began to
notice that some of the servants were passing through a small and hidden
doorway that was built in next to the hearth.  It was a servant’s passage, not
unusual in
[J54]
 
fine
houses
[J55]
 
that usually led to a kitchen or other service
part of the structure.  She hadn’t noticed the door before because it blended
seamlessly into the wall, but she was coming to think that perhaps she could
use it to escape.  The main door into the room was bolted and locked, but it
was quite possible this one was not.  She tried not to pay too much attention
to it, fearful that Isabelle or someone else might catch on that she had
noticed it.

When can I return home?
She had asked. 
Isabelle had not provided a satisfactory answer and Adalind had no intention of
remaining at Arundel any longer.  She had to get out, to find a nunnery
somewhere, somehow, that would accept her pledge. There was no use in returning
to Canterbury because there was nothing left for her there.  She knew they had
already buried Maddoc, as it had been weeks since his death, and the thought
that she had been unable to attend his funeral brought instant tears.  Her
chewing slowed as tears coursed down her cheeks, and Isabelle happened to
notice.

“Oh, my lady,” Isabelle sighed, going to Adalind
and putting her hands on her shoulders to comfort her. Then she looked up at
the servants milling about in the room. “Everyone get out! Get out now!”

The servants made all haste for the door,
including those bearing hot water for the tub, but Isabelle yelled at those men
to deposit their load before leaving.  Water was dumped and people scattered,
eventually leaving Isabelle alone with Adalind and a lone remaining serving
woman who was cleaning up the splashed water on the floor.  When the door
finally shut, the room was suddenly still and quiet.  Isabelle turned to
Adalind.

“Now, my lady,” she said kindly. “Let us strip
you of your soiled clothing and wash the dirt from your skin. You will feel
better when you are clean again.”

Adalind’s tears for Maddoc had faded and her
focus had returned to the servant’s door. She wasn’t thinking about anything
else; food, bath, or rest. All she could think of was slipping from that door
and losing herself in the maze of Arundel Castle, finding a way to escape the
towering walls that were boxing her in. 

Weeks of travel, of chaos, had shaken her
usually steady mind. Grief had further shattered it.  She was thinking the
thoughts of a desperate person as if she couldn’t comprehend anything else. 
She wanted out.  But in order to accomplish that, she had to rid herself of
Lady Isabelle and the servant woman.  She had to be clever. Sensing the woman
was already very sympathetic towards her situation, she knew she had to exploit
that.  Not usually sly or conniving, Adalind dug down deep to find the
necessary trait. 

 “I… I am not feeling very well,” she lied. “I
realize you have gone to some trouble to bring a bath, but I cannot… I simply
want to lie down.  I do not wish to bathe now.”

Isabelle wasn’t entirely unsympathetic. “I
understand you are pushed beyond your limit,” she said. “I promise we will make
quick work of your bath and you will feel much better when we are finished.”

Adalind shook her head.  “Nay,” she insisted
weakly. “Please let me rest for a time and then I will submit to your
attention. I simply do not feel strong enough now.”

Isabelle was indecisive but she didn’t want to
push her.  It was the first time since Adalind had arrived at Arundel that she
wasn’t screaming or throwing things, so she didn’t want to pressure the woman
back into her animalistic behavior.  Therefore, she graciously backed down.

“As you say, my lady,” she said. “We will return
before the evening meal and perhaps you will feel better then.”

Adalind kept her gaze averted, her dirty hair
hanging over her face. “Perhaps.”

“I shall leave the food. Perhaps you should eat
a little more and regain your strength.”

“I will try. Please leave me alone.”

Isabelle was reluctant to leave her but forced a
smile, accepting her guest’s wishes courteously.  There was something so
desperate and sorrowful about Lady Adalind, something that compelled her to
want to remain with her. Something wasn’t right with the woman, but she
honestly didn’t know what. All she knew was what her husband had told her. She
wished she could engage the lady in a calm conversation but now was not the
time. Perhaps later, after the lady rested, would be more appropriate.

Adalind sat in the chair, staring at the floor
with her hair hanging over her face, as Isabelle and the serving woman silently
quit the room.  When the door shut softly, Adalind’s head shot up, her gaze on
the closed door.  She could hear voices in the corridor outside, Lady
Isabelle’s mingled with a man’s voice.  She didn’t recognize it and assumed it
was a guard of some kind. When Lady Isabelle’s voice disappeared, Adalind
bolted up from the chair.

With great silence, she skittered across the
cold wood floor to the servant’s door.  The panel was flush against the wall
and the seams were nearly invisible, so it took Adalind a couple of pushes
against the wall before the panel finally shifted.  Another push and it swung
open.  Thrilled, Adalind peered down a set of narrow and dark stairs that lead
down into blackness. She couldn’t even see the bottom. But that didn’t matter
to her and with tremendous care, she slipped inside the door and cautiously
descended the stairs.

Adalind’s heart was racing as she came to the
bottom of the dim steps, terrified every second that she was going to come
across a servant or a soldier. The stairs dumped out into a low-ceilinged
corridor with an arched roof and Adalind paused at the base of the steps,
hearing voices off to her right and deciding that she would therefore go left. 

As she slipped down the passageway, Adalind
could see that she was in the storage area below the living level of the keep
and there were several rooms that were stacked with items she couldn’t stop to
explore.  All she knew was that she was feeling freedom in her veins, escape
from Brighton and the hell he had put her through the past seventeen days, and
an overwhelming need to break away.  She had to get out or die trying.

At the end of the corridor was a small kitchen
with a blazing fire in a brick reinforced hearth and two women moving about
their duties.  There was also a small, heavily fortified door that was cracked
open. Smoke from the malfunctioning fireplace seeped out into the yard beyond.
Adalind burst into the room and, seeing the startled women staring back at her,
rushed out through the half-opened kitchen door like a runaway horse.  The lure
of the yard beyond was too great and she couldn’t control herself.