"Why did you tell my father you had had her already?" Isleen demanded. "I thought you said she escaped, thanks to her serf."

"She did, but I knew your father would be reluctant to take any action unless I claimed to have despoiled the girl. I knew if I told him that it was a fait accompli, he would send to the bishop. The bishop, until he can prove the truth of my charges one way or another, will not allow Eleanore de Montfort to take her final vows. My claim alone may be enough to have her exiled from the safety of her convent. But if it is not, certainly the king will rule in my favor based on my testimony. Remember, I have watched her bathe. I can describe in detail the flaws and perfections of her body if I am called upon to do so. Only a lover would know such a thing, my pretty." He thrust against her.

"You have puzzled this all out quite carefully," Isleen said thoughtfully.

"I want Eleanore de Montfort, and I want Ashlin," Saer de Bude said. "And I shall have them!" He thrust again, and yet again.

"Am I a fool to trust you, Saer?" Isleen asked him. He was the most exciting man she had ever known. There was something dangerous about him that thrilled her. "Mmmmmmmm," she murmured as he drove them to a pinnacle. "Ahhhhhhhhh!"

"You must decide that for yourself, my pretty," he taunted her, withdrawing from her body and setting her down again on shaky legs.

"You are the devil himself, I am sure of it," she said low.

Saer de Bude laughed. "Perhaps I am, Isleen. After all, who but the devil would get such supreme pleasure violating a nun?" Then he was gone into the darkness of the garden, leaving Isleen alone.

She shivered. She was only just beginning to realize how treacherous and wicked Saer really was. At this moment she sensed he would betray her as easily as anyone. She did not doubt that he loved her. Of that she was sure, but of late she had noticed a certain evil aura about him that came close to frightening her. If Eleanore de Montfort gave him a son, would he be satisfied? Or would he want other legitimate children of her body? Would he fall out of love with Isleen, and in love with Eleanore? Had her mother not always said a man would love and forgive any woman as long as she gave him children? But that was one thing she could not do, Isleen thought. She must either prevent her father from finding her another husband, or she must kill off her bridegroom as quickly as possible so she could go to Saer and make certain he rid himself of his pious little nun. She would not be cheated of her lover. Not this time!

The Bishop of Worcester received Baron Hugh’s communication, read it with raised brow, and sent a messenger off to St. Frideswide’s Convent posthaste with a letter for the abbess that forbade Eleanore de Montfort to take her final vows until the charges leveled by Baron Hugh and his nephew, Saer de Bude, could be reconciled or disproved.

Reading the bishop’s message, the abbess angrily threw down the parchment scroll. "Hellfire and damnation!" she swore softly, then crossed herself in a gesture of penance. Poor Eleanore! She was only just beginning to recover from the unpleasantness she had encountered. The abbess was no fool, and she knew immediately that it was the manor of Ashlin that was at the center of this devilment. According to Eleanore, her attacker was a landless knight. His attack on the girl had been to ruin her so she would be unfit for the convent. She would have had to wed him, and the manor would have been his. Now he and his uncle were attempting to gain by slander what they had been unable to gain by violence. "They should have their tongues cut out," the abbess muttered.

Calling a novice to her, the abbess sent for Sister Columba. She and Isabeaux St. Simon had been Eleanore’s best friends since they were little girls. Isabeaux, however, had left St. Frideswide’s two weeks ago to return home for her long-planned marriage. Sister Columba would have to do.

The young nun arrived quickly, and bowed to her superior. "Yes, Reverend Mother? How may I serve you?"

"Sit down, my daughter," the abbess said, and then explained the situation.

"Oh, how wicked!" Sister Columba cried. "This will break Elf’s heart, Reverend Mother!"

"That is why I have told you, my daughter. You must help to convince Eleanore that everything that happens, happens for a purpose. I shall speak to her first, but you will remain while I do."

Elf was sent for, and when she came and was told of the charges leveled by Baron Hugh and his nephew, she burst into tears. "But I am a virgin, Reverend Mother! I am! To He about such a thing under the circumstances would place my immortal soul in jeopardy!"

