They stopped halfway to Oakley, sitting outside an alehouse to eat and rest, and even Adam brightened when it became apparent that the serving wench welcomed his advances. It was a merry group who arrived at Oakley some three hours later. However, as they clattered into the bailey, Isabella saw Maude standing amidst total chaos. Men and beasts milled around, coffers were being unloaded, maids and squires were scurrying hither and yon, and the general hubbub was nearly deafening. Maude rolled her eyes at their arrival and held up her hands exasperatedly as she moved towards them.
Giles dismounted, striding over to Maude who wore a frown instead of a smile of greeting. Isabella waited in vain for him to return and help her down. She could hear Maude’s raised tones and Giles’ annoyed response but could not make out what they were saying. Giles scowled in the direction of the manor and, kissing Maude, returned to his wife with drawn brows and a grim set to his mouth. Isabella lifted one delicate eyebrow in question; Giles’ scowl grew blacker.
“We cannot stay. Maude’s entire family have arrived unannounced. They are packed to the rafters; Maude is seething, and Ralph has managed to disappear himself.”
Isabella felt the colour draining from her face. Twisting to speak to Giles as he remounted, she asked in tones as cold as death if that meant they would be going straight to court.
“No, sweeting, I will not take you there yet. Any time spent at court will feel overlong; I think neither of us would find pleasure it. We’ll try the abbey first. I would have had to pay my respects to Abbess Hildegarde while we were at Ralph’s anyway, so we may as well seek lodging there. I know you wished to have Maude with us, but, in truth, I think you would not appreciate the company of her family. It’s not something I’ve enjoyed myself, and even Maude would prefer for them not to be here. Her overbearing father and his cantankerous wife alone are enough to drive a man to the nearest alehouse. Add her brother and that stiff-necked wife of his, and that would be the furthest alehouse.” He turned to see Adam coming towards him. “Adam, do you wish to spend time with your family? If so, I give you leave to remain.”
The young man’s horrified face raised a smile even from Isabella. “No, my lord, I do not. Enough that I pay them my duty visits; I do not wish to spend more time with them than necessary, I thank you.”
Doubtless, his father’s watch and that of his older brother would curtail his pleasures even more than Giles. And neither of the women were any pleasure to be with. Despite his irritation with the young man, Giles felt some sympathy with him. He nodded. His main concern now was for his wife, and at least, since Beatrice was not of their party, Bella would not have that to fret over.
As the group turned and left the manor behind them, he moved forward to ride beside Isabella. She turned a white face up to him, and he felt a surge of irritation. It had been so pleasant earlier; now, she had retreated back into her shell again. Damn and blast. He smiled into her worried face. “Don’t fret, sweeting. I promise we shall not stay at court beyond a day and a half. Trust me to take a good care of you.”
She nodded, her heart sinking. He would fully intend to keep his word, but she knew how it would go. Within the hour of their arrival, he would be jostled from her, and that snake, John, would doubtless soon find her to torment. She gritted her teeth into the semblance of a smile, took a deep breath and tried to find comfort in the fact that it would not be for long.
CHAPTER FOUR
Shannon started and looked up, alarmed, as a horse suddenly reined in beside her. Stupid! She should have been more aware of her surroundings. She must have heard them, surely, but only on a subconscious level. Too late to conceal herself and let them ride by; she'd have to brazen it out.
The rider was male, tall, well-built with a neat black beard, holding a small boy up in front of him, who waved a chubby fist. Behind him, a woman gazed at her in concern. Following were others – some of them knights, she thought, and some other men, plus a couple more women, which made her feel safer. Surely, with them there, she was in no danger. She swallowed nervously as the black-bearded man stared down at her with an unreadable expression before saying, "Demoiselle, what do you here alone? May we assist you?"
