with Beatrice,” Berthild said when told of the woman’s death.
“That is very good of you. Go tell Gretle. I will be with you shortly.”
Juliana headed for the garden to await Robert. Why hadn’t the letters, especially the epistle of Saint Peter, been broadcast already? Would not many Beguine lives have been saved and made easier if the saint’s true opinions about the priesthood had been known? Perhaps. And perhaps greater disagreements would occur because of Saint Peter’s contradictory writings about the place of women in the church. Yes, she decided, finishing her gruesome chore, Sister Angelina had been right to keep the letters hidden. She would follow that example, safeguarding the letters for a time when they could do the most good.
• • •
“You wanted to speak with me, Lady Juliana?”
Would she tell him what was hidden behind those bricks he watched her move? Would the Beguine still live if he had not paused to observe Juliana’s odd activity? Nay, Juliana assured him that was not possible.
Waving a hummingbird aside—the creatures seemed to be everywhere—Robert strode into the gardens, a frown on his face. Much of the reason for the frown ambled along behind him.
Hassen’s smile dimmed when he spied her. “I hear you have lost a friend just as you found her.”
“Thank you for your understanding, Sayyid Hassen. Yes, Sir Robert. I wish to discuss what we must do to be able to remain in this house.”
“Nothing must be done. The house is too vulnerable to inhabit.”
“I must agree with Baron Ravensmere.”
Robert winced. Somehow the weasel had discovered how much Robert disliked his title, and the man never failed to seek an opportunity to use the rank.
“That is too bad. Sir Robert, a way must be found to make this place habitable. Beatrice will be holding vigil over Angelina’s body for the next three days, and the body cannot be moved before then. After the burial, we will be cleaning this place and resuming the normal duties of the Beguines in Palermo.”
“You can’t…”
She raised her palm outward. “Hear me out. I can and I will use this building to restore the Palermo beguinage for the simple reason that we cannot afford another, and since we must be here for at least three days, we might as well remain. What coin we have must be used to purchase building supplies and other necessities for making this ruin into a home.”
“’Tis foolishness to remain here.”
“I have available properties that would suit you better than this one,” the weasel said.
“Thank you, Sayyid Hassen, but we Beguines do not own those buildings, and we do own this one. Making this building livable will cost us only time and effort.”
“You are determined on this course?” Robert asked.
“I am.”
“There is nothing I can say to convince you to change your mind?” Hassen queried.
“Nothing.”
Robert frowned more. “And you have not forgotten your promise to return to England with me?”
“I have not forgotten.”
“Since you are determined, I will endeavor to provide for the building’s safety before we depart for England.”
“You do not intend to remain in Palermo, daughter of England?” the weasel asked, puzzlement clouding his face.
“’Tis a matter between myself and Sir Robert. You need not concern yourself. Whether I stay or go, the beguinage will be here.”
“Oh, well then, let us discuss how best to return this house to its former state and keep you safe while that is being done. I know many merchants in Palermo and could persuade them to deal very fairly with you, despite the discontent of the weavers. In fact, we may be able to use the rebuilding of your community as a way to placate that guild. And, with your permission, baron, I will send guards of my own to assist you until the walls can be rebuilt.”
Those guards could attack as well as protect—which did the man intend? Robert studied the merchant’s sharp features but could find no
“That is very good of you. Go tell Gretle. I will be with you shortly.”
Juliana headed for the garden to await Robert. Why hadn’t the letters, especially the epistle of Saint Peter, been broadcast already? Would not many Beguine lives have been saved and made easier if the saint’s true opinions about the priesthood had been known? Perhaps. And perhaps greater disagreements would occur because of Saint Peter’s contradictory writings about the place of women in the church. Yes, she decided, finishing her gruesome chore, Sister Angelina had been right to keep the letters hidden. She would follow that example, safeguarding the letters for a time when they could do the most good.
• • •
“You wanted to speak with me, Lady Juliana?”
Would she tell him what was hidden behind those bricks he watched her move? Would the Beguine still live if he had not paused to observe Juliana’s odd activity? Nay, Juliana assured him that was not possible.
Waving a hummingbird aside—the creatures seemed to be everywhere—Robert strode into the gardens, a frown on his face. Much of the reason for the frown ambled along behind him.
Hassen’s smile dimmed when he spied her. “I hear you have lost a friend just as you found her.”
“Thank you for your understanding, Sayyid Hassen. Yes, Sir Robert. I wish to discuss what we must do to be able to remain in this house.”
“Nothing must be done. The house is too vulnerable to inhabit.”
“I must agree with Baron Ravensmere.”
Robert winced. Somehow the weasel had discovered how much Robert disliked his title, and the man never failed to seek an opportunity to use the rank.
“That is too bad. Sir Robert, a way must be found to make this place habitable. Beatrice will be holding vigil over Angelina’s body for the next three days, and the body cannot be moved before then. After the burial, we will be cleaning this place and resuming the normal duties of the Beguines in Palermo.”
“You can’t…”
She raised her palm outward. “Hear me out. I can and I will use this building to restore the Palermo beguinage for the simple reason that we cannot afford another, and since we must be here for at least three days, we might as well remain. What coin we have must be used to purchase building supplies and other necessities for making this ruin into a home.”
“’Tis foolishness to remain here.”
“I have available properties that would suit you better than this one,” the weasel said.
“Thank you, Sayyid Hassen, but we Beguines do not own those buildings, and we do own this one. Making this building livable will cost us only time and effort.”
“You are determined on this course?” Robert asked.
“I am.”
“There is nothing I can say to convince you to change your mind?” Hassen queried.
“Nothing.”
Robert frowned more. “And you have not forgotten your promise to return to England with me?”
“I have not forgotten.”
“Since you are determined, I will endeavor to provide for the building’s safety before we depart for England.”
“You do not intend to remain in Palermo, daughter of England?” the weasel asked, puzzlement clouding his face.
“’Tis a matter between myself and Sir Robert. You need not concern yourself. Whether I stay or go, the beguinage will be here.”
“Oh, well then, let us discuss how best to return this house to its former state and keep you safe while that is being done. I know many merchants in Palermo and could persuade them to deal very fairly with you, despite the discontent of the weavers. In fact, we may be able to use the rebuilding of your community as a way to placate that guild. And, with your permission, baron, I will send guards of my own to assist you until the walls can be rebuilt.”
Those guards could attack as well as protect—which did the man intend? Robert studied the merchant’s sharp features but could find no
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