by Jody Hedlund
He studied my face and the seriousness in his expression stilled my racing thoughts. “I’d hoped to visit you earlier, and now I regret that we only have one month left until you turn eighteen.”
“Have no regrets, your Grace.”
The duke began to shake his head.
“It’s all right,” I assured him. “I’ve come to accept my parents’ vow. And I’ve prepared myself for my future in the convent. I’ll embrace the life set before me.”
The duke’s face tightened with an intensity that once again put me on edge. Something in his silver eyes told me that he was about to deliver life-altering news. The only trouble was, I didn’t want to hear it if so. It had taken four years to adjust to the devastating revelation of my parents’ vow. That recovery had been enough.
Should I send the duke away before he could say anything? I glanced to James, who peeked around the corner of the doorway before popping back inside. So much for having a club-wielding giant to protect me.
As if sensing my wariness, the duke reached for my hand to prevent me from leaving. “Please hear me out, dear one.”
Maybe I needed to wait for the abbot to arrive so I would have someone to lean on. But as soon as the thought sifted through me, I pushed it aside. Hadn’t I just lamented the fact that the abbot was still treating me like a child all too often? Maybe if I wanted him to respect me as an adult, I needed to act like one.
I straightened my spine and calmed the flutters inside. “Very well, your Grace. I’ll listen. Please proceed.”
The duke bowed slightly, and the seriousness in his expression did nothing to put me at ease. “After much investigating, my scribes have finally found an exception to your parents’ vow.”
Exception? To the vow? For a moment, I was speechless, unable to absorb his words. Was the duke jesting? If so, it was a heartless joke. “There’s no exception. The Ancient Vow is one passed down from the time of Samuel the prophet, when his mother Hannah gave him to Eli the priest. It’s unbreakable.”
The duke’s eyes were grave. “But, my dear, there is one exception, and only one.”
At the seriousness of his tone, my knees began to tremble. I wanted to tell him not to say anything more, that I didn’t need an exception, that I was prepared for the plans laid out for me from before my birth. But just as surely as I felt that, I realized a place deep inside needed to know of what he spoke.
I nodded at him to continue.
He reached for my hand. “If you find true love and are married before midnight on your eighteenth birthday, you will be released from the vow.”
Chapter
3
“’Tis impossible.” I paced in front of the spacious window seat where the Duke of Rivenshire sat watching me. He’d shed his armor, but he was still covered with the dust of travel. I knew I ought to allow the servants to escort him to the guest chambers and prepare him a bath, but he seemed as distraught as me and in no hurry to leave my company. At least we’d come inside the entryway, where we could have a modicum of privacy, although I was sure Trudy and James stood just inside the Great Hall listening to every word we spoke.
Outside the wide-open front doors, the men and servants who had accompanied the duke had begun the task of unloading their goods and caring for their beasts. They were surely hungry and tired and ready to relax. Especially as the scents of roasting geese, smoked hogs, and boiled mutton had drifted through the castle corridors all day. The Midsummer’s Eve feast would soon be ready and my famished guests should be served without delay.
Even so, I couldn’t turn my thoughts from the news the duke had delivered. I still couldn’t believe him.
I stopped my pacing, knelt before the duke, and took his callused hands into mine. Even though my body was outwardly calm, my insides continued to resist, like a soldier defending a besieged wall. “Tell me all you know about my parents’ vow, your Grace. I need to know everything.” Of course the abbot had explained the vow to me after the death of my parents, after I’d discovered the scroll hidden in the secret chamber of my mother’s chest. I’d realized then that my mother had tried to tell me about the vow from her deathbed, but hadn’t been able to get the words out before she’d died. Over the ensuing years, I’d always wondered why my mother had waited until so late to finally try to tell me such important news. But I could only speculate that she hadn’t brought it up because she’d wanted me to have as normal of a life as possible for as long as possible.
Even though I’d struggled through the questions and tried to make peace with them, there were still times that I wanted to discover more, to shed light on the truth.
Did the duke have more answers?
He smoothed his hands around one of mine and I settled back on my heels to listen to him. “Your parents were always very much in love with each other. And so it was easy during the first years of their marriage to ignore the fact that they weren’t welcoming a new baby into their home. But as time passed, the emptiness of your mother’s womb moved into their hearts.”
His voice was soft, and his eyes had taken on a faraway look. “They wanted a child of their own very badly. And at last they became so desperate that they went to the convent and begged Abbot Francis Michael to pray for them . . . and to give them a Tear of the Virgin Mary.”
My pulse pattered with a strange rush that happened whenever I heard the story. The Tears of the Virgin Mary were very special. Whenever they were given for medicinal purposes, a miracle always seemed to happen. But they were also extremely rare and used only sparingly.
“As everyone knows, a Tear comes with a price,” the duke said. “And in the case of infertility, the price is always the Ancient Vow of Hannah, the consecration of the firstborn child to God for a life of service to him.”
