A Promise to Keep (Out of Time Book 2)

by Loretta Livingstone

  “Mayhap he is meant to be a jongleur.” Isabella chucked him under the chin which made him giggle and dribble some more. He struggled to get down and then, lunged over to his father, where he made a determined grab for the sword lying on the chest.

  “Or, more suitably, a tourney knight,” Giles said languidly.

  Isabella frowned. “I do not wish to think so far ahead, my lord. The idea of him old enough for that chills me.”

  “Well, and he will have no need. He will have enough on his trencher as my heir. And it’s far enough ahead that you may keep this chick safe in the nest a while longer.”

  Dickon grabbed again at the sword, and Giles pulled it from his reach. Before the child could start to wail, Giles took a wafer from a dish on the table and held it out to him. Dickon stretched out a pudgy fist and, securing the object of his desire, thrust it into his mouth. A trickle of honey oozed from the wafer and ran down his chin, and he beamed beatifically as Isabella hurried to wipe it.

  He waved a sticky hand as he crammed the last of the treat between his lips, and his nurse caught at him, cleaning the mess from him quickly before he could besmirch himself and all around him.

  Shannon’s face lit with pleasure as she watched. Dickon saw her attention was on him and beamed. Giles and Isabella laughed, delighted to show off their son.

  The child kept them entertained until the clamour of yet another bell interrupted them, and Hildegarde straightened, righting her veil and habit. “Sir Giles, Lady Isabella, might I leave Rohese with you?”

  “By all means,” Isabella said, lifting Dickon. “Here, Jehane, you take him now.”

  Jehane lifted him from her, tossing the giggling infant high into the air. “Come to Nurse, sweeting.”

  Isabella stood, then tidied her braids and pinned on her veil. “Come, Rohese, shall we walk?” She turned to Giles. “My lord?”

  Giles stretched and looked regretful. “I’m afraid I have things I need to attend to, sweetheart.” Isabella made a moue of disappointment, and Giles relented. “Well, mayhap in a while, we might go riding. What say you, Mistress Rohese? Will you join us?”

  Riding? She fumbled for something to say. “Er, I’m not a very confident rider, and my ankle is still sore. Also, I don’t have a suitable horse.”

  “You would be welcome to ride one of ours when your ankle is less painful; however, I suppose it would not be such a good idea at the moment, especially if you lack confidence. A pity.”

  “Er, yes. Thank you; for now, I’d prefer not to.” She tried a different tack. “I’d much rather not do too much for a little longer anyway, just until my ankle is better.”

  Hildegarde had been hovering in the doorway. “I think Rohese would be better not trying to ride or walk too much for a few more days. If you wish to ride, she may come with me.”

  “Oh no.” Isabella held out her hands. “Indeed not. We shall sit outside, and you can tell me more of Bolohovenia. It will be most interesting, for I have never travelled afar.”

  Giles got to his feet, saying, “I have travelled somewhat, but never to Bolohovenia. Your tales will be of interest, Mistress Rohese. I’m sure you and Isabella will entertain each other well.” He kissed his wife on the cheek. “My love, she will blow your mind with her tales of travelling, for certѐs.”

  Shannon blinked. What? He surely didn’t just say that? She must have misheard.

  Isabella laughed at her confusion. “Ignore him, Rohese. It’s a phrase he likes to use from time to time. I have no idea where he got it from, for I never heard it before I wed him. In truth, it sounds most vulgar. I pray you, do not start using it; your parents will be wroth with us for teaching you.”

  I bet I know where he got it from, though, Shannon thought. It was Mum’s favourite expression, and she’d got it from Gran. Wait till I get home and tell her. It sounded so funny coming from a twelfth century knight. No wonder Isabella laughed.

  Shannon and Isabella spent a pleasant time seated in one of the garths. It hadn’t been too far for Shannon to hobble, supported by her stick and Isabella’s arm. Jehane brought Dickon out, and after a while, several nuns clustered around watching him toddle, pulling flowers up and digging with his fingers in the dirt, until an older nun came and chased them back to their duties. As yet another bell rang, Isabella looked up. “Noon already; time to dine. I confess, I am hungered, though I need to wash my hands first.” She gazed ruefully at them, streaked as they were with mud and dribble. Come to my chamber. But wait, you don’t have your eating knife. Do you wish to fetch it?”

