Bertrice Small - The Innocent

Reverend Mother Eunice hesitated but a second. "Yes," she said, "Arthur of Ashlin did indeed ask me for sanctuary, which I granted." She would not have believed Eleanore de Montfort, so meek and mild a girl, could lie with such facility. Still, she had not asked for the abbess’s confirmation of her tale, only that the abbess had been asked for and had given sanctuary. That the rest would be assumed was not her fault.

And indeed it was assumed. "The serf, Arthur of Ashlin, is hereby granted my pardon for any wrongdoing that may or may not have occurred," the king said with finality. "It will be written up for you to carry with you tomorrow." Then King Stephen swung his gaze to Saer de Bude. "You are a good knight, Saer de Bude, but you need more polishing, it is obvious. I am sending you to my brother’s court in Blois. You will remain in the count’s service until you are told otherwise. My brother’s court is an elegant and refined one, and I urge you to learn all you can from being there. You will leave tonight, and you will carry several messages for me to my brother. May good fortune go with you."

Saer de Bude bowed to the king. There was no use in arguing unless he was seeking to have his life shortened considerably. While he loved Isleen, there was no sense in getting himself killed over her. There were plenty of other women in the world upon whom he might dote. He bowed low. "I thank you for your kindness, my lord king." Then he stepped back into the crowd in the hall, seeking some male friends with whom he might pass the time until he was summoned to leave. He did not bother to bid farewell to his uncle, who had not been particularly helpful to him this day. If the king had imprisoned him for his attempted assault he was quite certain that his uncle would have remained silent.

"Now, Baron Hugh," the king spoke again, "there is the matter of your daughter. It has come to my ears that Richard de Montfort sickened suspiciously and died. While nothing can be proven against your daughter, there are suspicions, particularly given her carnal liaison with her cousin. Do not deny it, my lord, for there were many who saw them, though they either did not know, or care; yet it is suspected that your late son-in-law, Richard de Montfort, was poisoned by person or persons unknown. But as your daughter and her cousin were the only ones close to Richard de Montfort-as no servant had a grievance against the lord-it is possible that it is your daughter who poisoned her husband. This being the case, I forbid you to make any match for Isleen de Warenne. Incarcerate her in a cloister, and keep her there for the rest of her days, Baron Hugh. She is a dangerous woman."

"My lord," Hugh de Warenne protested, "you have no proof that my daughter would do such a terrible thing. What reason would she have? She loved Richard."

"Your daughter was barren after nine years of marriage. Richard de Montfort had at least three bastards born to female serfs belonging to him. Your daughter may have known and become angry and embittered. She loved her cousin. She might think to kill her husband, have her cousin debauch his sister, the rightful heiress, so the girl would have to marry her rapist. Then, when the time was right, Lady Isleen might kill off the innocent so she could marry her cousin, and together they would share Ashlin."

Hugh de Warenne blustered, "My lord, that is a preposterous tale! You have not one shred of proof against my daughter and Saer de Bude."

"I have enough proof, my lord," the king said icily. "Cedric of Ashlin, come forward and give your testimony."

Ashlin’s steward came slowly forward, awed to be in such grand company, but determined to make certain his mistress was safe from Saer de Bude and his family. "I am here, my lord king," the old man said, and he bowed low to King Stephen.

"Shall the steward give his testimony, Hugh de Warenne, or will you cease your carping and do as I have commanded?" the king asked.

"I will obey, my lord," Baron Hugh said, silently damning his daughter to hell. He was going to find the most remote and harshest cloister and see Isleen put away forever! His family had come close to ruin today, and all because of the lewd, murderous bitch.

"Go, then," the king said, "and carry out my will."

Hugh de Warenne bowed, and backed from the king’s sight.

"Now," the king said to the steward, "will you pledge for yourself, and all of Ashlin’s folk, that you will be loyal to Lord Ranulf, Cedric of Ashlin? Will you accept him as your new master?"

"Right gladly, my lord, as long as he takes care of our lady Eleanore," the steward replied boldly.