The duke’s story was exactly the same as the one I’d heard four years earlier, yet I bowed my head and pressed a hand against my stomach in an attempt to calm the turmoil. Even though it had come as a shock and even though it had taken time, I’d finally accepted my destiny. I had no desire to question things now. “The Ancient Vow is unbreakable, unalterable. It must be fulfilled upon punishment of death. How can there be an exception?”
“After your parents died, I suspected that there was more to the Vow than they’d told any of us. I meant to investigate sooner, but the border wars kept me away longer than I’d anticipated.” He reached into a pouch at his side and retrieved a rolled parchment. “Two months ago, I sent orders to my wisest scribes to have them search the ancient texts to discover if there were any exceptions to the Vow. Day and night, they did not stop reading until they finally located something.”
Carefully, he unrolled the stiff, yellowed paper. “The one exception to the Ancient Vow is listed here.” He pointed at a line of faded, handwritten text.
I read the words that were as exactly as he’d explained — that anyone bound by the Ancient Vow of Hannah could be freed from a life of celibacy and service to God if he or she found true love and entered the holy covenant of marriage by the age of eighteen. For long moments, I sat silently, trying to digest the facts. But it was all too much to try to grasp after resigning myself to a life of singleness. After Thomas left, I’d never again courted. I’d never mingled with men. I’d never even spoken to eligible young gentlemen. What would have been the purpose?
Now, with exactly one month until my eighteenth birthday, what hope did I have of finding true love and getting married? It was a ludicrous notion. The only man I’d ever briefly cared about was already married. There were no other prospects.
“I cannot consider the exception,” I finally said, lifting my face and speaking to the duke with all the earnestness I could muster. “I’ve already accepted that God wants me to go to the convent.”
“I’m not convinced God wants you to lock yourself away and become a nun,” the duke said slowly. “But at least we have a month left to determine his will in the matter.”
“What difference will a month make, your G
race?” I rose, resignation coming easily to me.
“One month may not be long enough.” The duke stood too. “But we shall pray that it’s time enough to fall in love.”
I gave a soft laugh. “Even if a month was sufficient time for falling in love — which it is not — I have no suitors. There haven’t been any in years.”
“’Tis no matter,” he replied. “For I have brought you three of the finest knights in all the realm. They’ve proven themselves to be the strongest, bravest, most accomplished warriors.”
Surprise and then embarrassment sifted through me. I couldn’t keep from glancing outside to the knights now tending to their belongings. Even through their layers of armor, a certain nobility set them apart from the others. What would it be like to actually have a conversation with such a man and receive his romantic attentions?
Warmth curled through me. But I quickly shook my head. “Why would I have reason to break my heart or that of another if I’m destined to become a nun?”
“You aren’t destined.”
“Then why didn’t the abbot tell me of this exception?”
“It’s likely he didn’t know.”
At the mention of the abbot, my wise counselor burst through the open front doors at a run, his plain habit flapping behind him like wings. He was breathing hard, and his bald spot glistened with sweat. The narrow line of gray hair that ringed his head was damp.
For a moment, I could only blink in surprise. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever seen the abbot run. He always moved at the slowest, most devote speed — a pace he required of all his monks, a pace he claimed facilitated prayer and reflection on God. Whatever had happened to cause such uncharacteristic haste? Had he run all the way from the walled convent that sat on a hilltop a short distance from the town?
At the sight of the duke, the abbot came to an abrupt halt. He grasped his side and sucked in a deep breath. James walked out of the Great Hall and bowed to him, almost as if he’d been awaiting the abbot’s arrival.
“James,” the abbot quietly rebuked, “you should have called me sooner.”
James kept his bald head bent. “I sent a messenger as soon as I could.”
I stepped forward, acutely aware of the great breach in etiquette the abbot was making with the duke. “Father Abbot,” I said, waving my hand toward our esteemed guest, “surely you remember the Noblest Knight? The Duke of Rivenshire?”
At my words, the abbot’s face transformed into the calm, peaceful expression to which I was accustomed. He nodded at the duke. “Your Grace, how good of you to delight us with your presence after so long an absence.”
“Happy Midsummer’s Eve to you, Abbot Francis Michael.” The duke bowed in respect to the man of God. “We were just speaking of you.”
“Oh?” the abbot said, working to control his heavy breathing. Standing next to the muscular and bronzed knight, he looked like a tall, pale sapling that would snap with the slightest breeze. “I’m only sorry I wasn’t here to greet you properly when you arrived.”
“Lady Rosemarie’s sweet greeting is all I needed,” the duke replied.
The abbot tucked his hands under his long, flowing sleeves and met the knight’s probing gaze. Something seemed to pass between them that I didn’t understand.
“We were just discussing her parents’ vow,” the duke continued. “And I was telling Rosemarie about an exception to the Ancient Vow.”
“There is no exception,” the abbot said matter-of-factly without looking away from the knight. “The Ancient Vow of Hannah stipulates that Lady Rosemarie is to enter the convent on her eighteenth birthday and live her life in service to God.”
“Unless she finds true love and gets married first.”
“Nonsense,” the abbot said. “How dare you come here and fill Lady Rosemarie’s head with such false and dangerous notions —”
“His scribes have found the text that makes such a claim,” I interrupted.