Shannon was wary. Her ankle was painful and the abbey still far enough away to make her glad of help, but could she carry this off? Would they know she was odd as soon as she opened her mouth? Oh well, now was the time to find out. “My lord, my lady.” She inclined her head in what she imagined to be a gracious manner. Better not try to curtsy, but maybe she could bob a bit. “My ankle. I turned it. I’m on my way to visit my aunt, the Abbess.” That should sound reasonable. She crossed her fingers and hoped they wouldn’t pursue the fact that she was unaccompanied. Maybe if she could squeeze out a tear, they would be so busy trying to help, they’d forget the rest. She pressed her eyelids together and, thankfully, found she could manage just enough moisture to wet her lashes.
The man on the large horse stared at her hard, almost as though he was searching for something. “Demoiselle, have we met before? You seem vaguely familiar to me.”
“No, sir.” She shook her head. It was hardly likely, was it?
He nodded, still with a slightly puzzled air, saying, “If you will allow, we can at least help you to the abbey.” Then, he turned to a younger man with chestnut hair shot through with hints of red, and luminous green eyes which twinkled at her now. “Adam, take the lady up behind you; she may travel with us.”
Adam grinned. “It would be my great pleasure, Mistress.”
Shannon looked at him doubtfully; she had no idea how to get up behind him. Her problem was solved when he called, “Eustace!” and a strapping lad dismounted and came over to her. Before she had time to realise what was happening, he grasped her around the waist, lifting her with more ease than she thought was possible, to sit behind Adam, who twisted in the saddle to slide an arm about her.
Casting her a glance that made her blush, he steadied her until she had her balance. Then, he released her, saying, “Hold tight, Mistress, we’ll go slowly so you’re not jolted.”
Shannon, still flushed with embarrassment, sat bolt upright, not allowing herself to lean against his back. Should she hold him round the waist or not? The problem was solved when the horse started to move again. She felt herself slip and automatically looped her fingers around his belt, gripping tightly. He turned and gave her a flirtatious wink. She grinned back; she couldn’t help it. Some things never changed, it seemed.
The woman rode up beside her. “Mistress, I am the Lady Isabella. We also are on our way to the abbey. I look forward to spending a little time with you whilst we are there, since you are kin to our dear Abbess. My husband will have much to do, and it will be pleasant to have your company, if you so wish.”
Shannon nodded. Isabella eyed her with compassion. “Forgive me, you are in pain. We’ll speak later.” Smiling again, she moved her horse away and returned to her husband who tilted his head towards her as though in conversation.
The ride was not comfortable; Shannon’s ankle stabbed with pain each time the horse jogged it, which was often, and her mind was going in circles. She’d expected not to have much need for speech until she had met Hildegarde and explained herself. This was not going according to plan. She needed to get her mind geared up to the twelfth century, and fast. First off, how did she address these people? ‘My lord’ and ‘my lady’ was perhaps safest. Isabella was friendly enough. What about Adam? What was he? She peeked at his heels – he was wearing spurs. Did that make him a knight? What about the older man? He appeared to be in charge. Maybe he was a baron or something. It had seemed so easy when she imagined how it would be, but it really wasn’t. And she was here now, at least until she could get back to the tree.
Oh well, her prosaic nature kicked in. She’d wanted a change, and she’d certainly got one. She’d get by. Oh, come on, Shannon, she told herself. It’ll be fun. It’s just a bit awkward to start with. On the plus side, you’re making friends already. She couldn�
�t call herself Shannon, though; she’d better be Rohese from now on.
Hildegarde was sitting in silent contemplation. She loved the Whitsuntide rituals; they spoke to her so clearly of the coming of the Holy Spirit. The rites of this century were so much more evocative than those of her original time. Today, she was still feeling the rapture of the previous day, her heart swelling with private praise to the One she loved above all others.
When a soft tapping came at the door, she jumped, but her frown at the disturbance turned to a smile as Sister Prioress poked her head around the door followed by Giles de Soutenay. Her delight increased as his wife entered hesitantly behind him.
Rising to her feet, she held out both hands in greeting. “Sir Giles, Lady Isabella!” She moved towards them, ready words of welcome on her tongue. Before she could utter them, Giles spoke.