  Shannon was just wondering what to do, when Etheldreda came across the garth. “Mistress, you left these behind.” She held out a pouch with a loop on it, and fastened it to Shannon’s girdle, giving her a wink as she did so. “The Abbess asks if you and Lady Isabella would join her in her chamber for dinner?”

  Isabella dimpled; she had a beautiful smile. Shannon nodded. “Lovely, I’ll just go to my chamber to, er, wash my hands, too. Shall I meet you there?”

  Isabella shook her head. “No Rohese, it will be a shorter walk for you to come with me, and you may lean on me.” She held her arm out, and Etheldreda took Shannon’s other arm. Between them, they helped her hobble to Isabella’s chamber where they sluiced their hands in a laver. Giles returned in time to join them as they went to Hildegarde’s chamber.

  Etheldreda and Ursel also dined with the Abbess. Pottage was served with crusty bread, then trout with almonds and spices followed by a frumenty and some small honey cakes.

  Shannon was surprised at how good everything was. The fare was not sumptuous but still tasty and satisfying.

  It was all washed down with the inevitable wine or ale although, to Shannon’s relief, Hildegarde also offered water, fresh and icy cold, from the well. In response to her slightly worried glance, Hildegarde assured her the water was safe to drink.

  “We have problems with the water in Bolohovenia,” Shannon explained to Isabella, who appeared a little startled. “It was thought, at one time, our wells were the source of disease.” She ignored the bland expression on Hildegarde’s face, guessing the Abbess might be a bit shocked by her lies. And anyway, they aren’t really lies. I’d never drink anything apart from tap or bottled water back home.

  After dining with Hildegarde, Shannon discovered the nuns were expected to rest on their beds for an hour. Invited to do likewise, she shook her head emphatically. A midday nap? No way!

  She and Isabella, who seemed no more inclined to rest than did Shannon, went back outside, without Dickon this time, as Jehane had borne him off, grizzling, to set him in his truckle bed for a while.

  They sat in the herb garden quietly chatting. Then, Isabella stood, dusting her skirts. “I beg your pardon, Rohese. I think it time I took myself back to my chamber. Giles may return shortly, and I must needs speak with him. Will you stay here? Or shall I help you back?”

  Shannon shook her head. “No, I think I’ll remain a while longer.”

  Left alone, she sat in silent contemplation watching the butterflies flit in and out of the herbs and flowers.

  The breeze caught at some blossoms and scattered petals across the garden like confetti. Shannon was lost in her thoughts when a shadow was suddenly cast over her. Looking up, she saw a pair of green eyes laughing down at her. Adam! Her heart beat a little faster, and she was sure she blushed.

  “May I?” He glanced at the space beside her.

  “Please do.” Now, she knew she was blushing; her cheeks felt as though they were on fire. She looked down but not before she had seen him quirk his lips as though he was aware of her discomfort.

  “I wondered what had happened to you. You sort of vanished yesterday, almost like a ghost,” she said, and the laugh died out of his eyes.

  “Indeed, Mistress, I apologise. I try to avoid the Lady Isabella; she has no liking for me. She would be angered if she saw me talking with you, and that would make my life difficult.” He was sober now. “She has something against me, and
, besides that, she is a most stiff-necked woman.”

  “Really?” Shannon would have said she was anything but.

  “Indeed, yes; however, it’s naught for you to be concerned about. Merely, it’s more pleasant for me if we do not cross paths. Better, too, if she does not see me speaking with you, for she’ll tell Sir Giles to forbid it. And that would be a shame, would it not?” His mouth curved upwards again, and Shannon looked at him doubtfully.

  “Fear not, Mistress. I will be very circumspect. I confess, I find it most agreeable to spend time with you. You do not mind?”

  “Er, no, I suppose not.” She was having trouble thinking straight; those eyes did something very strange to her. Anyway, he was fun. And, for goodness sake, they were in a public place. And an abbey. She pushed her doubts aside as he pulled a blossom from the late-blooming apple tree and presented it to her. “A fair flower for a fair demoiselle.” Shannon felt herself blushing again but took it from him, laughing.

