by Shea,Lisa
She leant against him slightly, the warmth of his strength flowing through her. She was steadied by his presence. “We will find a way,” she vowed to him, twining her fingers into his. “Together, we will find a way.”
She soaked in the simple pleasure of sitting by Gabriel’s side, of bathing in the comfort radiating from his body, of being beside the man she adored with all her heart.
They sat that way for an hour, not talking, not having any need for words. When the chimes tolled nine, Constance blinked as if awakening from a dream. She stood slowly, and Gabriel rose at her side, not releasing her hand. He walked her over to the gates, lowering his lips to her hand for a kiss.
“Until tomorrow, then,” he offered quietly, holding her gaze.
“Yes,” she replied, then turned to head inside.
She joined the group in the chapel for terce. The sermon this time was on Pentecost – on the holy spirit descending on the apostles, sending them out into the world to educate and uplift the farmers and fishermen. Constance felt that the sermon was directed at her, toward the formation of a school. She did feel the lure of the idea, the fulfillment of many of her dreams. Still, at what cost …
The day moved through its phases. She helped Silvia for a while in the herb garden, pruning and tending to the dill and sage. Lunch was a quiet affair with a reading from the Bible as the women ate quietly. There were more periods of office, embroidery to be done by a sunny window, a dinner of fresh vegetables and fish. She basked in the warmth of the community around her, the benefit of the good deeds the nunnery provided for the poor in the community. The hospital held a child injured from a fall, as well as a local farmer who had cut himself while chopping down trees. Women came in to ask a share of the herbs for their home cabinets. A group of girls from the local village studied at embroidery and illumination. The sermons were never dull, always insightful and full of wisdom to glean. Yes, Constance felt that she could become very used to this way of life, and very content.
Content, but … as she climbed into the simple bed in her room, and blew out her candle, she found herself staring out the window for a long time. She knew that, in her heart, a middle ground would be much better suited to her dreams. Several women from the village came to the nunnery by day to volunteer their time, to help with training and copying tasks – but returned to their homes, their families in the evening. As much as Constance knew she would treasure the friendships with the sisters, a part of her still yearned for a family of her own, a husband at her side, children to raise. She knew that she would always feel something missing, incomplete if she ensconced herself within the nunnery’s walls without having that experience.
She laughed wryly to herself that she was discounting her time with Barnard. To her, it did not count at all as time with a partner. It was more a penance with a captor, a penance she had done with full knowledge of the cost – but one she felt should come to an end. That had been done selflessly, for others. She wanted just one brief time for herself, for her own dreams.
Lost in thought, she drifted slowly off to sleep.
Chapter 18
Constance fell fully into the gentle rhythm of the nunnery, waking at dawn for Matins. She loved these early hours, loved the glistening of the dew on the blades of grass, loved the gentle tendrils of light which edged over the horizon and lit the world with a soft glow. This was one of her favorite offices – the simple praising of God for what He provided to the world. She counted again her blessings that she was fed, clothed, provided with friends who cared for her. Considering the hardships that many around the world faced, she had a lot to be thankful for.
Once again she was invited to a private breakfast with the Abbess and Silvia, and once again she sat in the simple stone room around a low table, sharing bread and eggs with the pair. The women did not press her for her thoughts, or bandy about any casual conversation. Instead, they ate quietly, emanating relaxation, and allowed Constance her time to speak or not speak. Constance found herself lulled by the peaceful atmosphere and ready acceptance of patience.
“I have been thinking on what we spoke of yesterday,” she began at length, and the two women looked over with calm eyes to show they were paying attention. “As you know, the idea of setting up a school appeals to me greatly. There is a lot of good we could do.”
She took in a long drink of her peppermint tea. “Still, I must admit I am still concerned about issues of security. The nunnery here is strong and well protected. It could withstand a concentrated attack. However, the structure at Beadnell would have to be built from scratch, of course. With the bandits, I do not know how you would hold the land in order to do that in safety. It would take years to complete the work.”
“We would have the protection we needed, never you fear,” reassured the abbess in a smooth voice. “That would not be a problem.”
“Do you mean the bishop would recall some Templars back from the holy land, just to safeguard this project?”
