The Merchant's Daughter (14 page)

“Have you had enough of all this hard work?” He leaned over her, blowing his breath in her face. “Not used to working from sunup to sundown, are you?”

“I rather enjoy it,” Annabel said, going back to washing the clothes before her and pretending to ignore him. Surely Beatrice would come back soon.
Hurry, Beatrice.

He snorted. “If you change your mind, I believe the lord will let you out of your forced servitude and allow you to marry me. Three years is a long time for such hard labor, especially for a delicate maiden like you.”

He began to run his hand down her arm. She jerked away from him and leapt to her feet. “Don’t touch me.” Her hand went into her pocket and closed around the handle of her knife. “I told you, I will not marry you.”

“What were you doing with the master last night, eh? The two of you alone for so long.”

“We weren’t alone. Mistress Eustacia was with us, and it’s none of your business.”

“Mistress Eustacia.” With a hand on her shoulder, he shoved her back down on her stool. He leaned down, and stroking her arm again. “Come with me to the woods tonight, and I’ll show you what a real man is like.”

“Get away from me!” Annabel raised her voice, desperately hoping someone would come and help her. Surely someone was in hearing distance.

“Bailiff.” Lord le Wyse’s voice cracked like a whip behind her.

The bailiff let go. Annabel stood and stepped away from him, her knees suddenly weak.

“What are you doing?”

“Merely speaking with the girl about her work. She’s a known slacker, shiftless and slow and — I wouldn’t trust her, my lord. Don’t allow yourself to be alone with this one, as you never know what she might do. Her family, the lot of them — “

“Come with me.” Lord le Wyse took a few steps toward the manor house, then stopped and waited for Tom to march ahead of him. The two walked away.

Annabel bit her lip against the anger, relief, and shame waging war inside. She shuddered at the way the bailiff had held her down. And what about the things he said about her? The lord already had a low opinion of her. Would he let her continue to read to him after the bailiff said she was not to be trusted?
Please, God, don’t let the bailiff turn him against me.

“Bailiff Tom, I don’t like the way you are harassing my servant.” Ranulf gave Tom his most serious glare. “You are never to touch her again. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my lord. But her family —”

“I am well aware of what they did. She has accepted the punishment for her entire family, and I don’t wish you to harass her about it.”

“Her brother promised her to me. If she were the submissive sister she ought to be — “

“Not only do I never want to see you touching my servant again, I don’t want you to go near her, and I had better not catch you trying to intimidate her. Have I made myself clear?”

“Perfectly, my lord. Forgive my weakness for the girl. I swear it will never be a problem again.” The bailiff’s gaze turned to the floor, but Ranulf caught the defiance in Tom’s eyes.

“You may go, unless you have aught else to say to me.” Ranulf fought the urge to dismiss him outright. The sight of him touching Annabel, and her cringing, was still branded on his mind.

“No, my lord.” He bowed, replaced his hat on his head, and left.

Ranulf reflected over what the bailiff had said about the girl, that she was not to be trusted. He realized his bailiff was a louse. But that wasn’t the only reason he didn’t believe what the bailiff said. After seeing her eagerness to read the Bible, her confession
that she had actually desired to read it for many years, and the sincerity in her face, Ranulf couldn’t help but think he had misjudged her.

He groaned. The last thing he wanted to do was think well of this girl, but she seemed ever before him. It seemed to be his lot in life to see her, hear her — and save her — everywhere he went. She was on his mind much more than was wise or comfortable.

But eventually this maiden would show her share of faults — maybe more than her share. Then he would cease to think of her at all.

Lord le Wyse seemed his usual morose self during the evening meal, scowling as much as usual. Some Bible reading would surely soothe him. Annabel fervently hoped he would suggest it.
Please, God.

Beatrice was serving the ale tonight, and she was extremely attentive to Lord le Wyse. She refilled his tankard so many times that he finally looked up at her and said, “Thank you, but that is enough.” Annabel would have trembled at the look he gave Beatrice, but she seemed rather encouraged than discouraged by it and smiled down at him as if he had just bestowed a great compliment.

“Yes, my lord. Is there anything I can do for you? Can I get you anything, anything at all? It would be my pleasure.” She continued beaming at him, but he didn’t even glance her way.

“No, thank you. You may sit down.” Without looking at her, he waved his hand to shoo her.

Poor Beatrice.

Bailiff Tom glanced at Annabel a few times throughout the meal, an angry look pursing his thin lips, but at least he didn’t stare at her. She could only imagine what Lord le Wyse had said to him. That thought and the bailiff’s final glance caused her to check the position of her knife.

After the servants began to leave the table and she and
Eustacia began setting the hall to rights, Lord le Wyse caught Annabel’s eye. He motioned with his hand for her to come to him.

She ceased her cleaning and hurried to her lord, dropping a curtsy.

He didn’t speak right away. In fact, he looked thoughtful, but Annabel waited, holding her breath to see what he would say. Would he blame her for the bailiff’s actions? Did he think what the priest thought, that all women were a snare? Could he believe what Bailiff Tom had said about her, that she was not to be trusted?

Lord le Wyse’s face was turned toward the fire, which illuminated his high cheekbones and his brown eye but not his hidden thoughts. His hair fell thick over his forehead, and Annabel couldn’t help noticing his beard was neatly trimmed. He looked fiercely masculine, with his firm jaw and chin.