  “So, tell me about yourself,” he said.

  Shannon smiled. “Only if you tell me about yourself first.”

  “There is naught to tell.”

  She let her disbelief show. “I’m sure there is, and I won’t go first.”

  He grinned ruefully. “Very well, if you must. I am my father’s youngest son; however, our estates are large, and thus I’m well provided for. I’m in Sir Giles’ employ until I come into my inheritance, so for now, I must abide with him.”

  “And do you like working for him? Have you squires? Does he have many knights?” If she could keep him talking, there’d be less time for him to question her about anything. Besides, she was fascinated.

  He held up his hands as though to fend her off. “Mistress, so many questions. Sir Giles is my liege lord for now. He has not many knights, but his brother’s wife is my sister. He is Count John’s man, so my father wished me to be esquired to him, and he it is who sponsored my knighthood. He’s a fair man,” he paused, “when he does not listen to that wife of his. Indeed, I know not why she dislikes me. I fear she poisons his mind against me.”

  Shannon kept a smile on her face and decided she’d make her own mind up about Isabella. Perhaps it was just a personality clash; maybe Isabella and Adam were each jealous of the other’s influence on Giles.

  “Were you with Sir Giles long before he married?”

  “Indeed I was. I have been with him since my twelfth year. Now, I have my own squire – young Thomas. He’s a good lad,” he paused, giving a wry grin. “Well, most of the time.”

  “And does Sir Giles have other knights?”

  “He has three others. All older than I and, if I tell truth, I call them all horse-faced. They don’t laugh much, and I like to laugh. Still, it’s not a bad life. In another year I shall return to my father.” His brow darkened a little. “And then, of course, marriage.”

  Oh, so he’s not free. But I won’t be here then, so why should I care? Anyway, Chloe would tell her there was nothing wrong with flirting, just as long as she didn’t let it get serious. It was just a bit of fun; she tossed her head defiantly.

  “Marriage?”

  “Aye. I’m promised to Alys, yet the lass was only twelve at our betrothal. We will be wed when she reaches her fifteenth year. Even then,” he sighed, “she’ll be but a stranger to me, and little more than a child. I confess, I should prefer a woman. It will be my job to teach her to be a wife. Or at least, my mother’s, for the most part. She’s a most well-born young woman; it will be a good match, though it’s not one I would have chosen.” He looked down, studying his nails, then back up at her. “And you, Mistress? Are you not betrothed?”

  Taken aback, Shannon jerked upright. “No, I… Well, I was; er, he betrayed me.”

  He took her hand. “Demoiselle, he must have been out of his senses. Why would a man turn elsewhere when he had a betrothed so fair?”

  Shannon blushed again. Never having been much of a one for flirting before, she was recovering from her initial discomfort and found herself to be enjoying it. It was fun; in fact, she was discovering it was quite heady.

  “Ah, you must not be embarrassed by my forwardness. I am but a mortal man. I confess, my own senses are in a way to becoming disordered when I look at you.” He let go of her hand and reached to stroke her face, then tweaked her braid from beneath her veil, before dropping it and placing his hand on his heart. Then he stood, kissed her hand and vanished silently again. Shannon was left sitting there, confused and disorientated – though not for long. Hildegarde came walking from the direction of the cloisters, heading towards her. How the heck had Adam known she was there? No wonder he had melted away so quietly.

  “Rohese?” Hildegarde smiled, as Shannon raised her head; the girl appeared to be daydreaming. No matter that she was alone then; she seemed happy enough, and at least she wasn’t getting into mischief. Hildegarde was relieved; when she had seen Isabella in the guest-hall with Sir Giles, she had come hurrying to make sure Shannon was keeping out of trouble.

  Her nuns were clamouring to get started on Shannon’s gown and veils. A new dress would also keep her occupied. “Come with me, child. We need to measure you, and my sisters are most anxious to start their needlework.”

  “Really?” Shannon beamed sunnily back at Hildegarde. “That’s so kind. I didn’t know nuns did things like that.”