“My Lady Abbess, we crave your indulgence and also a chamber for a few days.” Hildegarde opened her mouth again but, before she could say anything, Giles continued, “And, Abbess, we bring a surprise for you, for we encountered your niece on our journey.”
Hildegarde stopped in her tracks. “My…?” She had seldom found herself speechless, but as she met the worried face of the young woman who was limping silently into the room, she trailed off in confusion.
“Aunt Hildegarde?” The girl gave her a look of desperate entreaty. Hildegarde read the unvoiced plea in her eyes and responded instinctively.
“Truly, Sir Giles, a surprise indeed. As you see, I am…quite lost for words.” She took the young woman’s hands in her own and led her to a padded settle in the window alcove.
“Sit you there, child, whilst I speak with Sir Giles and Lady Isabella.” She gave her a repressive look. “We have much to catch up on.” Hildegarde turned to the nun who hesitated by the door, as though she would like to be invited to linger. “Sister Prioress, my thanks. Pray, bid Sister Joan prepare a chamber for my niece, if you would be so kind.”
Thus dismissed, the Prioress had no choice but to turn away, disappointment and frustration writ clear on her face.
Hildegarde turned to her guests once more. “Sir Giles, we have your chamber prepared, as always, and there is room aplenty in the guest-hall for your household. Allow me to escort you.” She turned then, addressing the girl on the settle. “Stay you here, child; I shall return shortly.”
Left alone, Shannon saw a small stool. She limped over, pulled it to the settle and sat down again, resting her injured foot on the stool, for it was hurting quite badly by now. She screwed up her face partly from the pain, partly from annoyance. Only she would have managed to damage herself before her time here had even started. She bet Chloe wouldn’t have been so clumsy.
She stared about her, a cold dread replacing the thrill she had felt when she had woken a few hours earlier. This was a mistake; she couldn’t cut it here. But here she was, and until she could get to the beech, here she must stay.
No! She wasn’t going back. She would have her adventure. And her ankle would probably heal quickly. It wouldn’t spoil things. She shook her head, determined. She wouldn’t let it. She’d rest up for a couple of days which would give her time to suss the people out and get her act together.
Hildegarde, returning to her chamber, took one look at the whey-faced girl in front of her, and a dim light began to flicker in her brain along with an unwelcome idea, which she quickly dismissed – ridiculous! “And now, my child,” she said gravely as she sat beside her on the settle, “perhaps we had better start at the beginning. Pray, tell me your name and who you are, for,” she paused, “I have no niece.”
“My name is Shannon, and you are my aunt – sort of.” Hildegarde’s face was expressionless; Shannon leaned towards her. “You are! My mother’s name is Marion.”
Hildegarde’s jaw actually dropped as the name registered. “Ma…Marion?” she said faintly. Now, she knew why the face seemed familiar.
“Yes, and you are my aunt. You’re my Grandma Ann’s cousin.”
“Child, that would make me your cousin, not an aunt, but that is immaterial. What are you doing here?”
“Mum was ill; she couldn’t come. She asked me to deliver–”
“Shannon,” Hildegarde cut in sharply, “did your mother ask you to deliver them in person? Truly?”
The girl blushed and fidgeted. “Er…”
“No, I thought not. In fact, I feel sure your mother gave you strict instructions not to come here.”
Shannon’s mouth turned down. If Hildegarde hadn’t been so horrified, she would have found it comical. “So, child, what maggot came into your head? Why did you come? I doubt not you had your reasons, so, since you’ve named me your aunt, treat me as an aunt, and tell me all.”
Shannon moved closer to Hildegarde and drooped, her head resting on her hands. “Oh, Auntie!”
Hildegarde, still slightly in shock, patted her shoulder, and Shannon started her tale. Hildegarde frowned in sympathy as she heard about Marion, and then, Shannon gave a gasp and a sob and poured out the rest of it, ending with, “So you see, I had to get away. I was so miserable, and everyone would have pitied me; I couldn’t bear it.”
