Read Online The Innocent by Bertrice Small - Free Book Online

Elf took the opportunity to shove past him, clutching the linens, which had somehow managed to remain free of her spew. She was dizzy, but she didn't stop in her flight, handing off the fragrant linens to a young servant woman, saying, "Take these to the hall. I must have some air." Then she ran from the house into the sunny summer morning.
    She ran through the gates, and kept running until she found herself in a meadow filled with ewe sheep and their lambs. Sitting down beneath a large oak tree, she clutched her knees to her chest and wept. Dickon was going to die, and there was nothing she could do about it. All of her skills were useless, and worse, she wished Dickon had never sent for her. She wanted to be back at St. Frideswide's. It was almost the end of June. Midsummer’s Eve was upon them. Matti would probably take her vows alone while she was stuck here at Ashlin with a dying brother, his wife, and Saer de Bude. Dickon had visited her only that one time in all the years since he had placed her in the convent. Why now this need to have her by his side? He could have died, and she could have inherited Ashlin without all of this fuss. Her presence had made absolutely no difference at all.
    Or did her brother, perhaps, feel guilty for sending her away to please his bride-to-be? He needn't have, Elf thought. After the first month she had grown used to her convent, and enjoyed the company of the other little girls. Or maybe Dickon had realized all along that he was dying, and felt a deep need to have his sister with him. There seemed little love between him and Isleen now. Had he given in to her every whim in the past to try to make her love him? If only Isleen had borne Dickon children… but she had not.
    Elf started, terrified, as a body plunked itself down next to her. Then her eyes met Arthur's, and she sagged, visibly relieved. "It’s you, praise God!" she said, and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
    "I saw you tear out of the hall like the devil himself was after you," Arthur said.
    "He was," Elf answered her old playmate, "but he calls himself Saer de Bude. He followed me to the linen cupboard and tried to kiss me," Elf told Arthur. "He has spoken to me several times in a most unsuitable manner. It is almost as if he were trying to woo me."
    "Maybe he is," Arthur suggested quietly. "I wouldn't put it past him, Elf." Then he flushed, realizing he had used her nickname as he had always done when they were children.
    Elf put a hand on his arm. "It’s still Elf to you, Arthur," she told him. "Why would that awful man attempt to woo me? I am a nun. I have voiced no indication that I have changed my mind about taking my final vows. Indeed, I cannot wait to return to St. Frideswide's!"
    "But shortly you will be an heiress with a fine, small manor in your possession. Saer de Bude is a younger son. He has nothing. I believe if the lord’s wife were to inherit Ashlin instead of you, Elf, he would wed her, but the lady Isleen is not the heiress. You are. What will you do with Ashlin, and what will become of us?"
    "The manor will belong to my order," Elf said. "I do not know what the Reverend Mother will decide. Perhaps she will rent the manor to some knight seeking a place of his own. Perhaps she will sell it off, but it doesn't matter. You and the others belong to Ashlin. You will be secure, Arthur."
    "But without our family," he said. "The de Montforts have been part of Ashlin forever."
    "Not really," Elf told him. "Ashlin was a Saxon manor in the Conqueror’s time. Its daughter wed a de Montfort, and Ashlin was her dowry. My ancestress, Rowena, did what was expedient for Ashlin, and for herself. The story goes that her brothers were killed at Hastings, and her old father wounded seriously, but his bravery had attracted King William. He ordered one of his knights, the first Richard de Montfort, to bring Sir Edmund home to Ashlin. And when he did and met the lady Rowena, it was love at first sight. She had hair my color.