Twilight Magic (23 page)

Reluctantly, she eased out of his way. Perhaps this was best. ’Twould give her time to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Ye gods, Darian was only halfway down the passageway and she missed him already.

Then the thought struck her that she had business at Wallingford, too!

“Darian, wait!”

As fast as she could manage, and still retain a mote of dignity, Emma strode down the hall.

“Perhaps I should come with you. I gave Earl William the charge of presenting my petition to King Stephen and I should like to know if he has done so yet. If you give me but a few hours with Nicole, we can—”

“Nay.
You
are to go
no
closer than this abbey to Wallingford. A siege camp is no place for a lady.”

She wished he would cease reminding her of her rank. Her name on his lips sounded so much better, especially when they stood this close. Despite being in this place of chastity, she felt the pull of his body on hers.

She lowered her voice, well aware the abbess and Nicole stood in the doorway watching and listening.

“With you I would be safe.”

He raised an eyebrow sardonically and answered in kind. “Look down at the blood on your bliaut and then tell me how safe you were yester morn.”

“That was different. The bishop’s soldiers were intent on capturing us. There would be no such danger in the camp.”

He sighed, and just as she thought he might relent, as he’d surrendered to her pleas before, he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips.

“Not this time, Emma. Visit with your sister. I shall ask William about the petition, and I give you my word I will come back for you.”

If naught else, Darian always kept his word, and this time pressing him would do no good. This time he intended to protect her by leaving her behind.

Emma swallowed hard. “Three days.”

“Michaelmas is in three days. Spend it with your sister and I will try to come the day after.”

Darian released her hand and strode down the long passageway to the door at the far end.

Not until the door closed behind him, did Emma square her shoulders and turn around. As she’d suspected, in the doorway stood the abbess and Nicole. Her sister looked a bit confused. The abbess, however, wasn’t confused at all, and Emma foresaw a long, possibly uncomfortable visit with the abbess, a visit she intended to put off as long as possible.

She held out her hand. “Come, Nicole, show me the cloister.”

“Oh, pray, not yet,” the abbess said, her hand clamping onto Nicole’s shoulder. “Since you are staying, let us see you settled first. Nicole, your sister looks of a size with Sister Agnes. Go ask her, nicely and gently, please, if Emma might borrow her spare robe so our laundress can repair your sister’s garments. Have her bring the robes to the guest chambers along with some unguent. Then hie off to the kitchen and inform Sister Enid that we require several buckets of hot water for a bath. Can you remember all that?”

“Certes, Mother Abbess. But when can I show Emma the gardens?”

“You think the gardens will not be there later, or on the morrow? Patience, child, patience.”

Nicole gave such an aggrieved sigh that Emma was forced to hide her smile behind her hand. She and Gwen had worried for naught. Nicole hadn’t changed one whit, despite the odd tone of her letters.

“I can remember. Robes, unguent, hot water.”

Nicole scampered down an adjoining passageway and Emma struggled to control her laughter.

The abbess came toward her, grinning, shaking her head. “Nicole will likely reach the chambers before we do.” Her grin faded into a soft smile. “Let me see your hands, child.”

Emma held out what she hadn’t truly thought to hide, placing them in the abbess’s smooth, soft but not weak hands.

“A mishap on the road, hmm?”

“Burns from a horse’s reins.”

“I see. They should heal nicely with time and unguent. Come, a hot bath and comb and fresh clothing will do you good.”

Thankful the abbess had decided to delay her questions, Emma gave herself up to the care of the woman she guessed mothered everyone in her chapter house. Including Nicole.

But as they passed the door through which Darian had fled the nunnery for the more familiar surroundings of a siege camp, she couldn’t help but hope that four days would pass quickly.

The following morning, Emma attended chapel with the nuns. Garbed in robes she’d never imagined wearing, she murmured the Latin prayers, but foreswore joining in the chants, preferring to let the glorious, uplifting voices of the nuns do them justice.

Watching Nicole join in the rites, Emma noted the girl
had
changed, though not to the extreme she and Gwen had feared. Though still spirited, she could now stand quietly, her head bowed in respectful prayer or silent reflection, a thing Nicole had never managed during services in Camelen’s chapel or the village church.

