“Yes?”
“The young maiden, Annabel, has revealed some important information to you, I believe.”
The coroner blinked, his face suddenly alert and trained on Ranulf. “Indeed.”
“Under distress, she has divulged that she saw what happened to the bailiff and the person responsible.”
“True.”
“But she did not betray the person who struck the bailiff, whether accidentally or intentionally, though she claims it was accidental.”
“That is correct.”
“Now, it would be important to you, would it not, to find out the identity of this person?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Since I would prefer that no one harass or harm my servant, I ask that you not breathe a word of what she has told you, or insinuate that she knows aught. Meanwhile, I shall try to extract the information from her myself.”
Sir Clement’s eyes narrowed. “I see.” He looked away, staring out the window at the gray mist.
It had been a chilly day. Autumn was getting nearer, and the rain, which had been so scant for a year, had been threatening to fall all day.
“You are right to try to protect her this way.” Sir Clement turned on his heel. “But the truth must come out, and if you’re unable to extract it from her, I’m afraid I shall be forced to ask the jury to question her.”
So he was agreeable to the plan. “Of course, Sir Clement. I understand.”
Sir Clement crossed his arms in front of his chest and a strange smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Why don’t you just marry the girl, Ranulf? She’s of age.”
Ranulf swallowed hard. When he was able to speak, he asked, “What do you mean?”
“She’s a lovely one and would make a sweet wife.”
His face went hot. “I don’t wish to discuss this with you.”
“Oh, come, Ranulf. I mean no harm. We’re old friends and should be able to speak freely with one another. Unburden yourself. My lips are secure, you know. Why don’t you marry her?”
“She doesn’t love me, and it’s none of your business.” He didn’t care if his voice sounded gruff.
“How do you know that? She’s a kindhearted girl. She’d come to love a good man like you.”
“Like me?” Ranulf felt the ire rising in his throat and spun away from Sir Clement, staring now at the shadowed wall and trying to calm himself before he said things he would later regret. “I do not wish to marry again.”
In a suggestive voice, the coroner responded, “I suppose you wouldn’t have to marry her.”
Ranulf turned and glared at Sir Clement. “Sir, you are determined to anger me.”
“Nay, nay.” Sir Clement smiled and shook his head. “Forgive me. My task makes me prone to say the very thing that will elicit the most information. Forgive me, my friend. I am merely trying to understand.”
“Understand this. Annabel doesn’t love me and isn’t interested in men or marriage. And I will never again marry a woman who doesn’t love me.”
Sir Clement’s face sobered. He pursed his lips in a frown. “I do understand.”
Yes, he surely did. The rumors had spread far and wide about how the young lord’s beautiful bride had scorned him for the company of the third son of a baron, whom she’d been in love with before she agreed to marry Ranulf. Everyone had known of her affair — except Ranulf. Once they were married, she made no secret that she despised his scars and didn’t love him. At first he believed he could win her heart — and then he’d caught them together.
And what had she done then? Laughed.
His gut twisted at the memory.
“But I think you are wrong about one thing.”
Ranulf looked at him wearily. “And that is?”
“You said Annabel wasn’t interested in men.” He tapped his chin with his finger and watched him. “Most men, perhaps, but … she trusts you.”
“All my servants trust me.” A flicker of hope ignited inside him. I am a fool.
“But not all your servants look at you the way she does, I’ll vow.”
Sir Clement hadn’t seen the way she’d looked at Ranulf when he embraced her after the viper frightened her. She’d looked horrified, repulsed. She did come into his arms willingly enough this morning. But she doesn’t love me.
The coroner tapped his chin again. Abruptly, he turned to face Ranulf. “I will do as you have asked and not speak of what Annabel knows. And I will expect to hear that you have found out the mysterious attacker’s identity.”
“Of course.”
Annabel tried to avoid Lord le Wyse’s gaze at supper, but she knew she would need to change his bandage after the meal was over. Once the table was cleared, she took the honey flask and bandages and waited beside his chair. He waved her to a stool and she sat.
She concentrated on unwrapping the bandage while Lord le Wyse listened to Sir Clement and Gilbert Carpenter speak about the problems caused by the recent drought.
Her fingers fumbled with the sticky bandage more than usual, but his burn once again showed no signs of becoming worse. She began to wipe his arm with a wet cloth and bit her lip in consternation at the way her hand trembled. What was wrong with her?
Annabel cleaned his arm as quickly as she could. As before, she encountered an old scar leading up to his burn. She knew the scar was from the wolf attack several years before, when he was only a youth. How brave he had been …
She found Lord le Wyse watching her, but his expression seemed guarded.
She was almost finished with the task. Sir Clement stood. “Gilbert, could you take me to see how your building is coming along?”
Gilbert Carpenter rose and followed him out. Mistress Eustacia, the last person left in the upper hall, slipped out the door after them. Wondering why they had all left her conspicuously alone with her lord, she finished wrapping his burn, tying the bandage in place.
