The Sumerton Women (27 page)
“Do you not trust me, Father?” Mirabella asked, her tone betraying her hurt.
“You are a former novitiate nun,” Father Alec told her. “You were, as I remember, a supporter of the Pilgrimage of Grace and a practitioner of what you call the ‘True Faith.’ ” He turned, raising a brow and smiling. “So, my friend, what do you think?”
Mirabella bowed her head. “I suppose not,” she admitted. “But I’d like you to know that we are friends before we are avowed to any creed. You can trust me, Father.” She met his eyes, her heart pounding. “I promise I would never betray you.”
Father Alec reached out, covering her hand with his. Mirabella trembled at his touch. “I appreciate your friendship, mistress. But I would never want to compromise you by sharing views that would burden your heart and leave you torn.”
“My beliefs are my own,” she said. “What I see now is that not everyone will ever agree on a matter as complex as religious doctrine. But maybe there is some way we could coexist and compromise?”
“Then you have grown,” Father Alec observed. “To bend but not to break is a great strength, and if this is truly so, then I respect you all the more.”
“Then?” she prodded, hating the fact that she was baiting him, that she was lying. She knew in her heart it was either the True Faith or the New Learning. There was no compromise, no coexisting. The battle would be long; many casualties would be sacrificed on both sides before it was won.
“Then what?” Father Alec chuckled, withdrawing his hand to urge the horse in a pleasant canter.
“Then what of the celibacy of priests?” Mirabella asked.
“They won’t be encouraged to rove the countryside for ladies of the night, if that is what you’re implying,” he said in light tones. “But the sacrament of marriage would be made open to them, yes.”
“And you, Father?” Mirabella persisted. She chastised herself for her forwardness yet couldn’t contain herself. All self-discipline seemed to be lost with her veil. “Would you marry, had you the choice?”
Father Alec sighed. “It is not good for man to be alone,” he said at length. “And if the flesh burns, it must be contained in the marriage bed.” He paused. “Would I marry? A wise man once told me that permitting priests to marry would allow them a better understanding of the struggles of their fellow man. I cannot say I disagree.” He turned to her, his tone thoughtful. “I suppose it wouldn’t be abhorrent to have a helpmate, to know that someone will come after me when I pass on.” His tone became light. “However, it is all rather moot now, isn’t it? Until then, if then ever comes, I am constrained to my vow of chastity. So chaste I shall remain.”
Mirabella ignored the last statements, latching on to what she considered most valid. He would marry. Her heart quickened. He would marry... .
When Father Alec and Mirabella returned to Castle Sumerton, James Reaves was there to collect the horses.
“Mistress Mirabella, may we have speech?” he asked as he took her hand, helping her dismount.
When she was satisfied Father Alec was out of earshot, she faced him. He kept a firm hold on her hand.
“You have never given me an answer,” he noted. “For months now I have been waiting, hoping you would recall that I asked you to marry me. And yet, still I wait, as though my proposal meant nothing to you.”
Mirabella bowed her head, her face flushing. How could she give him an answer when everything had changed today, when Father Alec admitted there was a chance
he
would marry? How could she give herself to anyone else? Yet Father Alec never said he would marry
her
. And who could anticipate when or if that reform would ever be pushed through? But if it did go through ... It made sense that Father Alec would marry her; they challenged each other, they enjoyed each other’s company, she loved him. The last thought startled her, but she could no longer deny it. She loved him. She would have him, no one else.
he
would marry? How could she give herself to anyone else? Yet Father Alec never said he would marry
her
. And who could anticipate when or if that reform would ever be pushed through? But if it did go through ... It made sense that Father Alec would marry her; they challenged each other, they enjoyed each other’s company, she loved him. The last thought startled her, but she could no longer deny it. She loved him. She would have him, no one else.
“I’m sorry, James,” she said in short tones. “I cannot marry you.” She withdrew her hands, turning away from him.
“Then all these years, all the time we have spent together—”
Mirabella whirled toward him. “Have I ever behaved as anything less than a lady? Have I ever indicated any feelings toward you other than friendship? For love of God, James, if you feel you’ve wasted time on me, then perhaps you have!”
“For love of God,” James repeated in quiet tones. “Yes, I rather thought it was the love of God that drew us together. I see now that I am wrong. The love of God does drive you, that is certain, but not toward me.” He shook his head, pity lighting his eyes. “It’s the priest you want, isn’t it?”
It was instinct. She brought her hand across his cheek in a stinging slap that echoed in the stables. From its stall a horse whinnied its disapproval.
James shook his head, unaffected. “You’ll not get what you want from that man. He’s an honorable one, if he’s anything at all. And you’d have to be a blind fool to see that if he were free to love ’twouldn’t be you.” He drew in a quavering breath. “It would be the Lady Cecily.”
Hot tears stung Mirabella’s eyes. She shook her head. “You’re wrong, James. Cecily is devoted to my father—”
“That is not in question, is it?” James returned coolly. “I only said who he would choose if both were free to. But they aren’t, are they? Yet you’ll throw your life away on a chance, a slight chance, when before you stands a man ready to give you a life filled with love, children, a home, whatever is in my power to give. But that’s too easy, isn’t it? That’s too safe. You like the risk, the danger. That’s why you stayed on at Sumerton Abbey, that’s why you went to London, and that’s why you throw yourself shamelessly before a man you can’t have. My apologies for being simple. My apologies for not being forbidden.”
With that, he turned on his heel and quit the stables, his steps brusque with purpose.
