Adam smiled with gentleness at his daughter and continued. “Indeed, once Geoffrey married his whore, she was no longer available to Henry whether he loved or lusted for her. As my old friend said, a man, after being unhorsed, picks himself up and finds another horse to ride, but Henry whined and whined like a whipped pup. His father tried to make him see what a fool he was becoming and he mocked to press the point on him. That is all, but Henry continued to force his attentions on the lady and that angered his father even more. It is unnatural for a son to pursue his father’s wife like a lovesick pigeon.”
Eleanor shook her head. “If I may be so candid, father, Sir Geoffrey’s public ridicule of Henry was as excessive as beating an unweaned pup. Would you have so mocked either of your sons?”
“My sons have always known their duty. As a consequence, I have never been driven to treat either as Geoffrey did Henry. Still, I think I may say with some reason that both Hugh and Robert have gained respect amongst their peers. Henry had few friends and even fewer admirers. Have you forgotten that Henry so angered someone that he was killed? Someone, perhaps, who was less tolerant of his peevish manner than Geoffrey? He would have done well to take his father’s advice and behave in all ways as a man should. No matter how blind Geoffrey was about the woman he took to wife, he takes responsibility for his actions, something his son had yet to learn.”
Eleanor held her breath for a moment before saying what was on her mind. However angry it might make her father, she had to speak the thought. “You do not think that Sir Geoffrey might have done the deed himself?” she said at last, not daring to look her father in the eye. “You do not think that he might have been so outraged at his son’s rape, real or purported, that he killed his own son in revenge or even to silence him from forcing an annulment of the marriage by claiming prior sexual knowledge of his father’s wife?”
Adam snorted. “Nay, I do not, daughter. For all his blindness about his wife, he is a man of mature years who has suffered and overcome trials severe enough to test the limits of any mortal man. Henry, on the other hand, had no iron in his backbone. It is more likely, therefore, that Henry would have killed his father for taking away the sugar teat.”
“Then I must ask this, father: Although both you and I believe in Robert’s innocence, do you think he might have been bedding the Lady Isabelle? Could Henry have come upon them that night and attacked my brother out of a jealous rage…”
The baron smiled. “Ah, Eleanor, do you remember how shocked we were when Hugh brought that babe to us and confessed it was his?”
The prioress nodded.
“Know then that Robert confessed to me, as I proposed the marriage with Juliana to him, that he has had no knowledge of women except in his dreams when Satan sends his whores to tempt us all. Although he would swear otherwise, I think he would have found a monkish vocation quite suitable if you had not already taken vows.” He stopped and studied his daughter’s face for a long moment before continuing, “Now, however, although he might have made a fine abbot, he will be, as he always has been, a loyal son and will do as I ask, even to marriage.”
“You are truly blessed in your sons, my lord, if not in your daughter.”
“One of my children had to take after me,” replied the baron as he rose, leaving Eleanor to wonder which he meant.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The woman had been standing immobile near the stones of the parapet for so long that miniature drifts had formed against her feet. Oblivious to the chill, the Lady Juliana continued to stare into the gray void filled with swirling flecks of snow.
Thomas shook with the cold. Even the thick cloak and decent leather boots, loaned to him by his prioress from clothes left behind by Lord Hugh, were barely sufficient to keep the wind’s ice from his bones. How the woman in front of him could endure the bitter cold in lighter attire was beyond his imagination. Was she in a trance, he wondered, possessed perhaps, or simply mad?
“My lady,” he shouted into the wind. “Should you not seek shelter?”
When she finally turned to him, her face was without expression and her eyes blank of recognition.
“Fear not! I am Brother Thomas of Tyndal. I came with Prioress Eleanor and Sister Anne. Will you come inside for some spiced wine to chase away this cruel chill?”
She continued to look at him in silence. Although the falling snow obscured her features, her eyes glowed black amidst the pale flakes and Thomas felt uneasy under their unbroken gaze. Shifting his weight to keep his feet from growing numb, he found himself thinking that the woman could not be possessed, for surely Satan preferred fire to this ice when he tortured souls.
“Wine?” she asked at last in a tone that suggested his offer was some fantastic thing.
The snow continued to whirl in the wind. Thomas watched one snowflake, delicate as lace, land on his sleeve and slowly blend with its fellows. Beauty can be so fragile, yet so deadly, he thought, remembering how the snow had nearly frozen Anselm to death last night.
“If you will come inside,” he said, stepping forward with hand outstretched to pull her from the castle wall if need be, “we have much to discuss.”
“You wish to question me on my desire to enter Tyndal as an anchoress,” Juliana said as she started to walk slowly toward him.
“Aye,” he replied, “and perhaps more.”
“If you wish to speak of death, we should remain here, brother, where we are closer to it.” She stopped and gestured toward the parapet.
She was quite mad. Thomas was now sure of it.
Then she smiled with such warmth that even her grim words were melted into a jest. “I will come with you, brother,” she said as she pulled her cloak more closely around her and hurried to his side. “You have no need to stand in the cold waiting for this foolish woman to come out of it. I did not mean to make you suffer for your courtesy.”
***
Despite the warmth of the hearth and the heaviness of his borrowed garments, Thomas could feel his hands and feet just now begin to sting with returning feeling. The woman who sat on the other side of the table with a cup of spiced wine looked untouched by her time in the freezing storm.
“You say you wish to enter Tyndal as an anchoress, my lady,” Thomas began, his teeth still chattering. “There is no enclosed cell for you next to the church. Would you not come to us as a nun instead?”
“I do not require a hermitage enclosed with stone, brother. I know of no rule, beyond current custom, that requires someone of my stern calling to anchor in a space surrounded by stone and mortar. A cave or hut in the forest would suit me as well as it did men and women in times past. Amongst God’s verdant gifts, He has given us many quiet places where we may find the solitude to contemplate and hear His voice with greater clarity. It has never mattered whether those who seek Him retreat into the burning wilderness of the desert fathers or England’s dark woods.”
“My lady, please understand that it is not I who will decide whether or not to approve your plea or the details thereof. The bishop and our prioress will do that.” Thomas poured more hot, spiced wine into her cup as well as his own. Perhaps women did dwell in forest huts long ago, he thought, but such a request by members of the weaker sex was quite unusual now. Still, she was right about one thing. Removal from the joys of London to the more austere East Anglian coast had given him more time for contemplation, as had the new joys of his work in a hospital and listening to the novice choir’s simple lyricism whenever he wished. His new sea-scented residence might not be as dour as a desert, the wind-pruned forest near Tyndal might not match the grim darkness of others less buffeted, but surely the reek of fish and rotting seaweed held some position of merit in God’s eyes.
Thomas glanced up and caught Juliana smiling at him. The look was not mocking, but it unsettled him. “Since I am the confessor to the nuns of Tyndal,” he quickly explained, “your welfare would be my responsibility; therefore, Prioress Eleanor thought it wise that I question you on the basis for your decision to become an anchoress.”