Lord le Wyse said nothing. She tried to avoid looking at his face, but she felt him watching her as she gathered all the bandages and supplies and began putting them away on a shelf nearby.
Would he want her to read to him tonight? When he didn’t say anything, she picked up the bucket of scraps from their evening meal and turned to take them outside.
“Don’t go.” Lord le Wyse laid a hand on her wrist. “Stay and read.”
He removed his hand as she set down the bucket. Why wouldn’t her heartbeat slow? Her wrist still tingled pleasantly from where he’d placed his hand.
She waited as he pulled the most comfortable chair near the fire and nodded at her to sit. He retrieved the large Bible from the chest behind the screen and laid it in her lap. Annabel shivered.
“Are you cold?” Lord le Wyse’s forehead creased.
She shook her head but wrapped her hands around her arms.
“Are you feeling ill? If you don’t wish to read tonight —”
“Nay, I’m well. I do wish to read.” At that moment, she wanted to read the Holy Scriptures more than anything in the world.
He turned and disappeared behind the screen. When he came back he carried a brightly colored blanket with silk embroidery. She could only watch as he took the book from her lap with one hand and laid it on the table then unfolded the blanket and spread it over her. He retrieved the Bible and placed it back in her lap.
Annabel was surrounded now with the scent of the blanket, her lord’s own scent of lavender and warm masculinity. “Thank you.”
She wanted to look at him but didn’t trust herself. Instead, she opened the Holy Writ and turned to the section she had marked the last time they read by placing a feather between the pages. It was Romans chapter eight, and she began to read. “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free.”
She sighed and relaxed into the chair, feeling warm and safe.
Chapter
15
Ranulf’s heart seemed
to beat slower as he listened to Annabel read verses from the letter to the Romans, even though he was only able to concentrate on the words in snatches. He knew he needed to tell Annabel of his plan to send her away to the abbey, and Sir Clement had left them alone so she would reveal who struck the bailiff, but he couldn’t do it. He would do it tomorrow, but right now … he couldn’t justify it, but he simply needed to be with her, to hear her read.
In the morning he would find some way to coax her into telling him who threw the rock. Once he had that information, he could send her away quietly, thus fulfilling her wish and keeping her safe at the same time.
“… Now if we are children, then we are heirs — heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.”
Father God, let my sufferings not be for nothing. And don’t let Annabel suffer any longer. Help her realize none of this is her fault. Protect her.
His chest ached at the thought of sending her away, but he wouldn’t think about that tonight. Besides, she wanted to go. It was her wish to devote herself to a life of prayer, study, and service. If he could do nothing else for her, he could give her this wish.
“… And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”
She stopped after reading that verse and stared at the page.
“Annabel? What are you thinking?”
“I was just thinking about all these things that have been happening lately and wondering how God could work them out for our good.”
He waited for her to go on.
“You didn’t deserve to have your arm burned. How could that be a good thing? Or the grain crops getting burned up, or Sir Clement’s questions … How could all that be good?” She shook her head and looked down. “I suppose I shouldn’t say such things.”
“It doesn’t say it’s all good. It only says that God works in all things for the good of those who love him.”
She seemed to think for a moment. “Do you love God, my lord?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then I suppose we must believe that all this can be, and will be, worked out for your good.”
“And for your good.”
“Yes.” She seemed afraid to look at him tonight. Had he frightened her that much when he held her in his arms this morning? She hadn’t seemed repulsed by him, had laid her cheek against his chest … but then she’d seemed to realize what she was doing and ran away.
Finally, she did glance up at him, but her gaze darted around so that she never looked him in the eye. “God wouldn’t want us to disbelieve him,” she whispered. “So we must believe it will all … be well in the end.” She sighed.
He reached out, on impulse, and grabbed her hand. “It will be well. I promise.” He squeezed her fingers and let go.
Staring down at her hand, she nodded. After another minute, she continued to read, her voice shaky.
The next morning Ranulf found Annabel in the kitchen. It has to be done. “Will you take a walk with me?”
She looked startled, even a little afraid, but she nodded and laid aside the bread dough she was patting into a loaf, wiping her hands on her apron. Mistress Eustacia gave Annabel a look that made him wonder what they had been talking about.
She followed as he strolled toward the clearing where the work was going on for his new home. After several moments of silence, she asked, “How is the construction of your castle coming along?”
“Castle? Is that what you call it?” He smiled in amusement. “I suppose it must look like a castle, but castles are fortresses for the politically ambitious. This house won’t be built for defense. If someone wishes to do me harm, I’m afraid they’ll encounter little resistance.”
“Oh.”
“We have finished the foundation. I hope to move in most of the household by All Souls’ Day — which is appropriate, I think.”