  “Indeed they don’t, but they are all accomplished seamstresses; their embroidery is exquisite. Truth to tell, they are looking forward to a change of industry very much.” She laughed inwardly at the memory. “So keen, in fact, I almost had to fight them off. I had more volunteers than you could possibly need for one gown. For certѐs, I may have difficulty restraining them from making more. When they heard how you had been unable to bring your coffers, they were most eager to offer their services.” She looped her arm under Shannon’s, handing her the walking stick. “How fares your ankle? You haven’t walked too far today, have you?”

  “Only when Sister Etheldreda showed me around. I’ve mostly been sitting since then, firstly with Isabella and then…” She tailed off as Hildegarde eyed her suspiciously. “Er, and then, just sitting thinking. The garden is lovely.”

  “Yes, I like it too. I find it a place where I can sense God’s presence most easily.”

  “Mmm.”

  She doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about. Hildegarde resolved to leave something of God, a seed, if you like, in Shannon’s soul before she returned to her own time. I wonder if Marion has any faith.

  “Well, come with me now, and my sisters will measure you. You will forgive them if they are too garrulous.” Which was likely. They were fluttering around the fabrics Magda had bought like moths around a flame, fingering the silks, exclaiming over the fine wools and linens. If I could only hear and not see them, I should never guess they were nuns. They will struggle with the Great Silence tonight. Still, it was seldom they got to work with anything but altar cloths or habits. Hildegarde couldn’t begrudge them a little fun; they were taking such vicarious pleasure in Shannon’s new garments.

  Indeed, several of the nuns who were not involved in the sewing had been tiptoeing into the room, creeping like timid mice, wanting to share in the excitement. Hildegarde had beckoned them in; after all, why should they not partake of such a rare treat? Even Aldith, with her mouth less prim than usual, had undertaken to sew a veil, embroidering sweet violets along the edges with a flourish.

  When Hildegarde ushered Shannon into the room, they almost smothered her, exclaiming, measuring, twittering at her. Hildegarde had to clap her hands to make herself heard.

  “Sisters, calm yourselves, please.”

  When Hildegarde called a halt a couple of hours later, Shannon looked quite wilted. Hildegarde guessed she’d found the nuns more exhausting than she’d expected. Indeed, they had been sweetness itself but had behaved like a gaggle of doting aunties, despite many of them being little older than Shannon.

  “Now, do you wish to eat supper in the
refectory, Rohese? Or are you quite worn out?” Hildegarde’s eyes were twinkling; for her, the afternoon had been most exhilarating.

  “Oh no, I’m fine. It’ll be nice to eat with the others. Will you be joining me there? Or are you eating with the other nuns?”

  “I think, for today, I had better eat with the sisters.” They would need her steadying influence if they were to go to Vespers in the right frame of mind. “I will send Etheldreda to bring you to Vespers.” She held up her hand as Shannon started to look doubtful. “No, do not argue. You need to be seen attending, and it will do you no harm. You may sit at the back and follow the responses. If you’ve ever been to evensong, you may find it not quite so unfamiliar as you expect – except, of course, it will be in Latin.

  “Etheldreda will go through the order with you before you attend and accompany you there. Until she comes to you, you are free to pursue your own amusements, although personally, I would suggest you rest.

  “Supper will be served shortly after Vespers is ended, and again, after that, you will be free, although the abbey and most of the rooms are locked immediately after Vespers, and you’ll find many folk retire.” She grinned suddenly. “If we did not lock the gates then, I suspect some of our guests would retire in a different direction – to the village alehouse – and poor Sister Porteress would be hard put to keep her temper with them when they returned the worse for wear. This way, neither her temper nor our peace is strained beyond limits.

  “After Compline, please try to remember not to speak to the sisters. We are bound by the Great Silence then. Bedtime follows almost immediately. Etheldreda will light your lantern for you before she retires.”

  As they walked, Shannon suddenly realised they were crossing the gardens which led to the guest-chambers. The crafty abbess! She’d virtually seen her to her room before Shannon had realised it. Still, she had to admit, she was weary. Seated on the chair by the window with her foot up, her elbow on the sill, chin on her hand, she watched the comings and goings idly through the window.