Mirabella stood alone, burying her face in her hands and sobbing for herself, for James, and for the fact that he was right.
Father Alec returned to find Hal gone to Lincoln and the children abed. Lady Alice Camden had come calling and was keeping company with Cecily, embroidering in the bower. Father Alec paused outside the door, taking in the scene, his breath caught in his throat. The sun filtering through the bay window created an ethereal glow about Cecily; her hair shone as though it were lit from within. Her skin, bathed in the soft light, radiated with a warm luster. In a peculiar way, Father Alec found himself likening her to the Virgin Mary.
“There is the woman in the woods, you know,” he heard Alice tell her.
Cecily inclined her head. “The witch?”
Father Alec knew it was impolite to eavesdrop; he should withdraw. But he found himself rooted in place, curious at the nature of this conversation.
“I would not call her a witch,” Alice corrected. “A wisewoman to be sure, perhaps like a pagan druid priestess of old ...”
“The law would not discern one from the other if she were caught,” Cecily warned. “Both witches and druid priestesses burn the same.”
The dark statement caused a chill to course up Father Alec’s spine. He edged closer to the door.
Alice expelled a sigh tinged with frustration. “Regardless, Cecily, I’m telling you she may be the answer to your prayers. I have not borne a child since seeing her, thanks be to God. She could do the same for you.”
Cecily’s hands ceased their sewing. She bit her lip. Father Alec noted the beads of perspiration gathering at the base of her throat. “How?”
“Pennyroyal. It’s an herb, administered in very small doses.” Alice’s voice was hushed with the excitement of a conspiracy.
Father Alec had heard of pennyroyal and the damage it could cause. It was an abortifacient. In the worst cases, it could prove lethal to the partaker. His heart raced. No matter the grief of her loss, Cecily could not justify this. A child was a gift from God; she must see that. Basic contraception was one thing, and another difference between Father Alec and the Church of Rome was that he could truly see no harm in regulating the size of one’s family. But this ... this was different. This was dangerous.
He could not bear to see Cecily put herself in any kind of jeopardy.
“All right,” Cecily said, the gaze falling upon Alice pointed. “Procure me some, if you will. But I do not want to see her. Not just now.”
Alice nodded. The two commenced their sewing in silence.
Father Alec slipped away, his heart heavy, his mind restless.
“You mean to say that Master James asked for your hand and you said no?” Cecily asked, gazing at Mirabella’s tear-streaked cheeks, incredulous. “Why?”
They were in Mirabella’s apartments. Cecily had all but chased her down when she saw Mirabella flee to them, head buried in her hands.
Mirabella’s green eyes were emerald fires of indignation. “You would not understand,” she said. “You cannot understand how it feels to know one’s first calling is to God. Can you expect me to abandon my inclination just because I am no longer formally tied to monastic life?”
“I appreciate how difficult that would be for you, Mirabella,” Cecily told her, her tone sincere. “But it has been seven years. You have had time to adjust. And James has been so good to you. He is a kind, honorable man who shares your convictions.”
Mirabella offered a frenzied shake of the head. “I cannot!”
“Mirabella, I understand you have fears,” Cecily went on. “But Master James can give you your own home, your own children, your own
life
. Don’t you want those things? I often feel for you, watching how wonderful you are with your sister and brother. You deserve to be a mother yourself. Don’t you want your own space?”
life
. Don’t you want those things? I often feel for you, watching how wonderful you are with your sister and brother. You deserve to be a mother yourself. Don’t you want your own space?”
Mirabella turned away. “I am happy here,” she said.
“Are you?” Cecily challenged. “Or is it just that it is safe here? Here you can live through others without ever really experiencing anything yourself—”
“Do you want me gone?” Mirabella demanded. “Is that it? I can leave. I can go to my mother’s family in York. I can go to court, to Sumerton Place. If that is it, just say the word.”
“You know that is not it,” Cecily told her, appalled and frustrated that she remained so obstinate, so impossible to reach. “But I worry that you are not really living here, that you are treading water, passing time. I want you to be happy, Mirabella. I know that if you gave Master James the chance, he could provide a great deal of what you are missing now.”
“He is not the one!” Mirabella screamed.
Cecily was silent a long moment. She would not entertain her suspicions. Surely Mirabella was more honorable than that.
Cecily shook her head. “Then who is?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.
Mirabella said nothing.
Cecily quit the apartments.
Father Alec knew there was no other course but honesty. He sought Cecily out in the stillroom two days later, where she had been gathering lavender to put in the linens.
“Lady Cecily, I must confess that I heard your conversation with Lady Alice,” he told her.
Cecily arched a brow, pursing her lips. “You had no right to conceal your presence,” she said. Her tone was so cold, so formal. Her distance saddened him.
“Then neither of us are right, me for concealing my presence and you for concealing your child.” He drew in a breath.
Cecily’s face contorted as tears lit her teal eyes; they shone brilliant as a moonlit sea. “You do not understand, you cannot understand, what it is to lose a child, what it does to you... . I will not risk it again. And Hal ... he doesn’t deserve any more loss after all he has endured. He cares not if we have other children; Harry is healthy and secured as his heir and Kristina is our hearts’ delight.” She shrugged, returning her gaze to the lavender she arranged and rearranged in its basket. “And I do not want any more children.”
“There are other ways to prevent that,” Father Alec assured her, embarrassed that he should be the one to shed light on such a sensitive subject. “But if you are already with child, you are putting yourself and the child in an incredible amount of danger. Does Lord Hal deserve that tragedy? Do any of us?” he added before he could help it.
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