All Souls’ Day came almost two months before Christmas, the day when everyone said prayers to help extricate the dead from purgatory. He only hoped by then he could keep his heart out of the purgatory of loving beautiful women who didn’t love him.
As they drew nearer, the clang of the smiths’ hammers rang out, as well as shouts from the various workers. Soon they were able to view the whole scene on the swell of land above them. Carters hauled stone up the hill and up the ramps built along the sides of the walls. Masons laid the stones with mortar while a nearby lime burner made more.
The trenches for the foundation had been dug, the foundation laid, and the walls were rising quickly. Lead workers, carpenters, and roof tilers all performed their various skilled tasks, with laborers assisting, carrying, and fetching.
“Oh.” Annabel stood still, watching the scene with wide eyes. She looked so fascinated, Ranulf couldn’t help but smile.
“What do you think of my ‘castle’?”
“It’s nearly finished!”
“Only the front section. I shall move into it in a few weeks.” And she wouldn’t even be around to see it.
“I can hardly believe how much has been done. They’ve worked quickly, haven’t they?”
“It’s quite an army of men,” Ranulf acknowledged.
It was certainly a stately home, even he had to admit. The stone front rose two full stories, its gray stone formidable. The wooden front door was wide enough for three people abreast, with long, black iron hinges reaching across it. The roof came to a point, and dipped and rose again at the two round towers on either side. Generous glass panes gave it a peaceful look, as no fear of besiegers had dictated the size of the windows. The beauty of it was undeniable, if he did think so himself, and there was much more house to come, extending far to the rear and to the north from the main section.
Annabel was one of the few people from Glynval who had been to London, and so would have seen other buildings — churches and a few castles — to rival its eventual size, but even she seemed impressed.
Ranulf led her to a felled tree in a shady nook where they could observe the builders without being noticed themselves.
He took a deep breath and began, “We are friends, are we not?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You are not an ordinary servant. You’re the daughter of a wealthy merchant.”
“Perhaps at one time, but my father is dead and his ships were all lost. He died a poor man.”
“Nonetheless, you grew up in a wealthy home. You are educated. You learned languages, learned to read and write. You’ve traveled to large cities. None of the other villagers can boast of these things.”
Annabel questioned him with her eyes as she perched on the tree trunk a couple of feet away.
“What I’m trying to say is that there is no one here for you” — he swallowed, having a hard time getting the words out — “for you to marry.” Except me. But he was foolish to even think those words. “And you told me once that you didn’t wish to marry. You wanted to become a nun. Is this still true?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then I shall send you to Rosings Abbey. I know the abbess there. In fact, she is my mother’s sister. I have written to her and expect to receive her reply any day. Does this please you?” He did not allow any emotion to show in his face as he searched hers.
Her expression showed interest — and joy. “Oh, yes, my lord. It pleases me. But are you sure you want to send me away? I was indentured to you for three years. My service has hardly begun.”
Ranulf again had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could speak. “I don’t want to send you away, but I want you to be safe. You see, I will be sending you away in secret. Not even Mistress Eustacia knows my plans. If Sir Clement finds out you are going to an abbey before his investigation is over, he will prevent you.”
“Oh.” Sober-faced, she stared out into the milling worke
rs.
“I wish to help you escape any repercussions from people here in Glynval once they find out you know who struck the bailiff. It is the only way to keep you safe from the jury’s inquest.”
“Won’t Sir Clement come to the abbey and force me to tell what I know?”
“Nay, you will be safe as long as you stay within the walls of the abbey.” He tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs were too tight. “And as for your service to me, you have done more for me in a fortnight than most other servants do in three years.”
She blushed and looked confused. She stared down at her hands fidgeting in her lap.
He wanted to tell her so much more, how she had convicted him of his bitterness toward women and how unjust that had been. She made him realize there were good people in the world. And though it was bittersweet, at least he knew he was no longer dead inside. He couldn’t tell her, but he enjoyed being with her, talking with her, seeing the sincerity of her feelings and the purity of her thoughts. God was obviously alive, alive in her. Hearing her thoughts as they read the Bible together had given him joy he had seldom known before.
Perhaps he should tell her this, but it would only strain their friendship. She would be afraid of him if she knew the depths of his feelings.
He sighed. He’d told her his plan. Now he must fulfill his promise to Sir Clement of trying to pry the identity of the bailiff’s attacker from her.
“Annabel.”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Sir Clement and I know you saw who struck the bailiff. From what you say, he didn’t intend to kill him, but the bailiff still has not regained consciousness. I need you to tell me who you were with that night.”
“How could I hurt him in this way?” She turned toward him, her forehead creased, her eyes pleading with him. “I have no right to keep the information from you, but how can I do such a traitorous thing to a friend who was only trying to defend me from Bailiff Tom?”
Ranulf felt the heat rise up his neck. Once again, he wished he had been the one with her, the one to help her.
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