A Promise to Keep (Out of Time Book 2)

by Loretta Livingstone

  Father Dominic waved his hands. “Dear lady, I’m convinced our Lord will not desert me. If He takes our visitor safely back to her own time by my hand, of a surety, He will keep me from harm and bring me home.”

  Sister Ursel, who had been listening but saying nothing, chimed in. “And, my lady, if he is unable to return,” she paused, giving Hildegarde a meaningful look, which made Father Dominic regard them both quizzically, “mayhap there is one other who can assist him.

  “Father, let us say that if you have returned safely to our time, you continue on to Sir Ralph and Lady Maude, and from there send a messenger to us. If not, I would suggest you stay by the tree in that other time. If we don’t hear from you by the morning of the day after tomorrow, there is one other who can come to your aid.”

  Father Dominic still appeared puzzled for a moment but was soon lost in his own excitement again and sat rubbing his hands as though he couldn’t wait to get started.

  Hildegarde gave up trying to convince him. She had been prepared for denials and disbelief, for long arduous explanations, not this, and it had caught her by surprise, taking her breath away and leaving her slightly disorientated. The die was cast; nothing she could say now was going to dissuade him. The thing was out of her hands. And Sister Ursel was no help.

  Ursel had noticed her confusion, for she nodded and stepped into the breach. “So it’s settled. Father, we thought to make sure this Hamo would be unable to rise early on the morrow.”

  “You wish me to make him drunk? Hmm, well it may suffice; however, it may be that he would suspect we had diverted him. Now, if we do not wish to leave a trail which would lead back to us–”

  Ursel interrupted. “Those were my own thoughts, too, Father. I have a small nostrum here which, if he were to drink unwittingly, would not just render him senseless tonight, but would also require him to spend a few days in the infirmary. It will do him no harm yet would, for certѐs, give him no desire to be poking his nose into our concerns.”

  Father Dominic’s eyes gleamed as he took the small flask Ursel was holding out, and the pair of them continued with their plans.

  Hildegarde rolled her eyes. These two were natural conspirators, while she was beginning to feel like an amateur. Very well, she would leave the plans to them. Leaning her chin on her hands, she listened in awed fascination as they discussed the best course to take and hoped against hope that all would work out. Now she had started this, there seemed no hope of stopping it. She claimed to believe in miracles – now her faith was to be put to the test.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Hildegarde had not gone back to her bed after Matins, instead slipping silently into Shannon’s chamber. Shannon was in a deep sleep, making no sound except for an occasional small snore. Hildegarde watched her fondly for a moment before placing a hand firmly over Shannon’s mouth to muffle any noise she might make on awakening, which had the immediate effect of making the girl’s eyes open wide with shock.

  Once Shannon was awake sufficiently to understand, Hildegarde removed her hand and, placing her finger to her lips, turned to light Shannon’s horn lantern with the candle she had brought, for it was still dark. First, however, she closed the shutters. There should be no prying eyes about at this time, but just in case, she had no wish for anyone to see flickering lights at the windows.

  She was grateful for the thick stone walls and heavy door that muffled sound so well. Glad, too, she’d had the foresight to choose a room which was set away from the other guest chambers where their wealthy guests slept. Still, they must be quiet.

  Shannon sat bolt upright in bed. Hildegarde bent over her, whispering in her ear, “My dear, the time has come. I’m afraid you must leave now.” Shannon raised her eyebrows. Seeing her expression, Hildegarde prayed silently, Dear Lord, let her not be difficult.

  “What? You mean right now? In the dark? I really wanted to see Giles and Isabella again at least once more, just to say goodbye. What’s the rush?” She put her hand to her mouth, her eyes grown huge with sudden fear. “Auntie, has something happened? Am I in danger?”

  Hildegarde had been hoping to avoid this, yet now, there seemed to be no alternative. “Child, I already told you it was unlikely you would see them again. Were you not listening?”

  “Yes, but I thought just a quick goodbye would be okay–”

  Shannon’s pout was evident, but Hildegarde forestalled any further grumbling. “Well, you will not see Isabella; Giles will have to suffice. The case is now urgent, for it seems Prince John has sent someone here, probably to find out more about you.”

