The pale gold of the ripe barley gave way to a meadow in which meadowsweet, poppies and cornflowers swayed in the light breeze. Melisende had come here to collect the flowers but it was an excuse, she realized, because she simply needed to escape the inner priory confines on such a perfect summer’s day. The sky was tinged the same colour as the lavender that grew tall along the priory walls. All around her was orderly and prosperous and yet inside, her thoughts and feelings waged as if at war. She sat down, drew her knees to her chin and gazed out across the priory pond, sheltered beneath the towering trees. Was the Abbess right? Did the treacherous needs of her body outweigh the needs of her mind?
“’Tis a beautiful place.”
Melisende jumped up to find Galien watching her. “’Tis… Yes,” she mumbled.
He walked over to her. “May I join you?”
“Certainly.” She watched as he eased himself down. “You are recovering well, I see.”
“Excellent nursing.” He grinned up at her with a totally disarming, youthful grin that made her forget her confusion.
She grinned back. “You flatter.”
“No. I never flatter. I speak the truth. Always.” There was something in his manner of speaking, in the way his smile disappeared from his face, and in the intensity in his eyes, that made her catch her breath and still her movements. “Come, sit down beside me,” he added.
She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. But oh, how much she wanted to. She shook her head. “I came to collect meadowsweet.” She indicated the swathe of white flowers all around them. “It grows well here and is useful for many things.” She knelt down and began to pick the flowers she’d come to collect. She could feel his eyes upon her.
“You know this place well, for someone who’s only been here a year.”
“I used to visit often when I was growing up. It was more of a home than my own.”
“You were not happy at home?”
She shook her head. “I was always the odd one out. My father had little to do with me. I have two older sisters who were family enough for him.”
“’Tis strange indeed that he would ignore such a beautiful and talented daughter. Especially when you shared his interest in learning and medicine.”
She shrugged. “My father never knew of my interests. He talked with Rowena about business and he’d talk with Angelique about domestic matters. But me? No.” She shook her head. “I’d receive a scowl and a dismissive wave of the hand.”
“But why? I’m sorry if I pry, but I do not understand.”
“Nor did I, until after his death. It was then that the Abbess told me that he was not my natural father, which meant I was not her natural niece, but that seemed not to matter to her.” She shrugged, and pressed her lips together in an effort to seal in the hurt that had risen, unbidden, like a chill ghost from the past. “He was not my father and he could never forgive my mother for her love affair.”
“Ah, a cuckolded man is rarely forgiving.”
“Particularly when there is no love between him and his wife. Their marriage had been a joining of lands and wealth, and was not blessed by love or respect. So my mother apparently fell in love. Her lover… my real father… disappeared, where or by what means, no-one knows or is saying, and my mother went mad with grief and lived only a few years more.”
She felt a light touch of his hand on hers. “I am truly sorry, Melisende. It must have been hard for you.”
She shrugged. “I was not cast out. To have done that, my father would have had to admit I was not his true daughter. And I was left a third of his estate. It could have been worse for me. I might have been a cuckoo in a swift’s nest, but at least I had a nest.”
“But not one to your liking. You prefer Blakesmere. ’Tis hard to leave those feelings behind.” He took hold of her hand again, weaving his fingers through hers. “You were a misfit who sought solace within the confines of a priory. No wonder the Abbess refuses you admission to be a novice.”
“Indeed. Because I am not good enough.”
“No. Because you are here for the wrong reasons.” He paused and she took advantage of it to change the subject.
“So what of your childhood?” She rose and dropped a handful of flowers into a basket. “Was it happy?”
He tilted his face up to the dappled sunlight and smiled—a rare happy smile—and her heart melted. She knew at that moment that she loved him, even if she could never have him.
“Aye. A very happy childhood. I had two younger sisters, and a younger brother. My father held a respected position in Poitou and my mother made sure we were raised well. Very happy.” He looked back down and across at her. She suddenly realized she hadn’t moved, that she was standing staring at him, entranced. “And very short.”
“Oh,” the soft sound slipped from her lips. “I’m sorry.”
“I was seventeen when Prince Arthur of Brittany captured his grandmother, Eleanor of Aquitaine and held her at Mirebeau. My father wasn’t happy to be caught up at the centre of such intrigue but he had no choice but to support his liege lord who supported Prince Arthur’s claim to the English throne. But Arthur was young and foolish and underestimated the time it would take King John to cover the distance to the castle.” Galien looked away again. “John and his men showed no mercy to anyone. My family were slaughtered. Only I escaped. I’d ridden out into the woods that morning to hunt. I knew the forest well, had played in them as a child with my sisters. It was as well for, after the slaughter, the forest became my home until I managed to find my way to the French King.”
“The French King? You pledged your allegiance to the French King?”
“Aye. And I volunteered to come to England to spy for him.”
She looked up from the flowers in her hands and into his eyes, stunned by his admission. “A spy?”
“Aye. And what, I wonder, does the fair Melisende think of that?”
He was testing her. She could see that despite the lightness of his words, his eyes were deadly serious.
