The Innocent (7 page)

"Be certain you do not touch any of my belongings," Isleen said meanly. "I will know if you do."

Ida glared at the young woman, but said nothing. Her thoughts were racing, however.
Nay, I'll not touch your things, lady, but I'll be certain to make sure that nothing belonging to Ashlin has been taken by you for transport back to your home.
The old lady gathered up Elf’s few possessions, and wended her way to the solar. She found the chamber dirty and in terrible disarray. Not even setting down her small burden, Ida stamped back out into the hall and marched right up to Elf.

"My lady, you cannot stay in the solar. It is filthy and in such disorder that there is no room for you. Until it is cleaned, it is better you remain in your bed space in the hall."

"Why has the solar not been kept in order?" Elf asked her sister-in-law. Cleanliness was a watchward at the convent.

"Since Richard died, the servants will do nothing I ask," Isleen whined piteously. "Even the girl who served me has disappeared."

"I'm not surprised, but that clutter has been there longer than a day or two," Ida muttered low to her mistress.

If Elf heard, she gave no sign of it, instead saying, "Who served the lady Isleen? She is to return to her duties until my brother’s widow departs Ashlin for her own home. Only then is she freed from her obligations. She is to come at once and put the lady’s possessions in their proper places. Then the room is to be thoroughly cleaned. When that is done, I shall join my sister in the solar, and I expect to sleep there this very night. Am I understood?"

Cedric, the household steward came forward. "It will be done at once, my lady Your word is our command."

"Very good, Cedric. The lady Isleen and I shall leave the solar to you and your minions." She smiled sweetly.

Isleen could not help but be annoyed as the servants hurried to oblige their new mistress. They had never toiled as diligently for her, but, she decided, they were simply trying to get on the innocent Elf’s good side for the brief time they thought she would remain with them. When Saer was lord here, and Elf had her brief tenure as lady, they would reveal their true colors, for they were lazy and slothful creatures at heart. She was therefore astonished when she and Elf entered the solar in late afternoon to find it cleaner than she had ever known it since she came to Ashlin.

The stone floors had been scrubbed thoroughly, as had the walls. The fireplace was clean, its small chimney drawing perfectly. The two narrow and arched windows had been washed! The sunlight was shining brightly through them. The two tapestries hanging on the walls had quite obviously been beaten and brushed, for they no longer looked dusty, nor were there cobwebs hanging from them. The bed she had once shared with Richard had clean hangings, fresh, lavender-scented linens, and plump new pillows. Its feather bed had been well lofted. The two wooden chests that belonged to her had been rearranged, and were open to display her belongings all neatly set inside. A smaller painted chest that she had never seen had been placed at the foot of the bed, and Elf’s few belongings were visible.

Elf clapped her hands and laughed. "It is my mother’s chest!" she said, delighted. "I have not seen it since I left Ashlin. I always loved it because of all the animals and birds painted upon it. The chest originally belonged to my ancestress, Rowena." Her silvery glance swept the chamber. "They have done well, Isleen, haven't they? The room is well ordered now. Come, and let us tell Cedric how pleased we are." She took her sister-in-law’s soft hand.

Isleen pulled her hand away from Elf’s gentle grip. "
Tell Cedric we are pleased?
Because the servants have done their duty? It is past time they did their duty! I shall thank no one."

"Well, I shall," Elf told her. "Do you think the servants are not as distressed over Dickon’s death as we are? He was the last de Montfort who will rule here; the last of his Saxon ancestress’s long line. Ashlin’s serfs and their families have belonged to this land for hundreds of years, Isleen. They fear the future."

"This ancient line you speak of would not be broken," Isleen replied, "if you would consider marrying a man instead of locking yourself away in a convent for the rest of your days, Eleanore. Now that Richard is gone and I have no child to inherit this land, it is your duty to give up the nunnery and accept the responsibility of your inheritance. Instead, you selfishly pursue your own desires rather than accepting the obligations that God has given you."

Elf looked suddenly stricken. She had not even considered such a thing.
She would not!
"I am already a nun, Isleen."

"You have not yet taken your final vows, Eleanore. When Richard placed you at St. Frideswide's, it was because the small dowry your father had apportioned for you would not gain you a proper husband of stature who possessed his own properties. Richard discussed the matter quite thoroughly with my parents, and it was then the decision was made to put you in the convent. The nuns would take your little pittance, and be glad for it; and you would have a life of safety and contentment serving our dear Lord. Now, however, you are an heiress of respectable means. You have a small manor with livestock, a house, and serfs. This makes you a most desirable commodity for a knight of good name."