  Shannon paled, her face eerie in the candlelight. “But why? I thought once I’d gone, he’d just find someone else.”

  “Shannon, dear, when you changed into that green gown belonging to Alys, you bore a striking resemblance to your mother, for she wore similar colours when she arrived.”

  “I was like Mum? Really?” Shannon smiled, pleased for a moment, then became more serious as Hildegarde continued.

  “Very like her. And I noticed John watching you. He seemed as though he was trying to remember something. I think you may have sparked off a dim memory of Marion. It may be that he just wants more information about you; nevertheless, we do not wish to take any more risks, I think.

  “Come, Shannon, it’s time to get you back to the future.” She paused, confused, as Shannon suddenly smothered a giggle. “What is it?”

  Shannon’s eyes were creased in merriment. “Nothing, just a topical joke.”

  Hildegarde looked blankly at her, and Shannon sobered again, eyes wide, expression sombre, then said, “Won’t this man see me leave? If he’s a spy, I mean.”

  “No, for we took certain precautions.”

  “You mean you drugged him?”

  Hildegarde repressed a wince. “Not exactly. However, he’s been taken care of.”

  “What if someone else sees me leave?”

  “No one will be aware of you, for Giles and Isabella will be leaving then. There will be so much bustle just before Prime, no one will notice if you leave at the same time.”

  “You mean I’m going with them? So I will see them. Won’t the others realise I’m there?”

  “You will be leaving with them, certainly, but I promise you, you will be quite unrecognisable, even should anyone see you, which I very much doubt. You will be riding behind Father Dominic.”

  Shannon gawped. “Father Dominic? You’re kidding me!”

  Hildegarde smiled. “Yes, I was surprised too. It seems our priest is a man of adventure and action who has no difficulty in accepting the most unlikely of truths. I very much fear he has read too many stories. You know how fantastic medieval tales are.”

  “Well! I’d never have believed it! And he’ll take me to the tree?”

  “Indeed. Now, how is your ankle?”

  Shannon put her foot gingerly to the ground, gasping as she tried to stand. Hildegarde passed her a crutch. “What if you use this?”

  She tried again, getting cautiously to her feet, leaning heavily on it. “I can just about stand. I don’t think I could walk far without help though.” She sat down again, her forehead furrowed. “What am I going to do? My mobile’s dead. The tree’s too far away from the road or the abbey. I might have to wait hours before anyone comes near enough for me to call for help.”

  “Which is where Father Dominic comes in.”

  Shannon stared at Hildegarde, baffled.

  “It seems, child, Father Dominic would fit well between the pages of any tale of adventure. He is not only willing to help you, he’s bound and determined none else shall. In fact, he’s positively champing at the bit. I’ll admit, I’m quite shocked to discover how excited he is; I have clearly underestimated him.”

  “You’re having me on! Seriously?”

  “I confess, I found it hard to accept also. Yet, believable or not, it’s true, so Father Dominic will escort you through the beech tree and wait with you whilst you obtain assistance. Will it be possib
le for your mother to collect you? Will she have recovered from her surgery?

  “Well, she should be, though actually, I’d rather get a taxi. Then, she won’t even need to know where I’ve been.” Shannon gave Hildegarde a challenging look. “She doesn’t need to know, right?”

  Hildegarde would have preferred Shannon to be open but could see her point. “Very well,” she conceded. “And now, I have an outfit that I have purloined from our charity chest. It’s perfectly clean.” She held out a dark brown tunic and Shannon’s own grey undershift. Shannon, as she expected, wrinkled her nose. Hildegarde gazed back impassively. “Do you wish to be unrecognisable?”

  “Oh, all right then. And I suppose I have to wear my wimple?”

  “Certainly, and we will cover it with this hood.” She held out a wrinkled thing in beige with a short liripipe. Shannon screwed up her face again but took it. “And don’t forget to wear whatever you came in beneath it. I was worried the good Father might be shocked; however, I do believe he will even take modern fashion in his stride. The man was born to be a time traveller.”

