Understanding sharpened in Geffe’s face. He was bowing in ready agreement as Frevisse left him.
Chapter 24
Knowing there could be scant time before she would have to go to Tierce, Frevisse stayed in the guesthall kitchen only long enough to know that, despite what food and drink Abbot Gilberd had brought, there would soon be no avoiding sending someone maybe as far as Banbury to buy more because only so much could be had from the village. Domina Elisabeth would not welcome hearing that, but then, Frevisse did not welcome the thought of having to tell her, so they were even, she supposed, as she came up the outer stairs from the kitchen and saw John Rowcliffe and his son walking through the gateway from the outer yard, back from wherever they had been.
Frevisse was immediately glad she no longer had Jack’s bill of obligation as she turned to meet father and son in the middle of the guesthall yard. They both bowed to her, and she said, with a bend of her head back to them, “I thought you would care to know that Abbot Gilberd is questioning Sister Cecely again this morning. I have a question for you in turn. These deeds that she stole from you, how did she come by them?”
Rowcliffe made an irritated growl in his throat. “She told me a mouse had got at some of Guy’s papers, that part of the deed to Guy’s manor-that one that’s Edward’s now-was chewed and she wanted to see if there was a copy of it among my deeds and all. That was likely. We do that-keep copies of one thing and another in each other’s strongboxes, so if one is lost-fire or storm or mice or whatever-all isn’t lost. So I didn’t think that much on it. She came asking it one morning just as I was leaving with my wife to go to market day in Wymondham. On purpose, that was, I’ll wager. I just gave her the key to the box and told her to be sure to lock it when she was done and give my steward the key.”
“When did you know they were gone?”
Rowcliffe grimaced. “When she disappeared, and Edward with her. Right frighted we were that something had happened to them, until Symond gave up her secret. He knew more about the thieving wench than we’d ever guessed and said that if she was gone, she wasn’t gone empty-handed. That’s when I found the two deeds were gone with her.”
“And they’re why you came after her.”
“For Edward, too. I don’t want to leave the little mite to her. No telling who she’d sell him to. Well, James Breredon, plainly, but that’s no help to me. Better he be with family.”
“How does he?” Jack asked. “When I talked with him, he said he was well enough, but is he?”
“He and Mistress Petham seem happy in each other’s company,” Frevisse said.
“You’re keeping him away from that mother of his?” Rowcliffe demanded. “She’s poison, she is.”
Frevisse hid her thought that there it was again-poison and Sister Cecely together in the same breath-and said, “We’re presently keeping Sister Cecely away from everyone, except now she’s with Abbot Gilberd and Domina Elisabeth.”
“Just so they remember to find out what she’s done with my deeds,” Rowcliffe grumbled.
“She hid them with Edward,” Frevisse said and slipped them from her sleeve. “I don’t know that he knew for certain what they were, but he knew they aren’t his mother’s, and he gave them to me.” She held them out. “Here they are.”
Rowcliffe gaped at her, while something like smothered fear started up in Jack Rowcliffe’s face and did not fade until his father had gathered his wits, took the deeds from Frevisse, and opened them. Jack could see then they were only the deeds, no damning bill of obligation with them, and he exclaimed, “That’s them! We’ve got them back!”
“We do, indeed,” John Rowcliffe said, his eyes fixed on the parchment and satisfaction rich in his voice. “There’s a world of trouble saved.” More than satisfaction: naked relief. Glowing with it, he looked at Frevisse. “I owe you much for this. Is there aught I can do for your priory in return?”
Frevisse had been going to prompt him to that thought. To have him come to it himself was even better, and she said, “We’re nearly out of food. I know you can’t leave yet, because your cousin is far from strong enough, but we’re almost out of anything to feed so many people, even with what Abbot Gilberd brought for his own use. If you could help with that, it would be repayment in plenty.”
Rowcliffe gave a sharp nod. “That I can do. I’ll send two of my men off to-where’s nearest? Banbury? To there, to get-What would serve best?
“Old Ela in the guesthall will be able to tell you,” Frevisse said. “Our thanks to you. It will take a great worry off us.”
“As you’ve taken a great worry off me,” Rowcliffe returned, and they parted, pleased on both sides.
The bell began to ring to Tierce as she closed the cloister door behind her, and she went gratefully to the church, glad for the coming respite of the Office. So she was not best pleased to find Dame Perpetua and Dame Amicia standing in the middle of the choir, not taking their places but staring at someone kneeling on the step below the altar. Someone not a nun. Not in that green dress. A green dress that Frevisse knew with a sinking heart, even before Elianor Lawsell turned her head to look back over her right shoulder at them. Despite the silence that should hold once the bell had rung to an Office, Dame Amicia started, “Who’s she? What’s she…”
Frevisse made a sharp gesture, silencing Dame Amicia, and pointed to the choir seats. Dame Perpetua understood, started toward her own, then came back to take Dame Amicia firmly by one elbow and steer her toward her place while Frevisse went to her own. The other nuns, coming in, each had their turn at stopping and staring at Elianor, but with the example set by Dame Perpetua, Dame Amicia, and Frevisse, no one said anything, just silently took their seats. Only Dame Thomasine seemed not to note the girl.
There was an uncertain pause then, when they were all in their places, but before Dame Juliana could decide to start the Office, Domina Elisabeth all unexpectedly came. She, too, paused at sight of Elianor, now facing the altar again with deeply bowed head and hands clasped in front of her. Frevisse, her own head bowed, could see only the lower half of Domina Elisabeth’s skirts but was able to tell by that how long-longer than anyone else-she stood there before finally stepping up into her place. More than that, when she began the Office it was unevenly, with a tremor in her voice, and it was soon clear that her mind was barely there. The nuns, depending on her for their lead, got almost none. Their first antiphonal “Alleluia” came raggedly, and raggedly the Office went from there, until Frevisse could only be glad when the closing “Amen” came.
But with Tierce’s end, when Domina Elisabeth should have risen from her place and led the nuns from the church, she stood abruptly up and stalked toward the altar, demanding as she went, “What are you doing here? What do you mean, being here this way?”
Along with everyone else, Elianor stood up, too. She turned around but stayed where she was and said, her voice only shaking a little, “I claim sanctuary. I want to be here. I claim sanctuary.”
From beyond the rood screen where she must have been waiting for the Office’s end, Mistress Lawsell ordered, anger bursting from every word, “You come out of there, Elianor! You stop this foolishness and come here! We’re going home!”
Elianor returned as fiercely, “I won’t! I’m going to be a nun!” And to Domina Elisabeth, no less fiercely, “She can’t force me to leave. I claim sanctuary. You have to let me stay!”