"My course in life has already been determined," Elf replied in firm tones. "I pledged myself to our Lord at the age of ten years. It was then I became a postulant. At twelve I advanced to the blessed rank of novice. In October, on St. Frideswide’s Day, I shall take my final vows and become Sister Alban. This is what I want.
It is what God wants.
You are wrong, Isleen, to try and tempt me from my chosen path. I shall not be enticed, no matter your argument."

"Very well," Isleen said. "I think you very wrong."
But, your intransigence suits me well,
Isleen thought.
I shall enjoy seeing Saer despoil your virtue, and force you to his will. You will be taught how to use your lips for more than just prayers. You will be taught how to kiss, to lick, to suck, and how to give your husband pleasure in ways you cannot even imagine, little nun. You will be taught obedience as you never learned it in your convent. And when you have given Saer a strong son and heir, I will kill you myself.

“
I shall sleep on the trundle," Elf said as they prepared for bed.

"First we must have a bath," Isleen replied. "There is the tub all ready for us by the fire. You may go first, dear sister."

Elf looked nervously at the large oaken tub. It appeared to be big enough for two people, not at all like the small modest tub they bathed in at the convent. Bending, she undid her garters, which were fastened at her knees, and rolled down her stockings, kicking off her shoes first. She drew her round-necked gray tunica off, and laid it aside, placing her long skirt atop it. Then she pinned up her braid and started to mount the steps of the tub.

Isleen shrieked. "Do you mean to bathe still clothed?" she cried to Elf. "You still have your camisa on, Eleanore."

"I was taught to bathe like this in the convent," Elf answered. "It is more modest. It is not good to flaunt one’s body shamelessly."

"You are not in the convent now," Isleen said. "Take it off so you may bathe fully. There is no one here to see you. I shall not look, I promise you, if you are so modest that you fear my gaze."

"Turn your back, then," Elf said, not of a mind to argue, and frankly curious to learn what the water would feel like on her bare skin. When Isleen had turned away from her, Elf drew the long garment off, dropping it on the floor, and stepped down into the tub. The water was scented, and hot. It felt wonderful. She sighed with the decadent pleasure of it. She would not know such luxury once she returned to the convent. Then she silently chided herself. She had lived her life very well without such delights. She would readjust perfectly well.

From his hiding place behind a tapestry, Saer de Bude had let his eyes wander over the young girl’s body as she stood naked for that brief moment. She had not the lushness of his cousin, Isleen, but she was perfectly formed for her size. He was sorely tempted to step from behind his shield and violate her now, but he restrained himself, remembering her violent reaction to his nearness the day before. No. He had to attempt to win her over, at least a little before he seduced her.

Isleen moved next to his hiding place. "Well," she whispered, "what do you think, cousin?"

"She will prove an amusing tumble," he murmured back so softly, she could barely hear him.

"Go!" she said low, and was relieved to hear the soft click of the little door behind the tapestry open and close as he departed. She turned, saying, "Are you enjoying your bath, Eleanore?"

"Oh, yes!" Elf admitted. "It is ever so much better without my camisa, but of course at the convent we must be more modest, sister."

"Oh, Eleanore, you should at least consider my earlier words," Isleen said, her tone kindly. "You are a lovely young girl, and there would be at least a dozen offers for your hand if you would but say so. My father, Baron Hugh, would be delighted to act as your guardian in such a matter. Ashlin needs you."

"God has called me," Elf said, "and to disobey his call would be wrong. Do not peck at me so, Isleen. You knew marriage was for you. I know the convent is for me, and that is an end to it."

Isleen clamped her lips together. Saer thought he could breach the girl’s defenses, but he was wrong. In the end he would have to rape her to have his way, and to have Ashlin. "Here is a warm drying cloth for you," she said. "Come forth from the tub while the water still has some warmth so I may bathe, too."

"Turn your back, then," Elf commanded her, standing, although the tub concealed her nakedness from Isleen. Taking the toweling she climbed out, wrapping the cloth about her, blushing as Isleen turned, pulled off her own camisa, and moved to encase her voluptuous nakedness in the warmth of the water. Elf dried herself, put her camisa back on, and lay down upon the trundle. When Isleen had bathed and exited the tub, she protested Elf’s decision to sleep upon the trundle.