Something about the way he turned and gazed at her made her heart beat faster. Finally, he said, “I desire reading. Will you read to me?”

“Yes, of course, my lord.” She tried not to seem too eager, but inside her heart smiled with joy.

His features relaxed in response, but the placid look was gone so quickly, she wondered if she’d imagined it.

Several servants were still milling about the room as she sat beside the fireplace in expectation. She hoped he didn’t think she was eager because she wanted to spend time with him. Another man looking at her with romantic intentions — it was the last thing she wanted. She evened out her expression before glancing up at him.

He disappeared behind the screen then returned with the Holy Writ. When she opened it and began reading, a few people stood nearby and listened, but after a few minutes they had all filed out and left. Mistress Eustacia was in the corner with her sewing, as she had been the night before. Annabel assumed she would stay there for propriety’s sake, to make sure Lord le Wyse and Annabel weren’t left alone together, which would stir up gossip.

Though Bailiff Tom had made it seem as if people already had evil thoughts about her and Lord le Wyse.

Annabel started to read, but she’d only spoken a few words when Gilbert came in and apologized for interrupting. He said he had something to ask Lord le Wyse about the castle’s foundation. Lord le Wyse stood and he and Gilbert spoke for several minutes, discussing various aspects of the construction.

Finally, Lord le Wyse came back to where Annabel had been sitting and pondering what they had read the previous night.

“Pray excuse the interruption. You may read now.”

Lord le Wyse seemed to be in a kinder mood.
Now might be a good time to pose some questions.

“May I ask you something, my lord?”

He looked at her suspiciously again.

“Forgive me, my lord. I will read, but I wanted to know if the Bible agrees with what Sir Matefrid, our priest, says. Does the Bible say we are all evil and should go about our lives with solemnity and guilt?”

He seemed to consider her question a moment. “The Bible says we have all sinned. We should all repent. But no, the Bible doesn’t constantly tell us we are evil. God says we are righteous because he is able to make us righteous. He says there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, and all who call on his name will be saved.”

These were comforting words indeed. And how wonderful to know the Bible well enough to speak of it the way Lord le Wyse spoke. He still didn’t look angry, so she asked another question.

“When we see God, do you think he will be terrifying? Does the Bible say we’ll be afraid of him? Or do you think we will see him and be glad?”

Lord le Wyse’s eyebrows drew together. “Certainly God will strike terror into some hearts. But the Bible portrays God as a loving father to his children. It says he is compassionate and slow to anger, and patient with us. I believe we will be happy to see him. The Psalms say of God, ‘May all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you.’ “

So we are supposed to rejoice!
She almost felt as if she were dreaming, it was so good to finally talk with someone about these things. “Are there descriptions of hell in the Bible, like the scene on the wall of the Glynval church?”

“There are some descriptions, but perhaps not as graphic as what I’ve seen on cathedral walls.”

How strange. The priest seemed to want to frighten everyone with condemnation. Every Sunday he accused, he berated, he terrified her into thinking God was harsh and unloving. He seemed to be trying to convince himself, as well as the whole village, that women were evil by nature and not to be trusted. But the Bible taught good news. It wasn’t all about condemnation and punishment.

“Not all priests preach like yours here.” Lord le Wyse interrupted her thoughts.

“Oh.”

“I have heard a great many uplifting and encouraging sermons, but your priest’s sermon on Sunday was neither. However, his type of sermonizing is more typical, I’m afraid.”

His eyes narrowed as he continued to study her. “You are very intelligent and educated. You surely do not want to stay in Glynval all your life, to be a servant or to marry one of these boorish village men. What is it you want?”

Annabel fidgeted with her apron. It was such a surprising thing for her lord to ask. What could she say? Could she tell him her deepest wish?

While she was still wondering how to reply, he said, “This isn’t what you were brought up to do, after all. Are you unhappy?”

“Oh, no.” She couldn’t let him think that she was ungrateful. “Mistress Eustacia is very kind to me.”

Lord le Wyse shifted in his chair. “Do you miss your home, your mother and brothers? Would you go back there if I forgave your family’s debt?”

“I — “ She felt confused. Why was he asking her this? “I do miss my home, but it is only just and fair that I am here. I want to give what I owe. After all, Jesus says we should do more than
our share, not less.” He looked at her attentively, and so after a short pause, she went on, choosing her words carefully. “You asked me what I want. What I wanted most was to read the Bible. For the past three years I’ve wanted to be a nun, to study the Holy Writ and take my vows.”

She scrutinized Lord le Wyse’s face just as he was studying hers. He might think she was hoping he would take an interest in sending her to an abbey. And perhaps, after her three years of service to him, he
would
consider helping her enter a convent.

It may have been her imagination, but his features seemed to visibly soften after she said she wanted to be a nun. He relaxed against the back of his chair, casting a shadow over his face so that she couldn’t read his expression or see if he was still studying her face.

“You want to be a nun,” he said softly. “You are aware it costs money to enter a convent. Something your family does not have.”

“No, my lord, they do not.”

Now he was undoubtedly thinking that she hoped he might send her to an abbey. She waited for him to speak again, but the silence stretched on and grew awkward. Finally Mistress Eustacia came toward them, having packed away her sewing.