fought down the impotent rage twisting inside her. Although Anne’s head was humbly bowed, she managed to look sideways at her prioress, then give her a quick wink. Eleanor wished she had Anne’s talent for humor and tranquillity in these situations.
“Indeed, my lords,” she said at last with a calm remarkable even to her own ears, “I forgot myself and do beg forgiveness.” However, she decided with grim determination, if you will not have Sister Anne, then you shall surely have someone else of my own choosing.
Adam nodded abruptly.
Sir Geoffrey was wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his cloak.
After a long moment of silence, Eleanor continued. “May I ask, my lord father, where you have imprisoned my brother?”
“In the tower by the bridge over the moat. We are holding no other prisoners so the chamber is comfortable enough. I have a guard outside his door. He cannot escape.”
“May I speak with him?”
Adam raised his eyebrows. “Whatever for, girl?” His tone was gentle.
“Does not a loving sister have the right to speak with her dear brother and offer comfort to him before the king’s justicular judges him innocent or guilty?” she replied, her tone quite meek. Her father might be willing to put honor above family feeling and thus accept the possibility of Robert’s guilt. She was not. Of course her brother might kill a man in self-defense. That she would concede. Or he could do so in the defense of an innocent victim. He would never kill out of malice, however, and, if Robert said he was innocent, he was. As far as Eleanor was concerned, it was all just that simple.
With luck, this fierce snowstorm would continue long enough to keep any messenger from being sent to the sheriff and she might yet convince her father to turn his considerable tactical skills to the defense of his son. To do so, however, she must hear the full tale from Robert as soon as possible so she might present his defense in terms her father would have to concede.
“Of course you may see him, child. I will have a soldier accompany you.”
“A soldier is unnecessary, father.” Eleanor glanced at Anne. “Brother Thomas will accompany me.”
“Robert may be your brother, but he stands accused of murder. I cannot not take the chance that he might seize you as a hostage to gain his freedom…”
Eleanor closed her eyes to control her temper. “I assure you that Brother Thomas is sufficient protection against any such thing. He has already proven his courage and resourcefulness during the dark days just after my arrival at Tyndal.”
“Robert has trained as a knight and no monk…”
“Brother Thomas is no frail ascetic,” she snapped.
For the first time this day, her father’s eyes briefly sparkled with laughter. “I had noticed that, Eleanor.”
“I do believe he and your brother have quite taken to each other, or so Brother Thomas has said to me,” Anne interjected, glancing modestly at her prioress. “There is no reason to believe the Lord Robert would hurt either one of you, and indeed he might find comfort in having a priest with him at this time.” She looked over at the baron. “And should there be any problem, my lord, I do assure you that Brother Thomas is quite capable of defending your daughter. More able, perhaps, than Father Anselm, who does appear quite slight of build, if I might be so bold to say?”
Eleanor hid her smile of delight at her friend’s clever speech.
Adam shrugged, then looked at Geoffrey, who nodded.
“Very well,” the baron said. “Go and take your monk with you but exercise due care. I do not want to lose a daughter, or her broad-shouldered priest, in addition to Geoffrey’s son.”
Eleanor knew from the warmth in her face that she was blushing at his description of Thomas but drew herself up and looked back at her father with dignity. “Thank you, my lord,” she said, then turning to Sir Geoffrey, she added, “and I would also like permission to bring comfort to
“Indeed, my lords,” she said at last with a calm remarkable even to her own ears, “I forgot myself and do beg forgiveness.” However, she decided with grim determination, if you will not have Sister Anne, then you shall surely have someone else of my own choosing.
Adam nodded abruptly.
Sir Geoffrey was wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his cloak.
After a long moment of silence, Eleanor continued. “May I ask, my lord father, where you have imprisoned my brother?”
“In the tower by the bridge over the moat. We are holding no other prisoners so the chamber is comfortable enough. I have a guard outside his door. He cannot escape.”
“May I speak with him?”
Adam raised his eyebrows. “Whatever for, girl?” His tone was gentle.
“Does not a loving sister have the right to speak with her dear brother and offer comfort to him before the king’s justicular judges him innocent or guilty?” she replied, her tone quite meek. Her father might be willing to put honor above family feeling and thus accept the possibility of Robert’s guilt. She was not. Of course her brother might kill a man in self-defense. That she would concede. Or he could do so in the defense of an innocent victim. He would never kill out of malice, however, and, if Robert said he was innocent, he was. As far as Eleanor was concerned, it was all just that simple.
With luck, this fierce snowstorm would continue long enough to keep any messenger from being sent to the sheriff and she might yet convince her father to turn his considerable tactical skills to the defense of his son. To do so, however, she must hear the full tale from Robert as soon as possible so she might present his defense in terms her father would have to concede.
“Of course you may see him, child. I will have a soldier accompany you.”
“A soldier is unnecessary, father.” Eleanor glanced at Anne. “Brother Thomas will accompany me.”
“Robert may be your brother, but he stands accused of murder. I cannot not take the chance that he might seize you as a hostage to gain his freedom…”
Eleanor closed her eyes to control her temper. “I assure you that Brother Thomas is sufficient protection against any such thing. He has already proven his courage and resourcefulness during the dark days just after my arrival at Tyndal.”
“Robert has trained as a knight and no monk…”
“Brother Thomas is no frail ascetic,” she snapped.
For the first time this day, her father’s eyes briefly sparkled with laughter. “I had noticed that, Eleanor.”
“I do believe he and your brother have quite taken to each other, or so Brother Thomas has said to me,” Anne interjected, glancing modestly at her prioress. “There is no reason to believe the Lord Robert would hurt either one of you, and indeed he might find comfort in having a priest with him at this time.” She looked over at the baron. “And should there be any problem, my lord, I do assure you that Brother Thomas is quite capable of defending your daughter. More able, perhaps, than Father Anselm, who does appear quite slight of build, if I might be so bold to say?”
Eleanor hid her smile of delight at her friend’s clever speech.
Adam shrugged, then looked at Geoffrey, who nodded.
“Very well,” the baron said. “Go and take your monk with you but exercise due care. I do not want to lose a daughter, or her broad-shouldered priest, in addition to Geoffrey’s son.”
Eleanor knew from the warmth in her face that she was blushing at his description of Thomas but drew herself up and looked back at her father with dignity. “Thank you, my lord,” she said, then turning to Sir Geoffrey, she added, “and I would also like permission to bring comfort to
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