"You are the mistress of Ashlin. The bed is yours," she insisted.

"It is a bed for a man and a woman," Elf replied. "It was my parents' marriage bed, and your marriage bed. I would be uncomfortable sleeping in it, I fear."

"Then, we will share it, silly," Isleen said.

"Nay," Elf responded. "I am content on the trundle, Isleen. God give you a good rest. Good night." And Elf quietly, but audibly began to say her prayers.

Little prude, Isleen thought to herself, and rolled onto her side, drawing the feather coverlet over her shoulders. She would have to sleep alone tonight, and the notion did not please her at all. When the little nun was fast asleep, Isleen decided, she would creep from the solar and up into the attic room, where Saer was now residing. Would he have some ripe little serf girl in his bed tonight? She hoped so! She always enjoyed it when there were three of them. She had often longed to bring one of the young, well-muscled serf lads into their bed, but Saer did not fancy that kind of a game. There were times when she thought him very difficult, but it never caused her to cease her affections. She had loved him since they were children together, for he had been in fosterage with her parents since he had been six. As the youngest of her parents' children, she had not been sent off as had her three sisters and her brother. Isleen closed her eyes, and dozed. She would awaken when she needed to, and she would go to Saer.

***

When Elf awoke, the sun was well up. At first she wasn't certain where she was, and then she realized she was in the solar. Stretching, she arose from the trundle and reached for the rest of her clothing. She was fully dressed when Ida bustled into the chamber.

"You are awake at last, child," the old woman said. "I did not awaken you because you needed your sleep. You have hardly had any proper rest since you returned home, so busy were you with your poor brother, may God assoil his good and noble soul! Come into the hall now, and break your fast, my dear lady."

"What time is it?" Elf asked, following Ida into the hall.

"Half the morning is gone," Ida said.

"Ohhh!"
Then realizing she felt much better than she had in many a day, Elf said, "Where is the lady Isleen?"

"Out riding with that cousin of hers," Ida answered. "She wanted me to awaken you so you might go with them, but I would not let them disturb your rest. You needed it more than you needed to ride with the likes of those two."

"Where is Cedric?" She sat down at the high board. "I must see to the business of restoring Isleen’s dower portion so she may return to her father’s house. He will want to arrange another marriage for her."

"You must first eat and renew your strength," Ida told her mistress in no uncertain terms. "What you put into your mouth would not satisfy a bird, lady! Have they been starving you at that convent?" She signaled the servants to bring Elf her morning meal.

"Gluttony is a grave sin, Ida," Elf replied. "We eat just what is necessary to sustain the body. I have never gone hungry at St. Frideswide's, I promise you. We cook too much food and then waste it, I fear." She bowed her head a moment in prayer, crossing herself. A round trencher of bread filled with hot oatmeal was put before her, and Elf began to spoon it up. A plate with a hard-boiled egg and a small wedge of cheese was set at her elbow, and a goblet of watered wine spiced with herbs put by her hand.

"The servants eat the leftovers, lady, for how else would they be fed but from your table, as is their right; and that which remains is given to the beggars, who frequently come to our door. These wars have not been easy on anyone, I fear, lady. Safe and secure in your convent, you do not know these things, but this is the way of the world."

"And our blessed Lord himself preached charity," Elf replied. "I stand corrected, Ida."

"Eat your breakfast," Ida said, pouring a dollop of heavy cream on her mistress’s oatmeal.

Elf laughed, but discovered she had an excellent appetite this morning. She finished her cereal, and then ate some of the bread trencher with the cheese and egg. When she had finished, draining the last drop of wine from her cup, Cedric came and stood before her, awaiting her sign to speak. She nodded at him.

He bowed politely, then said, "I have gone back over the manor records to determine the exact amount of the lady Isleen’s dower portion, and of how it was paid. It was mostly in coin, which your brother, may God assoil his good and noble soul, wisely set aside. He never touched it, and it still remains in the bag in which it came. The lady brought certain household goods and a palfrey as well. They are all carefully listed, and can be separated from that which belongs to Ashlin manor."

"How quickly can it be done, Cedric? I am certain the lady Isleen is eager to return to her own family, and I wish to rejoin my sisters at St. Frideswide's," Elf told her steward.

Cedric smiled knowingly at his young mistress. "It can be done by day’s end, lady, so that you may all depart Ashlin on the morrow. Will that be suitable, my lady?"