The duke held out the parchment to the abbot.
The abbot read the sheet quickly and then handed it back to the duke. His face was devoid of emotion. If the vow surprised him, he didn’t show it. “You know as well as I do that if she breaks the vow, she’ll die.”
“Not if she finds true love first.” The duke crossed his arms over his broad chest.
The abbot paused for a long moment. From the direction of the kitchen off the Great Hall came the clatter of lids and the shout of my cook, likely yelling at one of the scullion boys.
When the abbot finally spoke again, his tone was calm. “What could be more worthy than Lady Rosemarie honoring the Ancient Vow? Surely you don’t think earthly married life is more desirable than a life set apart in union and service to God himself?”
“Haven’t you puzzled, as I have, why the earl and countess never told Lady Rosemarie about the vow?” the duke asked.
“They would have eventually.”
“Perhaps. But what if they knew about the exception? What if they fully expected Rosemarie to fall in love and get married before her eighteenth year? Did you ever consider that possibility?”
I started at the duke’s explanation. Was that why my parents had been so encouraging when I’d been attracted to Lord Caldwell? Although I’d tried to bury the memories, I could still clearly picture the last hunting party, where Thomas had helped me from my horse and had lingered close to me. At the time my parents had both looked on with encouragement and not with the rebuke I’d anticipated.
Had they been hoping I’d fall in love with Thomas and marry him?
Outside, the sun had disappeared behind a cloud and the clatter in the courtyard had faded. The other knights, squires, and servants had moved to the stables. The eerie stillness reflected an unsettled silence in my soul. Only hours ago, the course of my life had been so certain and safe. But now, with the appearance of my erstwhile friend, my life had been turned upside-down. And I didn’t like it in the least.
As if sensing my inner turmoil, the duke crossed to me and tucked a finger under my chin. He lifted my face so that I was again looking into his kind eyes. “I believe if your parents had known about the exception, they would have wanted you to have the chance to find a love like theirs.”
“You could be right, your Grace,” the abbot said. “But I also know that the earl and countess took the Ancient Vow very seriously. They assured me they would love and enjoy their daughter as long as they could have her, but they ultimately knew she belonged to God.”
That indeed sounded like something my parents would have said. Perhaps they had waited to tell me about the Vow, hoping to shield me from my future a little while longer.
The duke squeezed my shoulder before taking a step back as though letting me know he understood my confusion. “I propose we give Lady Rosemarie the next month to test for herself the right course for her life.”
“Test how?” I asked.
“You’ll allow my three noble knights to court you and attempt to win your hand. And if you don’t fall in love with one of them by your eighteenth birthday, then we shall take that as a sign from God that you’re destined for the convent.”
The abbot was silent but regarded me with concern. He’d witnessed my despondency in the days following the revelation of the Vow. He’d known how difficult it had been for me to truly accept the new course of my life. The compassion creasing his features told me that he didn’t want me to get my hopes up only to have them dashed again.
“How can she make the decision to enter cloistered life if she has not yet discovered if she is more suited for married life?” The duke’s eyes beseeched me to consider his request. “If she enters the convent, she shouldn’t do so by default. Rather she should do so out of a knowledgeable decision made after testing earthly love and finding it wanting compared to her desire for union with God.”
I nodded at the duke. “You’re wise, your Grace.”
“On the other hand, my child,” the abbot said gently, “do you real
ly want to put yourself through such a challenge? After you’ve already prepared your heart and mind for the convent? Think about the possible heartache.”
What was I to do?
“Trust me, Lady Rosemarie,” came the soft whisper of the duke. “I have nothing to gain from offering you this month of courtship with my men, except your happiness.”
The abbot shook his head and began to speak, but I raised my hand to silence him. I couldn’t make a decision at that moment, not with so many considerations. I needed more time to sort through all the information and the confusion swirling through my soul.
“Please, Father Abbot. I have great respect for both you and my dear friend the duke. I know you both have my best interests at heart. And I thank you for it. But now . . . I must have some time to think about this important decision.”
“For the love of the sun, moon, and stars,” came the welcome voice of Trudy from the doorway of the Great Hall. Her cheeks were red, and a barely visible stain crept up her neck beneath her gorget — the wide bands of linen she wore around her neck and draped on her shoulders. I had no doubt my nursemaid had heard every word of our conversation. And now the dear servant waddled toward me on her short legs. “It’s past time to get Lady Rosemarie ready for the feast.”
All I wanted to do was race to my chambers, close the door, and block out all the confusion. But I managed a curtsey and smile, hoping to allay some of the tension radiating from their faces. “I shall think over the matter and deliver my decision at the banquet tonight.”
But as I allowed Trudy to lead me away, I didn’t know how I’d ever decide in such a short time. Not when my whole destiny, my very life, was the price I’d have to pay if I made the wrong choice.
Chapter
4
I knelt before the altar. The coldness of the chapel’s stone floor had penetrated the prayer cushion as if to say I’d prayed long enough for one evening. And yet I couldn’t make myself leave. Not even knowing that my guests were feasting without me on Midsummer’s Eve.