As the tears poured down Shannon’s cheeks, Hildegarde passed her a large kerchief saying with a smile, “I have brought a few inventions forward. I simply could not imagine life without these.” Then she sat quietly, waiting for the storm to pass. Once the weeping had eased into a few sniffs, she spoke again. “But child, you cannot stay here; you must return. You know that.”
“I know I can’t stay long, but, oh, Auntie H, please, oh please, just let me stay a couple of weeks. Please.”
Hildegarde steepled her hands and closed her eyes in thought, then, “Shannon, do you have any idea of the dangers?”
Shannon’s lips compressed. “Not if I stay here with you, Auntie H, surely? And…and…I can’t go back yet, I just can’t.” She narrowed her eyes, and a mutinous expression settled on her face. “I won’t.”
Hildegarde was stunned in the face of Shannon’s intransigence. It had been thirty years and more since she had been in contact with modern young women, apart from the odd wanderer. She was, once again, lost for words. She gazed steadily into Shannon’s eyes. Shannon glared back unrepentant, but slowly the mulish look dropped from her face.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Hildegarde. I was rude. But, please, let me stay. I won’t go back, so please let me stay here.”
Hildegarde couldn’t resist her pleading. Besides, if Shannon would not return home, she could not be left to wander the countryside. A thought struck her. “Shannon, where does Marion think you are now?”
Shannon shifted in her seat, a flush starting from the depths of her wimple and rising to her veil. “Er, she thinks I’m in France with my friends.”
“I see. And will she not be expecting to hear from you while you are away?” She hadn’t thought the girl could be any more uncomfortable; now, Shannon was practically squirming.
“I told her she won’t be able to contact me where we are.”
“And do you not think that would worry her? I know of your allergy, Shannon.”
“No. She thinks I’m with my friend, Dani. Mum trusts her. Dani knows exactly what to do if I get stung.”
Hildegarde tapped her teeth with one fingernail. “Shannon, you did bring your injector, did you not?”
“Of course I did. And a spare. I never take any chances.”
“Except for the fact that we cannot get you to hospital should you be stung here.”
Shannon leaned forward, her face earnest. “Honestly, I know they always say get to a hospital, but the couple of times it’s happened to me, my injector was enough. Hospital is only a precaution for me. And that was when I was a kid. I haven’t been stung for years. You never know, I might have even grown out of it by now. Besides, it’s only for a little while. How often have you been stung in your life? How about the nuns? Do they get stung often?”
She has me there, thought Hildegarde, but wait.
“Shannon, were you aware we keep beehives here?”
For a moment, Shannon looked taken aback before rallying with, “Yes, but how often have you been stung?”
Hildegarde admitted defeat, and her lips curved into a reluctant smile. “I must confess, most of my nuns have never been stung, and neither have I. Very well; however, you must stay well away from the beehives. Do you have a portable phone thing such as your mother carried?”
Shannon nodded.
“Then, show me how to use it, and let us say that, if the worst happens, I inject you, get you back through the tree as fast as I can and phone for an ambulance.”
Shannon’s grin lit up the room. She got unsteadily to her feet and threw her arms about Hildegarde. “Oh, thank you, thank you. I’ll behave, I promise. And see, here's my mobile. You can keep it with you.” She rummaged in the pouch at her side, pulled out her mobile, turned it on and a cacophony of noise jangled out. Hildegarde jumped.
“Shannon, can we turn it down? I can explain many things to my nuns, but that…that appalling din may be beyond even my capabilities.”
“Oops, sorry, yes.” She put the phone in front of Hildegarde. “It won’t work here – at least I shouldn’t think it will – so you can’t practise. This is what you do.”
Hildegarde studied the screen in front of her, trying to commit the instructions to memory. She just hoped it wouldn’t be needed. “Very well, let me try. So, I press this, then this? Yes, I think I have it. Now, give it to me, and I shall keep it. If you get stung and I am not by you, send someone to find me urgently.”
“Okay.”
“And now, I think we need to provide you with a background. What have you told Sir Giles and Lady Isabella?”
A Promise to Keep (Out of Time Book 2) Page 3