"That," Elf answered him with a small grin, "will be perfect, Cedric. You are a good servant, but then my mother and brother always said it was so. You have not changed over the years."

"Lady, if I may ask a question?"

She nodded.

"What is to happen to us if you return to your convent?"

"As a nun I am not permitted to own personal property," Elf told him. " I shall give Ashlin to my order. There are any number of ways in which they might make use of it. They might found another convent here; or they might lease the manor to a tenant; or they might sell the manor. That will not be my decision, but the one thing I can guarantee you is that the serfs and freedmen who have lived on these lands for centuries, and are as much a part of Ashlin as the lands itself, they will remain here. The Reverend Mother is a wise and good lady. She will allow no harm to befall any of you. On that you have my word, the pledge of Eleanore de Montfort, and you know, Cedric, that the word of a de Montfort is as good as gold."

"Thank you, my lady," the steward said. "I needed to know in order to reassure our people that no ill would befall them with your departure. But we truly wish you would stay with us."

"I cannot. It is not my fate. You may go now, Cedric, and see to the departure of my brother’s widow."

He bowed, and left her. Elf looked about the hall. There was nothing for her to accomplish. Her packing, which Ida would do, would take but a few minutes, and could be done in the morning before she departed her childhood home.
I'll go to my herbarium,
she finally decided. There were things there for her to do, and the little side garden had grown nicely since it was planted. It would be wasteful not to harvest what she could now, and take it back with her to the convent. Sister Winifred would be delighted. Elf hurried from the hall and down the garden path, waving to Arthur, who was weeding among the roses. She saw two riders coming toward the house, probably Isleen and her obnoxious cousin.

Elf chuckled. Saer de Bude had certainly given her a wide berth since their encounter by the linen cupboard. As she thought back on it, she had no idea why she had vomited her breakfast on him, for she hadn't been afraid of him. He simply revolted her, and, after all, it had been the time of the month when her link with the moon had been broken. Still, it had certainly put him off, for which she was grateful. Her tears had been those of frustration and relief. And Arthur had cheered her up as he often had when they were children and she had been frightened. She realized now that his friendship was one of the few things she had missed about Ashlin, and it would be very sorely missed again. She was giving up a great deal, she realized.

But was not sacrifice a part of the religious life? Still, was there any truth in Isleen’s contention that she was pursuing her own desires instead of accepting her obligations? After all, did not all things come of God? Eleanore de Montfort shook her head. Her very thoughts were the most disturbing she had ever known. There had never been any doubt in her mind that she was one of God’s chosen brides. Why was she even considering the possibility now that she wasn't?
The devil!
It was surely Satan tempting her! She crossed herself and entered the herbarium, noting the hearth was cold.

I will make some elixirs and salves today that I may carry with me,
Elf decided. She called to Arthur, "Go up to the house, and bring me some coals from the fire so I may start my own. Cedric will give you a pan in which you may carry them."

"At once, lady," Arthur called back, dashing off.

Elf went to her well, drew up a bucket of cool water, and brought it into her shed. She used some of it to wipe off the slate-topped table upon which she worked, then placed the bucket on the floor beneath her table, and took down from a shelf several mortars and pestles. After going out into her garden, she picked the biggest greenish yellow leaves of her lettuce plants, and brought them back into the herbarium to wash.

Elf filled a kettle and added the lettuce leaves. Boiled down and made into a syrup with honey to both thicken and sweeten it, it could be reconstituted into a soothing tea that would cure spider bites, but was also useful for bringing sleep in a manner very much like poppies.

Next she took down a sheaf of horehound leaves that had been drying for some weeks. She crumbled the leaves slightly, then added them to a mortar, and began to pestle them into a fine powder that she transferred into a stone jar. The powder would make an excellent tea, or a syrup. Horehound was known to cure jaundice, bad coughs, and was also beneficial for fading eyesight, always a problem among the convent’s elderly nuns.

"I've brought the coals, Elf. Do you want me to make the fire? I see you have one kettle ready to boil up," Arthur said as he entered the herbarium with the pan of live coals from the hall fireplace.

"Syrup of lettuce," she told him. "Yes, start the fire for me, Arthur, and then you can go back to your work. Thank you. I'll be in my garden." Outside again, Elf took up a basket. First she gathered leaves of sage, which was good for the nerves; mint, an excellent remedy for retching, stopping hiccups, and for maladies of the stomach in general; mustard greens, which were a sure cure for gout, particularly in the toes; and anise, which was used to rid a body of flatulence.