Perhaps Nicole flourished because of Mother Abbess’s firmness, or she responded to the tutelage of the women of all ages who dedicated themselves to God’s work. Whichever, Nicole had managed to fit in at Bledloe Abbey as Emma hadn’t been able to do at court.

The abbess led the procession from chapel into the refectory. Nicole, along with a few of the younger novices, set fragrant bread and aromatic cheese on the long tables. Emma was about to take a seat at the low end of one of those tables when the abbess waved her to bench next to her.

Even here, rank was given its due.

After a prayer to thank the Lord for the meal set before them, all observed the clerical custom of silence during meals as a time to reflect.

This much time devoted to inner reflection was all well and good for the nuns; Emma wanted no part of examining her problems this morn. She wished the meal would be over quickly so she could seek a distraction, something to occupy her thoughts so she wouldn’t miss Darian so much.

A small hand landed on her shoulder. Nicole mouthed the word “Come.” Emma glanced over at the abbess, who smiled and nodded her permission to leave table.

Hand in hand, Emma and Nicole escaped.

Emma squeezed Nicole’s hand. “I beg pardon for falling asleep so early last eve.”

“I admit I was disappointed, but when you were in your bath, I could see how tired you were. And as Mother Abbess reminded me, the gardens are yet here this morn. Emma, who is Darian of Bruges?”

She’d hoped Nicole wouldn’t ask about Darian because she wasn’t sure how much to tell her little sister. The girl deserved a measure of honesty, but Emma shied from revealing all. She’d not set a good example for the girl.

“Darian and I were wed about a sennight ago. Neither of us expected King Stephen to demand we—”

Nicole abruptly halted, her eyes opening wide in dismay. “You were wed and did not invite me to stand witness?”

How like Nicole to think first of how events affected her personally. But then, most children did the same.

“The wedding happened too quickly for us to invite guests. I would have preferred to have both you and Gwendolyn present, but your attendance was not possible.”

Nicole glanced at their clasped hands. “You wear no ring.”

“Not as yet.”

“Why not?”

Emma suspected Darian didn’t plan to obey the king’s order to provide her with a ring, considering it a waste of funds to purchase jewelry for a woman who would be his wife for so short a time.

In truth, she’d given no thought to the lack until now, and it seemed foolish for her finger to suddenly feel so naked when it had never borne the weight of a ring.

“Did I not tell you all happened in great haste? Come, were you not about to show me the cloister?”

To Emma’s relief, Nicole accepted the diversion and led them into the centermost area of the abbey, a large garden open to the sky, enclosed on all four sides by the abbey’s buildings.

Divided into quarters by paths, each area contained an abundance of plants, bushes, and trees. Scattered along the paths were benches, where the nuns could spend time meditating, or reading, or simply enjoying the beauty and solemnity of the garden.

Nicole knew the name of every plant, and Emma listened to a long litany of names before Nicole picked a grape from the vines clinging to the north wall.

“These are lovely, and ready for picking. Here, is it not sweet?”

Emma ate the offering. “Delicious.”

Nicole pointed toward the south wall. “The apples and pears are near ready, too.”

Emma dutifully exclaimed over the size and abundance of ripening fruit.

“Would you like an apple? They are quite delicious.” Emma almost said yes, but not far from the apple tree, water bubbled in a pretty marble fountain. Best to avoid the lovely fountain.

“What I would rather do is sit a moment.” Emma tugged Nicole over to a bench. “Now, I wish to know how you fare.”

“Quite well.” “No complaints?”

“None.”

Having raised Nicole from birth, Emma knew a lie from a truth.

“So you are utterly content and are considering taking vows?”

“Nay!”

“Whyever not? Mother Abbess is kindly, and your meals are provided, and you have this lovely cloister.”

Nicole finally pouted. “I should rather not be awakened in the middle of the night to go down to prayer.”

“Ah.”

“And two of the Sisters snore so loudly they keep all in the dormitory awake for those few hours we can sleep. The nuns live by the sundial. A time for this, a time for that. And it seems that when I am interested in doing this, it is time for that.”

“Such as?”