"I will take great care of her," Ranulf de Glandeville said.

"Then, we will serve you loyally and with devotion, my lord," Cedric replied, and he bowed to his master.

"It is settled, then," the king said. "The marriage will take place tomorrow immediately preceding the morning Mass."

When they had departed the bishop’s hall, Elf turned to her steward. "How did you come to be here, Cedric? I did not give you permission to leave Ashlin."

"I had to come, my lady, and I hope you will forgive me, but your old Ida would not rest easy unless we could all be certain that Saer de Bude did not slander you further or force you into a marriage you didn't desire. We could not serve such a man, although for love of you we would have. Forgive me, my lady."

"But how did you gain the king’s ear?" Elf asked him.

"I simply told the bishop’s porter that I had important information for the king regarding a case to be heard today. The porter passed me on to the bishop’s seneschal, who gained the king’s ear for me. I told him everything we had seen and heard in Lord Richard’s last months. She never noticed us as she pursued her evil desires. There was nothing we could do to stop her, for we are serfs. We would have been punished for uttering our suspicions. Ida thinks it was the sugared almonds she was always feeding the lord. But we heard enough to be certain that she killed our dear lord. I thought the king should know before making any decision in this matter. I am glad, my lady, that you will be coming home to Ashlin, where you truly belong," Cedric finished.

"You will stay with me tonight, steward," Ranulf de Glandeville said to Cedric. "Your mistress must go now to prepare for our wedding." He turned to Elf, taking her hand again. "Lady, you need have no fear of me. You have been gently bred. I will respect your wishes in all matters, for I would that ours be a happy union."

Elf looked shyly up at him. "You are so big."

"And you so petite, lady," he responded with a small smile.

"I fear I shall not be a good wife."

"You were a most gracious hostess that night I stayed at Ashlin, my lady Eleanore. While your sister-in-law looked to her lover, you saw to my meal and to my sleeping accommodation. I think you will be a very good wife."

"But I do not know how to do so many things. It is a simple task to say, bring the lord a plate of food. But what happens when I must decide what food the cook is to prepare?"

"Cedric will help you, will you not, steward?" Ranulf de Glandeville said, his gaze going to the older man.

"Indeed, my lord, and cook will help the lady, and we all will aid her, for we are so glad she is coming home again," Cedric said.

"So, my lady Eleanore," her husband-to-be said, kissing her small hand and causing her to blush before he released it, "you will in due time become an excellent chatelaine."

They had reached the door of the bishop’s guest house.

"We will leave you now, my lord," the abbess said. "If Eleanore is to be a bride tomorrow, we must go into the market and the shops to see what garments we can obtain for her."

"The lady Eleanore, Reverend Mother, will be beautiful in whatever she is clothed, I am certain." Then he flushed. " I am no courtier with words, I fear." He bowed to the four women, and with Cedric in tow hurried off.

"For a man who is no courtier, he does quite well with words," the abbess said with a small smile. "I like him."

THE BRIDE
ENGLAND 1152-1153

“You honor my shop, Reverend Mother," the clothier said ashe ushered the nuns onto his premises. "How may I be of service to you? I have some fine black wool just in from France."

"Do you have a gown that might serve for a bride, Master Albert?" the abbess asked. "My young novice recently became an heiress on her brother’s death. The king and the bishop prefer that she wed one of King Stephen’s knights, rather than take her final vows. The king and the bishop desire the wedding be celebrated on the morrow. As you will understand, the lady has nothing but her habit. She cannot be wed in that now, can she?" Mother Eunice smiled hopefully.

"Oh, dear," the clothier replied, his brow furrowing in distress. Then he brightened. "My daughter is being wed in two months' time. Let me call my wife and see if we might not take something from among Cecily’s wardrobe that might suit your young lady." He went to the stairs of his shop, and called up, "Martha, come down, for I need your help."

The lady in question descended and, when told of the problem, was immediately sympathetic. "Of course we can help," she noted. "No lady should be wed looking like a little gray dove."

"I have funds from the bishop to pay you," the abbess said.