"I will obey, my lord," Baron Hugh said, silently damning his daughter to hell. He was going to find the most remote and harshest cloister and see Isleen put away forever! His family had come close to ruin today, and all because of the lewd, murderous bitch.
"Go, then," the king said, "and carry out my will."
Hugh de Warenne bowed, and backed from the king’s sight.
"Now," the king said to the steward, "will you pledge for yourself, and all of Ashlin’s folk, that you will be loyal to Lord Ranulf, Cedric of Ashlin? Will you accept him as your new master?"
"Right gladly, my lord, as long as he takes care of our lady Eleanore," the steward replied boldly.
"I will take great care of her," Ranulf de Glandeville said.
"Then, we will serve you loyally and with devotion, my lord," Cedric replied, and he bowed to his master.
"It is settled, then," the king said. "The marriage will take place tomorrow immediately preceding the morning Mass."
When they had departed the bishop’s hall, Elf turned to her steward. "How did you come to be here, Cedric? I did not give you permission to leave Ashlin."
"I had to come, my lady, and I hope you will forgive me, but your old Ida would not rest easy unless we could all be certain that Saer de Bude did not slander you further or force you into a marriage you didn't desire. We could not serve such a man, although for love of you we would have. Forgive me, my lady."
"But how did you gain the king’s ear?" Elf asked him.
"I simply told the bishop’s porter that I had important information for the king regarding a case to be heard today. The porter passed me on to the bishop’s seneschal, who gained the king’s ear for me. I told him everything we had seen and heard in Lord Richard’s last months. She never noticed us as she pursued her evil desires. There was nothing we could do to stop her, for we are serfs. We would have been punished for uttering our suspicions. Ida thinks it was the sugared almonds she was always feeding the lord. But we heard enough to be certain that she killed our dear lord. I thought the king should know before making any decision in this matter. I am glad, my lady, that you will be coming home to Ashlin, where you truly belong," Cedric finished.
"You will stay with me tonight, steward," Ranulf de Glandeville said to Cedric. "Your mistress must go now to prepare for our wedding." He turned to Elf, taking her hand again. "Lady, you need have no fear of me. You have been gently bred. I will respect your wishes in all matters, for I would that ours be a happy union."
Elf looked shyly up at him. "You are so big."
"And you so petite, lady," he responded with a small smile.
"I fear I shall not be a good wife."
"You were a most gracious hostess that night I stayed at Ashlin, my lady Eleanore. While your sister-in-law looked to her lover, you saw to my meal and to my sleeping accommodation. I think you will be a very good wife."
"But I do not know how to do so many things. It is a simple task to say, bring the lord a plate of food. But what happens when I must decide what food the cook is to prepare?"
"Cedric will help you, will you not, steward?" Ranulf de Glandeville said, his gaze going to the older man.
"Indeed, my lord, and cook will help the lady, and we all will aid her, for we are so glad she is coming home again," Cedric said.
"So, my lady Eleanore," her husband-to-be said, kissing her small hand and causing her to blush before he released it, "you will in due time become an excellent chatelaine."
They had reached the door of the bishop’s guest house.
"We will leave you now, my lord," the abbess said. "If Eleanore is to be a bride tomorrow, we must go into the market and the shops to see what garments we can obtain for her."
"The lady Eleanore, Reverend Mother, will be beautiful in whatever she is clothed, I am certain." Then he flushed. " I am no courtier with words, I fear." He bowed to the four women, and with Cedric in tow hurried off.
"For a man who is no courtier, he does quite well with words," the abbess said with a small smile. "I like him."
PART II
Chapter 6
“You honor my shop, Reverend Mother," the clothier said ashe ushered the nuns onto his premises. "How may I be of service to you? I have some fine black wool just in from France."
"Do you have a gown that might serve for a bride, Master Albert?" the abbess asked. "My young novice recently became an heiress on her brother’s death. The king and the bishop prefer that she wed one of King Stephen’s knights, rather than take her final vows. The king and the bishop desire the wedding be celebrated on the morrow. As you will understand, the lady has nothing but her habit. She cannot be wed in that now, can she?" Mother Eunice smiled hopefully.
"Oh, dear," the clothier replied, his brow furrowing in distress. Then he brightened. "My daughter is being wed in two months' time. Let me call my wife and see if we might not take something from among Cecily’s wardrobe that might suit your young lady." He went to the stairs of his shop, and called up, "Martha, come down, for I need your help."
The lady in question descended and, when told of the problem, was immediately sympathetic. "Of course we can help," she noted. "No lady should be wed looking like a little gray dove."
"I have funds from the bishop to pay you," the abbess said.
Mistress Martha smiled. Coin in hand, and not a year trying to obtain the monies owed. Excellent! Her mood brightened even more. "Come here, child, and let me look at you," she said to Eleanore. "Well, you're shorter than our Cecily, but there is little to raising a hem. The top of you looks about the same size." She turned to the abbess. "We can make good use of both her tunica and her skirts by matching them to the other, more colorful pieces. A nice yellow tunica for the gray skirts," she considered thoughtfully. "It will complement her pretty hair. Now, what to put with that gray tunica." She thought carefully. "Ah, yes, rose-and-light-blue-striped skirts. That will give the lass two changes of clothing. Now, for her marriage day gown. A particolored bliaut in forest green, the front embroidered in gold, to be worn with green skirts. It will be perfect on you, my dear, but my daughter hated it on sight, so it is certainly no loss to her. I do not understand, for I think it beautiful, but I believe she found it too fine a gown for a clothier’s daughter who is marrying a member of the carpenter’s guild-although I believe Peter will one day be a Master in his guild," the clothier’s wife said proudly. "Still, there is no arguing with a lass with bridal nerves. Come upstairs with me now, child, and we will see what needs to be done to make your clothing fit."
"Go with Eleanore, Sister Columba," the abbess said. "Sister Winifred and I will remain down here."
The two girls followed the clothier’s wife up the staircase, and into a large, bright room. Going to a wooden chest, Mistress Martha opened it and lifted out a yellow tunica. Instructing Elf to remove her own gray garment, she slipped the top over the girl’s head. Next she fastened a pretty girdle of deeper yellow with copper threads about Elf’s hips. She stepped back, then nodded.
"Our Cecily is taller and a bit broader, but you are both slender."
Elf let her fingers touch the soft silk fabric. Since her arrival at the convent, she had never worn anything but cotton or wool. "How do I look?" she asked Sister Columba shyly.
"Perfect. Oh, Elf, I wish you could see yourself. That yellow tunica makes your lovely hair even lovelier."