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Authors: Priscilla Royal
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shattered into a myriad of white flakes.
Down in the ward, he noticed two women and a man walking. From her colorful clothes that stood out even in the misty light below, he knew one of the women was Sir Geoffrey’s wife. She was walking at a discreet distance behind the couple. Thomas squinted to sharpen his sight. Surely the second woman was the Lady Juliana. Besides Lady Isabelle, she was the only woman of rank he knew to be in residence who did not wear a habit. If it was, then the man beside Juliana must be Robert.
Aye, he decided as he focused on him, that black hair and short stature would suggest that the man was his prioress’ brother. As he watched Robert woo his lady, the monk chuckled with gentle amusement. A man of honor, Robert was. Even though they were out walking in public, he made sure they were properly attended.
Suddenly, the threesome stopped and looked back. Thomas was too far away to distinguish words, but he did hear shouting and watched the party below wait as another man ran up to them.
It was the Lord Henry, Thomas concluded, or at least the man had the same round face and was dressed as Henry had been after the hunt. Considering the encounter between stepson and stepmother earlier, this could not be a happy meeting. Perhaps the stepson now wished to beg pardon for his recent behavior? Thomas rather doubted it.
The monk watched Henry walk over to the Lady Isabelle, put his arm around her waist and, once again, pull her to him. As Thomas bent forward into the window opening, he saw Juliana quickly bend down to pick something up from the ground, then start toward them. Robert pulled her back, leaning over to say a word in her ear. Then he pointed at Henry, his voice raising enough for the monk to hear the anger if not his words.
Isabelle twisted in Henry’s arms and pushed at him. Instead of releasing her, the young man rubbed his cheek against hers. She drew back and pushed again. He laughed, the sound of his harsh merriment rising easily in the cold air to the window where Thomas stood.
Robert abruptly left Juliana’s side. Henry continued to laugh as Robert walked toward him, one hand on his dagger hilt.
Henry pushed his stepmother away and drew a knife. Robert pulled his dagger from its sheath, and the two men began to circle each other.
Juliana shouted as she ran to her stepmother’s side, gesturing at something behind them. The men both stopped and looked where she was pointing.
As Thomas looked in the direction Juliana was indicating, he saw Baron Adam striding toward them as quickly as his bad leg would allow. In his hand was a sword and just behind him were several soldiers.
“Drop those weapons or I will have both of you put in chains,” he shouted.
The baron was the only one whose words he could hear from that distance. Now that was a voice trained in battle, Thomas thought with admiration.
Both Robert and Henry sheathed their knives.
Henry bowed as he said something to the baron, then walked away.
When Robert turned to the Lady Isabelle, she reached out for his hand and pressed it to her breast. As he jerked his hand from her grasp, she laughed. The sound was so harsh that Thomas’ ears ached more from that than from the cold.
Chapter Nine
Sir Geoffrey rammed his scarred stump into the palm of his left hand. “Juliana will marry and bed with Robert if I have to hold her down while he mounts her.”
Eleanor winced.
“Surely such will not be necessary, Geoffrey.” Adam shoved a pewter cup of wine within his friend’s reach. “She will see that this marriage is both a wise and happy course. I remember her as a dutiful child, however high-spirited.” He smiled.
Geoffrey did not.
“Has she never told you of her calling?” Eleanor asked her father’s friend.
Geoffrey swung around and glared at her. Eleanor instinctively drew back, the ferocity in his brown eyes hitting her like a sharp slap on the cheek.
“Calling?” he snarled. “She has no vocation.
Down in the ward, he noticed two women and a man walking. From her colorful clothes that stood out even in the misty light below, he knew one of the women was Sir Geoffrey’s wife. She was walking at a discreet distance behind the couple. Thomas squinted to sharpen his sight. Surely the second woman was the Lady Juliana. Besides Lady Isabelle, she was the only woman of rank he knew to be in residence who did not wear a habit. If it was, then the man beside Juliana must be Robert.
Aye, he decided as he focused on him, that black hair and short stature would suggest that the man was his prioress’ brother. As he watched Robert woo his lady, the monk chuckled with gentle amusement. A man of honor, Robert was. Even though they were out walking in public, he made sure they were properly attended.
Suddenly, the threesome stopped and looked back. Thomas was too far away to distinguish words, but he did hear shouting and watched the party below wait as another man ran up to them.
It was the Lord Henry, Thomas concluded, or at least the man had the same round face and was dressed as Henry had been after the hunt. Considering the encounter between stepson and stepmother earlier, this could not be a happy meeting. Perhaps the stepson now wished to beg pardon for his recent behavior? Thomas rather doubted it.
The monk watched Henry walk over to the Lady Isabelle, put his arm around her waist and, once again, pull her to him. As Thomas bent forward into the window opening, he saw Juliana quickly bend down to pick something up from the ground, then start toward them. Robert pulled her back, leaning over to say a word in her ear. Then he pointed at Henry, his voice raising enough for the monk to hear the anger if not his words.
Isabelle twisted in Henry’s arms and pushed at him. Instead of releasing her, the young man rubbed his cheek against hers. She drew back and pushed again. He laughed, the sound of his harsh merriment rising easily in the cold air to the window where Thomas stood.
Robert abruptly left Juliana’s side. Henry continued to laugh as Robert walked toward him, one hand on his dagger hilt.
Henry pushed his stepmother away and drew a knife. Robert pulled his dagger from its sheath, and the two men began to circle each other.
Juliana shouted as she ran to her stepmother’s side, gesturing at something behind them. The men both stopped and looked where she was pointing.
As Thomas looked in the direction Juliana was indicating, he saw Baron Adam striding toward them as quickly as his bad leg would allow. In his hand was a sword and just behind him were several soldiers.
“Drop those weapons or I will have both of you put in chains,” he shouted.
The baron was the only one whose words he could hear from that distance. Now that was a voice trained in battle, Thomas thought with admiration.
Both Robert and Henry sheathed their knives.
Henry bowed as he said something to the baron, then walked away.
When Robert turned to the Lady Isabelle, she reached out for his hand and pressed it to her breast. As he jerked his hand from her grasp, she laughed. The sound was so harsh that Thomas’ ears ached more from that than from the cold.
Chapter Nine
Sir Geoffrey rammed his scarred stump into the palm of his left hand. “Juliana will marry and bed with Robert if I have to hold her down while he mounts her.”
Eleanor winced.
“Surely such will not be necessary, Geoffrey.” Adam shoved a pewter cup of wine within his friend’s reach. “She will see that this marriage is both a wise and happy course. I remember her as a dutiful child, however high-spirited.” He smiled.
Geoffrey did not.
“Has she never told you of her calling?” Eleanor asked her father’s friend.
Geoffrey swung around and glared at her. Eleanor instinctively drew back, the ferocity in his brown eyes hitting her like a sharp slap on the cheek.
“Calling?” he snarled. “She has no vocation.
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