  Shannon giggled quietly. “He’s not Doctor Who in disguise, is he?”

  Hildegarde grinned. “At this point, I would be prepared to believe anything. Now, let’s get you dressed.”

  “It’s a good job Amice went home yesterday.”

  “Indeed it is, so I shall be your maid now. Come.”

  Once dressed, Shannon looked down at herself. Her normally slender figure had been hidden beneath the all-encompassing folds of a garment made for someone of twice her girth. The wimple was pulled down low over her forehead, and Hildegarde had contrived to even cover the tip of her chin, pulling the hood down closely over her face. She felt as though she was wearing a burqa or whatever it was. Certainly, nothing except her hands and the middle part of her face from her eyebrows to just below her mouth showed.

  “That should do it. I don’t even think I’d recognise me.”

  “Very true. Remember, you’re a humble pilgrim’s wife and not anyone of importance. Slouch a little. You are not quite a peasant, perhaps, but you must, for certѐs, not seem to be a lady.

  “Now, I can’t risk bringing you something to eat. I don’t want to be seen abroad before Prime.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not hungry.”

  “Well then, just before Prime, I shall open this door, and Father Dominic will escort you to the outer courtyard where he will get you seated on his mule. Isabella and Giles will be making such a disturbance as they leave, we are hopeful no one will notice you even if they should be about.”

  Shannon pressed her lips tightly together for a moment. “I’m going to miss wearing my gowns.” She stroked the fabric of the one she was trying to fold. Hildegard took the garment from her, folding it perfectly, with the economy of movement she had perfected over the years. “I’m going to miss you, too, Auntie.” Her eyes were suspiciously moist. “I suppose I’ll never see you again.” She paused. “Probably.”

  “God forbid, child! Of a surety, you’ve given me more worry in recent days than an entire convent of nuns has given me in more than thirty years.” She softened the words with a smile. “Though I confess, I shall miss you, too. However, I shall think of you often and keep you in my prayers.”

  Shannon twisted and hugged her around the waist, burying her face in the dark cloth then, pulling away, gazed speculatively at her. “Still, you never know. And, I know some of this visit was horrible, but, you know, some of it was fantastic. Meeting you, the sisters, Giles and Isabella, and that gorgeous little boy. Oh! I suppose he’s my ancestor, too.”

  “He may be, or he may not. We do not know how many children they will have or how many will survive. For now, I should just think of him as a little boy, if I were you. Certainly, that’s how I see them. Not as my ancestors, just people in their own right. Although, they do feel like kin once you know, do they not?”

  “Yep.”

  “Now, are you ready? Do you have everything?”

  “Where’s my mobile?” She started to rummage through her bags, threatening to undo all Hildegarde’s careful packing. Hildegarde caught her hands to stop her as she tugged it out.

  “It’s here. I have it. If Mum ever finds out where I’ve been, she’ll kill me. She’s going to be so angry.”

  “And do you blame her? She might never have seen you again. She warned you of the dangers.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Still, be that as it may, has this break helped?”

  Shannon nodded again. “It really has. I don’t give a stuff about Jackson now. Sorry,” she added, as Hildegarde looked pained.

  “So, shall we get you moving?”

  Shannon frowned. “It’s going to hurt.”

  She started to rise; Hildegarde forestalled her. “Child, wait for Father Dominic. He’ll assist you along with Sir Giles. Once mounted, you’ll ride with the others. You will veer off from the main party when you near the tree. Sir Giles will take the mule, and Father Dominic will get you through the beech and find someone whose phone you may borrow – I imagine everyone has these mobile things, yes?”

  Shannon nodded.

  “Good. Now, wait here; I’ll return in a moment.”

  Giles was pacing the garth, half hidden by shadows. He raised his head as though he’d sensed Hildegarde’s soft tread and moved towards her. “Is she ready?”

  She raised her finger to her lips. Better not to speak out here.

  Leading him across to the building which housed the guests, she opened a little-used door at the rear of the guest-house – an alternative entrance, which avoided the necessity of passing other chambers. The short hall it opened into which led to Shannon’s room was dark and slightly dank but held far less risk of their being heard.