"I believe you, my child," the abbess said, "but the bishop does not know you, and he will want more than just your word to prove your innocence. Sister Winifred will have to examine you. Once that is done, there can be no doubt as to the truth of the matter."

"Examine me? " Elf’s voice quavered. "How? "

"She will insert a finger within your female sheath to determine that your maidenhead is still there intact. It will not hurt, and will take but a minute or so," the abbess said, her face devoid of any emotion.

Elf paled, and Sister Columba gasped.

"We will do it now so you have no time to worry yourself into a swoon awaiting this terrible examination," the abbess said gently. She arose from her seat of office where she had been sitting. "Come," she said. "You, too, Sister Columba. You will hold your friend’s hand to give her courage."

The trio departed the chapter house and walked across the cloister to the infirmary. Entering it, the abbess explained the situation to Sister Winifred, who nodded serenely and instructed Elf to lie upon her examining table. The infirmarian brought a basin of water, and washed her hands carefully. Then looking at Sister Columba, she said, "Draw up her skirts, and you, Eleanore de Montfort, raise your legs and open them, keeping your feet upon the table."

"I am afraid," Elf said.

"There is nothing to fear," Sister Winifred said briskly. "Mind carefully what I do, child, for one day you are going to take my place, and may need to conduct just such an examination. Now then, let us begin." The nun dipped her finger in a pot of heavy oil, and gently began to insert it into the girl’s body.

With a little cry, Elf fainted.

" 'Tis better this way," Sister Winifred said. "She is more relaxed now." Her brow furrowed in concentration, then she withdrew her finger, washing her hands again. "Pull down her skirts, Sister Columba, and burn a feather beneath her nose to revive her." The infirmarian turned to the abbess. "She is a virgin without any doubt, Reverend Mother. My finger is the first thing to ever penetrate the child. Her maidenhead is intact and most tightly lodged. She has not been tampered with in any way. Her accusers lie. I swear it on the body of our dear Lord himself."

"Thank you," the abbess said. "I had no doubts myself, but the bishop would want more than just the girl’s word. He cannot doubt the veracity of this convent’s infirmarian, however."

Elf had been revived and helped off the examining table by her friend. "What will happen now?" she asked.

"I will send a letter to the bishop attesting to our findings, but until he gives you his permission, you cannot take your final vows," the abbess said. "I will also send the testimony of Arthur in your behalf, explaining he is in sanctuary here because of the incident, and he will swear on his soul that Saer de Bude, while attempting to rape you, did not succeed. It will be enough. Perhaps by Martinmas you will be able to take your final vows, my child."

"I must be content with that, then," Elf replied.

Several weeks later the bishop sent a message to the abbess of St. Frideswide’s Convent. The testimony of Sister Winifred, and the sworn denial of Eleanore de Montfort that no sexual encounter had taken place, were now enough to satisfy him. However, he had been instructed by the king to command Eleanore de Montfort and the abbess of St. Frideswide’s to come to Worcester on St. Andrew’s Day. The king would be visiting the bishop, and wished to decide the matter of Eleanore de Montfort himself.

For the first time in her life, Elf seriously lost her temper. "Is there no end to this man’s perfidy? Does he think the king can force me into marriage with him? I would rather die before I would wed any man! It is impossible! I hope he will grow a wart on the very end of his nose that will spoil his handsome face!"

The abbess bit her lip to restrain her laughter. "My child," she said, "you must not wish evil on any man, especially Saer de Bude. It is obvious God created him without any sense, and surely that is enough of a burden for the man." She patted Elf’s hand. "We shall go to Worcester on St. Andrew’s Day, and straighten this matter out. You can ask the king to pardon Arthur so he may go home to Ashlin."

Elf nodded. "I am ashamed at my outburst."

"My daughter," the abbess said, "you seek to become a nun, but you are a human being. Mayhap someday you can aspire to sainthood, but the majority of us are just simple women. We are subject to the same human frailties as are any women. It is not wrong to experience righteous anger, Eleanore. Just do not hold a grudge. I worry that you strive too hard for mortal perfection, when it is the perfection of your immortal soul that is more important."