Nicole’s eyes brightened to sparkling. “I have a way with plants, or so Sister Enid says. The kitchen garden is my favorite place in the whole abbey, and I love picking and chopping and mixing the herbs!”

“You like to cook?”

“Heaven forefend! ’Tis the medicinal uses I study.” Nicole turned their clasped hands palms up, then ran a finger over Emma’s healing wound. “The unguent we used on your hand contains hound’s-tongue, very soothing for bruises and burns. Lavender added to a bath eases the spirit. Saffron is used to cure fevers and balance the humors.”

Emma smiled. “I did not know that about saffron.” “Well, you should, because I think saffron might help you. Do you still have headaches?”

Emma remembered the last headache Nicole had witnessed. The pain in her head had sharpened the pain in her heart when told of her father’s and brother’s death. She’d somehow managed to endure through the vigil and burial rites without falling on her face. Barely.

“I do get headaches, but the past two have not been so severe.”

“I have a packet for you, in the infirmary. ’Tis a mix of willow bark, saffron, and tansy. The next time you have a headache, make a tea of it and let me know if the mixture helps. If not, I will mix you another, perhaps add more tansy.”

Sweet mercy! Now Emma knew why Nicole took an interest in medicinal herbs. Her little sister strove to find a cure for headaches. How utterly sweet of her, and how unnecessary because Emma knew the cure.

If she never again looked into a pool, river, lake, fountain, or washbasin, she would never again suffer a headache. Unfortunately, no matter what precautions she took, sometimes she became entranced.

Of course, if she allowed the vision to play out, she wouldn’t suffer, either. But she wasn’t yet ready to allow the visions, even knowing she might have saved Rose.

Coward, a little voice whispered. Wise, her defenses countered.

Either way, Emma didn’t dare tell all that to her little sister, nor would she hamper the child’s quest. Perhaps Nicole’s mixture could cure someone else, if not the sister whom she yearned to help.

“I would be honored to try your mixture.”

Nicole leapt from the bench. “We can go to the infirmary and—oh, no. I fear we must wait.”

Mother Abbess strolled down the path toward them. Nicole sighed. “ ’Tis time for lessons. Today, I must practice my numbers. I prefer writing.”

“You are late, Nicole,” the abbess scolded gently.

“I am going,” she said, then bent down for a hug. “I shall find you before sext, and we can visit the infirmary while everyone is reading before dinner.”

“I look forward to it.”

Nicole walked off at what Emma judged a sluggish pace. But then, Nicole had never liked numbers.

The abbess took the seat Nicole had vacated. “I gather Nicole told you of her surprise for you.”

“You mean the herb mixture to cure my headaches? I must say, I am surprised she would take an interest.”

“Did so from the first. Nicole endures the lessons and chores and what she views as endless prayer in return for the hours she is allowed in the infirmary. At times I think her smiles do more to ease our ailing Sisters than the poultices and potions.”

“Nicole has a bright smile, and it does me good to see it again. Gwendolyn and I were most concerned about her, and I am delighted to see we worried for naught.”

“Why the worry?”

Emma smiled, thinking their fears rather foolish now. “Her letters did not read as if written by Nicole. The girl’s spirit seemed dulled, and we feared she had become despondent.”

“Oh, dear,” the abbess said, chagrined. “I fear it my fault. While teaching her to be sparse with her words and mindful of the cost of parchment, I may have stifled her.”

Emma put a hand on the abbess’s arm. “Whatever the reason, I now know our concerns unwarranted. Nicole is content, and for that, I thank you. We did right to send her to you.”

The abbess gave an appreciative nod. “ ’Tis not all my doing. Nicole’s contentment comes from finding a purpose here, and she is welcome to pursue her interest in medicinal herbs for as long as she remains with us.”

Emma worried her bottom lip. “My petition to allow her to return to Camelen may have recently been presented to the king. After seeing how she flourishes, I wonder if remaining here for a time would not be best for her.”

“Nicole speaks of you and Gwendolyn often. She loves and misses you both. All three of you have suffered much these past months.”

Emma rubbed her palms on the woollen robe. “Times have not been the best. However, Gwendolyn is now happy with her role as wife and lady of Camelen, and Nicole has, as you say, found a purpose. Perhaps our lives are beginning to turn right again.”