She reached up and touched his cheek. “I do not judge, sir. There is only One who would judge and he can see into people’s hearts and I believe you to be most good and true in your heart.”
He caught her hand and kissed it. “That is because you are too good to see the bad in people.”
She shook her head and tugged her hand free from his. “Oh, no. I see people for what they are. I see you, for what you are. For instance, I could tell at once that you were no priest.”
He laughed. “Yes, that was never going to be a great disguise. I am far too hot and hasty to be a priest. And priests don’t usually go around killing men.”
She smoothed her fingers over the velvety petals of the flowers she still held. “The man you killed. Did he…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Kill my father? Yes. I don’t know who killed the rest of my family. It could have been any of the mercenaries John led into battle. But I do know who killed my father, and he is now dead. That debt has been paid.”
“What will you do now?”
“Return. Back to France. And then,” he shrugged, “wherever I’m sent. I have no home.”
“Nor I.” The words tumbled out before she could stop them.
He frowned. “But you have this place. ’Tis very beautiful here, your work is valued at the priory. And Lady Anne—the Abbess—loves you like you were her daughter, I can see that.”
“’Tis the closest thing I have to a home. But…” She shook her head, unwilling to voice the feelings that had been growing within her the past few days.
“But?”
“I am a misfit here, also.” She pursed her lips, trying to stop them from trembling, from giving away the fact that she knew the truth but it scared her to death. She turned around suddenly to find him close.
He took her hand in both of his. “Look at me, Melisende.” Reluctantly she looked at him, knowing her true feelings would be betrayed by her eyes. She couldn’t hide the truth from
him. “Blakesthorpe Priory is but one place. There are many others in the world. Places of knowledge, of beauty, of infinite variety. A home is not made by a place alone. When I return to my old childhood home, it is no longer a home to me because the people have gone. ’Tis the people you love that make it a home. If you have not found your home here, then you should seek it and do not rest until you have found it.”
She was silent for a moment as she wondered what his feelings for her were. Were they just the passing kindness of a stranger, or something more? “You will be leaving soon. Will you keep moving until you find your home?”
“I am speaking of you, Melisende, not me. You are young, innocent, with a full life ahead.”
“So are you.”
He shook his head with such vehemence, that she stepped away. “I’m certainly not innocent and I feel as if I’ve lived the lifetimes of two men. There is nothing for me ahead that will atone for my sins, no home for me. I do not deserve one. I live my life in the shadows. And that is where I belong now.” He clasped her hand yet more firmly. “But not you. Not you.”
They’d shifted closer and she lifted her face to his. He stroked away a strand of hair that had escaped her veil. His eyes didn’t stray from hers, searching her eyes as if for an answer. She knew what answer she wanted to give him, whatever the question. She lifted her lips to his.
Suddenly Galien stepped away, letting her hand fall. She frowned until the muffled pounding of running feet through the meadow penetrated her fogged brain and she turned to see a boy, running full tilt towards them, calling out for Galien.
“Over here, lad!” Galien called out.
The boy skidded to a halt in front of them, panting. “The Abbess wants you, Father Galien, and you Lady Melisende.”
“What is it?”
The boy shrugged. “Someone has arrived. A man, muddied and travel weary. ’Tis all I know. The Abbess said you must both come to her. At once,” he puffed. “She has urgent news.”
Chapter 6
Galien took her hand, regardless of propriety, and they ran along the sun-baked path between fields of waving golden barley. Neither spoke. Melisende, because she feared the worst, that Galien’s enemies had discovered him.
Within minutes they were inside the Abbess’s chamber, awaiting her presence. Melisende stood by the door, watching Galien as he gazed out the window, as if searching for his enemies, his hand placed where his sword should be. A beam of light filtered through the precious glassed window. It created a warmth to his dark hair, a red aura that looked as if it would burn her fingers if she were to follow her desire and rake her fingers through it, tugging at it to make him turn to her.
She took a deep shuddering breath, both in awe of her feelings for this man, and in case her worst fears had been realized. She turned to see the Abbess had quietly entered and had been watching her with her usual piercing gaze.
“Be seated.” Melisende sat but Galien paced, obviously ill at ease. The Abbess took her place in the elaborately carved chair facing them. “My messenger says the King’s men ransacked a priory yesterday, taking all of its treasures.”
“But how can the King justify such robbery?”
“He uses the Interdict as an excuse for his thieving. But that is not the only problem here. As you know, I’ve taken steps to hide the bulk of our treasure, leaving only enough to allay suspicion. We will be safe from harm. But I believe it’s Sir Galien they want and they won’t stop until they’ve found him. They’re simply taking the opportunity to ransack the religious houses as they search.” She turned to Melisende. “No doubt you have guessed that Sir Galien is not a priest. It was a necessary ruse to try to protect him but the time for secrecy is over. Sir Galien is wanted by the King because he killed the King’s great friend and adviser.”
Melisende gasped. She knew he’d killed a man but not someone as important as this.
“How close are they?” Galien asked.
“They are not upon as yet.”
“Then when?” Galien stopped pacing, but did not sit.
“They will be here soon enough and I have found no means of getting you to France without arousing suspicion. The next safe boat doesn’t arrive at Blakeney for another week.”
