Read Online Almost Innocent by Jane Feather - Free Book Online

him.”
    Magdalen’s eyes widened. “He is a son of the king, is he not?”
    “And one of the most powerful men in the realm,” Guy said without exaggeration, reflecting that with John of Gaunt’s faction controlling the Parliament at Westminster, he had undisputed control over the affairs of the land.
    “Perhaps I shall see the king,” Magdalen said in hushed tones. “Do you think I might, my lord?”
    “Not today, although we will sup at the Savoy Palace and lie there overnight.”
    The child was silent at this information. She knew enough to realize that in such a case, she would be separatedfrom de Gervais, given into the charge of strangers. It was an alarming prospect.
    “As to the sights you do not have time to enjoy,” he continued cheerfully, “today we are in somewhat of a hurry, but tomorrow we will proceed at a more leisurely pace, and you may look your fill.”
    “May I have a silver penny, too?” The thought diverted her attention from the upcoming visit.
    “I think I could spare such a sum.” He laughed. “What gewgaw have you set your heart upon?”
    “None in particular.”
    “But one must have money to burn, is that it?”
    She laughed up at him and nodded. “Edmund kissed me this day. Do you think he should?”
    “That rather depends upon whether you think he should,” he responded. “Did you find it agreeable?”
    Her nose wrinkled. “I am not certain. My lady says I am to be wed even if I do not yet have my terms. Is it truly so?”
    “Yes, but you will remain with the others in the children’s wing until you are old enough to be a proper wife to your husband.”
    “Catherine has her terms already, but she is not yet betrothed. She says she would wish for the religious life, but I think that would be very drear, do you not, my lord?”
    “Not everyone thinks the same way,” he pointed out. “But how long has Catherine had this yearning for the cloister? I did not know of it.”
    “She had a vision two months past, when she was walking in the pleasaunce,” Magdalen informed him. “It was of an angel and a beggarwoman. The angel was very beautiful, in shining robes with a large halo, and he told Catherine she must devote her life to the poor . . . That was the beggarwoman, you understand. And when Catherine woke up—for she said it was as if she had been asleep although she was still standing up—she had been transfigured.”
    “I see.” Religious hysteria in girls of Catherine’s age was hardly unusual, Guy reflected, but he had best talk with his young cousin. He had begun tentative discussion of a betrothal with the son of Roger de Mauroir, but if she really wished for the religious life, then he would not stand in her way. The abbess of Cranborne Priory was his kinswoman and would be delighted to receive a well-dowered cousin as novitiate. And the young de Mauroir could be saved for Alice, who was nearly nine and could soon be betrothed.
    Magdalen’s merry prattle continued until they reached the gate of the city. There she fell abruptly silent in mid-sentence, her mouth slightly agape as she stared upward at the peculiar frieze over the gate. It took her a minute to realize that they were heads, disembodied heads, fleshless, although some still had straggling locks wisping in the breeze. She had never seen such a sight, never before having spent time in a city.
    Her awed silence continued as they rode through the narrow streets. She did not think she had ever seen so many people gathered in one place. And what a people they were. They walked with an air of belonging to no man, the air of those who inhabit the kingdom of heaven and know it. Burghers and master craftsmen in rich mantles bedecked with jeweled chains jostled with leather-aproned apprentices and sober-gowned merchants. The noise was incessant, a cacophony of shrieks and bellows, of blows and laughter. Street vendors called out their wares, and children darted between the hooves of cart horses pulling