  Shannon was resting on the bed, her foot up. She hadn’t noticed his arrival, and he hesitated, observing her, studying her features. Hildegarde was right; how had he not seen it? She was not identical to Isabella, yet there was a definite similarity, and…he stared! That ring! Was it his or not? He had to know.

  “Rohese?” She opened her eyes, startled for a moment, then gazed up at him, and he flinched. His mother had looked thus the last time he had seen her. She was dead within the month; it had been his final memory of her.

  Shannon quirked an eyebrow. “Sir Giles, or, er, should I call you Grandfather?”

  Despite himself, he grinned. “Just Giles will do since, although you are kin, I’m in no way old enough to be your grandsire, lass.”

  “I know. Weird, isn’t it?”

  And there it was, the other resemblance. Marion! He must have been purblind.

  “And my name’s Shannon, but you’d better stick to Rohese.”

  “Shannon, you blow my mind.” He couldn’t resist it, and her eyes sparked with fun. She had courage and spirit like her mother.

  Hildegarde touched his arm; they needed to move. But first… “Shannon, may I see your ring?”

  She handed it to him wordlessly. He slid it onto his little finger, where he used to wear his own before giving it to Isabella. It fitted as though it had been made for him. Pulling it off, he studied the inside; he could just make out the inscription his father’d had engraved. The words were worn away now; however, the marks he could see corresponded with what he knew should be there. It was true, then.

  He caressed the worn smoothness of the ring before handing it back to Shannon. “Take care of it. It does my heart good to know you cherish it.”

  Hildegarde interrupted. “Sir Giles! We need to go.” Then she paused. “Wait one moment. I nearly forgot.” She pulled something from the hidden pocket in the skirt of her habit. “Isabella asked me to give you this – it was her mother’s – as a parting gift.”

  Shannon took the little thimble, exclaiming in delight. And indeed, it was exquisite. Tiny deer chased around it, and a small bird was engraved on the top. “Oh, it’s beautiful. Thank her for me, please. I wish I could see her again. And Dickon.”<
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  At that moment, a gentle scratching came at the door. Shannon jumped. Hildegarde opened it, and Father Dominic came bustling in. The Abbess looked at him, then turned to Shannon. “Does he appear as the priests do in your world?”

  “Um, I think so. Or a monk, anyway. Close enough to pass, I suppose.”

  “Then, that will have to do. Now, Father, have you your pilgrim clothes?”

  His eyes twinkled. “I do indeed, good Abbess. Might I change into them here? Mayhap in the room where we spoke with Sir Giles?”

  “Certainly. You remember the way?”

  He inclined his head. “I have an excellent sense of direction, my lady.”

  And off he went, carrying a bundle which Shannon assumed was his disguise. “He’s a nice little man, isn’t he? Mind you, he got on my wick when I first met him.”

  Hildegarde gave her a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I still find him quite irksome. He has a good heart though, and after this, I shall certainly see him in a new light. Also, at least he’ll have some fresh tales to tell.”

  “Yeah, you can probably recite the others by heart, now, can’t you? I bet he’s told you the same things loads of times.” Shannon grinned, then her face tensed. “Auntie, I know I’ve been laughing, but this is serious isn’t it? I’m a bit nervous. Do you think I’ll make it home? And will you all be okay? The spy won’t cause you trouble, will he?”

  “I would almost, were I not a nun, put money on you arriving home none the worse for your adventures apart from a bad sprain. As for Hamo, I trust he will be so grateful for the care we take of him, he’ll not consider us complicit in any way. There is little he can do if you are gone when he recovers.”

  “What about John?” Shannon was chewing her thumbnail. “What if he comes searching for me? And won’t everyone want to know where I’ve gone?”

  “I shall make it known that your father’s men came in secret to collect you. He is a high-born lord, after all.” Shannon giggled. Hildegarde smiled again and continued, “He wished you to return most urgently, by secret means, due to political problems in Bolohovenia. And may God forgive me for the lie.”