He strode in front of Melisende to face the Abbess, head on. “It does not matter. Even if it arrived this day, I will not leave you, and your priory”—he glanced at Melisende—“and all your people in danger! I will stay and fight. You need protecting.”
“Believe me, Sir Galien, we have all the protection we need. There is nothing you can do for us here. In fact we will be treated worse if it’s discovered we’ve been harbouring you. You must leave for all our sakes. But by what means, is the question.”
Fear pushed Melisende into speaking. “But surely there must be a boat that can be commandeered?”
“None that I can find.”
“But, another priory? Or mayhap one of my sisters will know of a safe place where Sir Galien could hide until the danger is passed.”
“We have no time and ’tis too risky to make such public enquiries. I can find no way out of this. All the time Sir Galien is in England, he runs the risk of discovery and being hung as a traitor.”
Melisende gasped. Hung! The word clung to her mind, not letting go. She felt sick as her gaze met Galien’s. He seemed to sense her unspoken terror and tried to smile, but the grim reality clung to his lips and didn’t reassure her. She swallowed and turned back to the Abbess.
“There is a way.” Melisende’s voice was calm despite the thunderous beat of her heart. She was about to sacrifice her future for Galien. But there could be no going back now. She cleared her throat. “I know of a way. I can arrange a boat to take Sir Galien to France.”
Chapter 7
Confronted with two shocked expressions, Melisende drew in a sharp breath and clenched her fists, as if about to engage in battle. For too long she’d kept her secrets from the woman she loved as a mother, and it took every ounce of her courage to face her now and reveal her duplicity.
“There is a ship due at Blakeney Point two evenings hence.”
“A ship?” The Abbess’s face was filled with confusion. “What know you of ships?”
Melisende could feel the tainted blush of sin rise into her face. “The medicines, the cloth, the things that can no longer be purchased here, that I bring to you…”
“Yes. You get them from Tom in the village.” The Abbess looked at Galien to explain. “Tom is part of a group of smugglers to whom the priory is greatly indebted. He and others in the smuggling ring run great risks to obtain the woad, myrrh and other medicines we need from France. And I must admit I have turned a blind eye to them selling surplus woad to market. The money earned has been invaluable to our community.” She turned back to Melisende. “So you think Tom will be able to help us find a boat?”
Melisende held her lips firmly to stop them from trembling. “Tom is in my employ. ’Tis an arrangement I continued after I left Gresham Castle. My sister and father have… certain arrangements with merchants regarding exports forbidden by the King to countries he considers to be enemies. I have used the same contacts to import a few necessary medicines… and such,” she trailed off, trying not to think of the expensive Gascon wine she also brought to the priory.
The Abbess walked up to Melisende and placed her hands on her shoulders. “It’s been you, all along? I knew of course that you procured the goods through Tom, but I assumed you knew not of whence they came.” She shook her head and uttered a noise that might have been a laugh if it hadn’t been controlled so quickly. “I might have known that such an effective smuggling ring would have a fearless and clever leader.” She sighed and her frown cast Melisende back into fear. “But, Melisende, you have been disobedient of the laws in the priory. Of my laws.”
She nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“But”—interjected Galien, stepping between them—“my lady, surely Melisende has also saved lives. The
re must be some credit in that, to offset her sins?” Melisende glanced at Galien who she could see was trying not to laugh. She struggled to prevent her lips from twisting into an answering smile.
The Abbess looked from one to the other of them and shook her head and sat down wearily in her chair once more. “I hope you understand you are ever further from your wish to become a nun, with this revelation?”
Melisende nodded again. There was nothing she could say in her defence. She’d been knowingly flouting the priory’s laws for years, reasoning to herself that it was for the good of the priory. But now she realized with precise clarity that she’d enjoyed it. She’d enjoyed the thrill, the adventure, while all the while pretending she was doing it for a higher purpose.
The Abbess glanced at Galien who stood looking at Melisende in unabashed admiration. “Then I think I understand.” She rubbed her fingers against her lips thoughtfully. “Is there somewhere where Sir Galien can hide until tomorrow night when the boat arrives? He must leave the priory as soon as possible.”
Melisende nodded. “There’s an old fishing cottage, far out in the marshes, known only to a few.”
The Abbess shook her head, her expression showing both impressed amazement and incredulity. “How do you know of this place?”
“It belongs to Tom’s family. We’ve been forced to use it to hide from the excise men from time to time. It’s comfortable enough. They keep it well, for Tom’s father is old. There’s little there but a pallet and other necessaries. But it’ll keep Sir Galien well hidden.”
“And you’re sure it’s safe? That no-one will talk?”
“Very sure. I’ve known these people since I was a child.”
The Abbess shook her head in disbelief. “Melisende, I thought I knew you and yet I knew none of this. How did you come to know such people so well?”
Melisende shrugged. “Growing up, they were my only friends. It was easier that way, mixing with the villagers, rather than risk my father’s anger. My father, well, he… preferred my absence.”
Seducing His Lady: Novella (Norfolk Knights Book 2) Page 4