say she’s not a virgin?”
William swore again. “You’re right, Esme. The poor Lady!”
“What can we do, Will? We can’t give her back her memories. I wouldn’t even if I could. You know what she was like when you found them, her clothes were all torn and bloody. The bruises on her thighs and breasts took weeks to fade - I know, I was the one who bathed her. And to think, she wasn’t yet sixteen years old! She barely spoke a word for weeks, the poor child, and when she did, she never talked about what had happened.
“The old Lord, he thought he was doing his best for her, keeping everything a secret and marrying her off to Sir Huon as soon as possible. It would have broken his and her Lady mother’s heart to have seen Berenice married to the Count.”
“I’ll talk to Odo,” said William, “I’ll go tomorrow. Perhaps the letter hasn’t been sent yet. Perhaps it’s not too late.”
“Thanks, my love.” She kissed him. His hand moved around to her breast, and his thumb caressed her nipple. She murmured his name into their kiss. Their bodies molded together, as they had many times before. Eventually, they slept.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
William slipped out of the castle early the next day. When he returned soon after the noon hour, Esme could tell from his face the news was not good. They retreated to the upper room of his house, where they could be sure of not being overheard.
“Did you see the Abbot?” asked Esme.
“I saw him. He listened to everything I told him.”
“And?”
“It’s one of the few times I’ve seen Odo without, at the very least, a smile. I’d swear he was a shade paler by the time I’d told him the story.”
“He hadn’t known about the rape, then.”
“No. His father hadn’t told him, and he’d never queried why the wedding plans were changed.”
“The letter, Will, has he already sent the letter to the bishop?”
“Yes, it’s gone.” William sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “Berenice convinced him so completely he wrote and sent the letter with all haste. One of the brothers has already left for the bishop’s palace.”
“Can’t he stop him? Or write another letter, telling the bishop it was all a mistake?”
“No. He explained why, but I’ll admit I don’t understand it all. Church politics,” he sighed. “It seems Odo’s relationship with the bishop is cordial, but strained. If Odo retracted the letter, it could do untold damage in other ways.”
“Oh no!” Esme cried. She sank onto the bed next to William. Turning to him, she said, “Will, what about Gareth! If we could convince him to declare himself, to admit he’s the Lady’s husband…”
“What, and tell him he was duped, all those years ago? That his pure, young wife wasn’t as pure as he’d been led to believe?”
“Oh, of course. I hadn’t thought.” Esme’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Then there’s no hope.”
“Odo said the bishop may well reject the Lady’s request, and so there won’t be a problem. If he doesn’t, Odo’s promised he’ll talk to the prioress at St. Bernadette’s before Berenice goes there.”
Esme sighed, and wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron.
“He said we must wait. We have no choice.”
“We don’t, do we.”
William put an arm around Esme’s shoulders, and drew her to him.
“We’ve done everything we can, pet, for now. All we can do is wait.”
And so they waited, through the rest of June and all of July and into August, dreading the arrival of a messenger.
Throughout that long, hot summer, many people in the valley were waiting for one thing or another, just as the land waited for rain.
Jessamine constantly found ways to remind Gareth of her presence, waiting for him to succumb to her charms and come to her. Eventually she was reduced to following him around, from a distance of course, sure she’d discover her rival that
William swore again. “You’re right, Esme. The poor Lady!”
“What can we do, Will? We can’t give her back her memories. I wouldn’t even if I could. You know what she was like when you found them, her clothes were all torn and bloody. The bruises on her thighs and breasts took weeks to fade - I know, I was the one who bathed her. And to think, she wasn’t yet sixteen years old! She barely spoke a word for weeks, the poor child, and when she did, she never talked about what had happened.
“The old Lord, he thought he was doing his best for her, keeping everything a secret and marrying her off to Sir Huon as soon as possible. It would have broken his and her Lady mother’s heart to have seen Berenice married to the Count.”
“I’ll talk to Odo,” said William, “I’ll go tomorrow. Perhaps the letter hasn’t been sent yet. Perhaps it’s not too late.”
“Thanks, my love.” She kissed him. His hand moved around to her breast, and his thumb caressed her nipple. She murmured his name into their kiss. Their bodies molded together, as they had many times before. Eventually, they slept.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
William slipped out of the castle early the next day. When he returned soon after the noon hour, Esme could tell from his face the news was not good. They retreated to the upper room of his house, where they could be sure of not being overheard.
“Did you see the Abbot?” asked Esme.
“I saw him. He listened to everything I told him.”
“And?”
“It’s one of the few times I’ve seen Odo without, at the very least, a smile. I’d swear he was a shade paler by the time I’d told him the story.”
“He hadn’t known about the rape, then.”
“No. His father hadn’t told him, and he’d never queried why the wedding plans were changed.”
“The letter, Will, has he already sent the letter to the bishop?”
“Yes, it’s gone.” William sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “Berenice convinced him so completely he wrote and sent the letter with all haste. One of the brothers has already left for the bishop’s palace.”
“Can’t he stop him? Or write another letter, telling the bishop it was all a mistake?”
“No. He explained why, but I’ll admit I don’t understand it all. Church politics,” he sighed. “It seems Odo’s relationship with the bishop is cordial, but strained. If Odo retracted the letter, it could do untold damage in other ways.”
“Oh no!” Esme cried. She sank onto the bed next to William. Turning to him, she said, “Will, what about Gareth! If we could convince him to declare himself, to admit he’s the Lady’s husband…”
“What, and tell him he was duped, all those years ago? That his pure, young wife wasn’t as pure as he’d been led to believe?”
“Oh, of course. I hadn’t thought.” Esme’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Then there’s no hope.”
“Odo said the bishop may well reject the Lady’s request, and so there won’t be a problem. If he doesn’t, Odo’s promised he’ll talk to the prioress at St. Bernadette’s before Berenice goes there.”
Esme sighed, and wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron.
“He said we must wait. We have no choice.”
“We don’t, do we.”
William put an arm around Esme’s shoulders, and drew her to him.
“We’ve done everything we can, pet, for now. All we can do is wait.”
And so they waited, through the rest of June and all of July and into August, dreading the arrival of a messenger.
Throughout that long, hot summer, many people in the valley were waiting for one thing or another, just as the land waited for rain.
Jessamine constantly found ways to remind Gareth of her presence, waiting for him to succumb to her charms and come to her. Eventually she was reduced to following him around, from a distance of course, sure she’d discover her rival that
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