The abbess held her gaze steadily. “We have no need to go that far to find men more than a match for the bandits.”
Constance was caught by the wise face, and her mind skipped back to her arrival. The mercenaries had been respectful of the abbess, and she had greeted them almost as equals. Then there was their name …
“Angelus?” she said suddenly, pieces sliding into place in her mind. “That is Latin for angels. I never thought about it; I always assumed it was the surname of the person in charge of the mercenaries. They are somehow associated with the church?”
“Our paths cross often, yes,” agreed the abbess easily.
“I thought they were hired by the wool-making guild,” rebutted Constance in confusion. “They are based in Shoreston, formed up due to the high level of piracy on coastal shipments. That has always been their focus.”
“Has it now?” asked the abbess with a light tone, looking to Silvia with a smile. “Is that what you have observed?”
Constance frowned. “I suppose I never had first-hand knowledge of them, until recently,” she admitted slowly. “It was only rumors brought in by Barnard from his travels. I only met them when …” She looked down guiltily. She had dutifully revealed her evening activities to both women, holding back nothing in her telling, but she still felt embarrassed at them knowing about her teaching the local women. It was not proper for a woman in her position to be so rambunctious.
“Yes, when you were training the villagers to defend themselves,” agreed the abbess, taking a bite of her egg. “The Angelus, as you might recall, were there on a protective mission as well.”
“So you feel you can depend on them, to help with this task?” asked Constance, still not quite reassured.
The abbess nodded firmly. “I would trust them with my life,” she replied easily. “As should we all.”
The bells chimed, and once again Constance made her quick farewells, scampering down the long stairs and out into the sunny courtyard. Her eyes flew to the gate …
She pulled up short, heart caught in her throat. The guards stood blocking the gate entrance, with Gabriel to one side, joining in the protective barrier without entering into the nunnery’s grounds. Facing them was a man on horseback wearing the burgundy of her husband’s livery. He eyed the guards with hostile disapproval, and his eyes sharpened as he saw Constance’s approach.
“Well, there she is,” he called out shortly, his displeasure evident. “I will see this parchment into her hands, and then I will be off.”
One of the guards stepped forward. “I will take that to her, if you please,” he insisted, holding out his hand.
The messenger huffed out his anger, but he removed a roll from the pouch at his side, holding it for a long moment. “I must see it placed into her hands myself,” he warned, then passed the scroll down to the guard.
Constance halted a full ten feet from the scene and waited with trepidation as the guard brought the parchment back to her. She took it with trembling hands, fingering the wax sea
l which held it shut. She looked up at the messenger, her gaze dismissive.
The man took her meaning at once. “My Lady,” he saluted her, his tone snide. Then he wheeled the horse around and started off at a gallop back up the road.
Constance stood still while he rode off, running her finger beneath the seal, loosening it. She did not move until the sound of hoofbeat faded away into silence, leaving behind the quiet birdsong of a nearby robin. The parchment came open under her hands, and she glanced down at it, then moved forward.
Gabriel stood there, watching her, and she fell into step beside him, walking over to the stone bench. He did not speak as she sat down, only standing above her, protectively, his eyes scanning the nearby road for any sign of movement.
Constance slowly read through the precise writing, her face relaxing as the words flowed past. “He has accepted a trip of two weeks,” she told Gabriel finally, relief infusing her. “He says he will be here in full force at the end of a fortnight – but until then he will not invoke the law against my flight. That is a start at least.”
“It does give us some time,” agreed Gabriel, “Still, we must still find a solution here. Have you talked further with the abbess?”
“What do you know of the Angelus?” asked Constance by way of an answer.
His eyes flared with surprise, and then his face shuttered, went blank. “What do you mean?” he asked coolly.
Constance creased her brow in confusion. “Surely you must be at least somewhat associated with them, given how easily you knew to trust them by the bridge,” she pointed out. “Had they been sent by the Abbess to help us on our journey?”
“I do hear that they are on good terms with the Church,” agreed Gabriel quietly. “So the Abbess feels the Angelus can be of help with this situation?”
Constance shrugged. “I am not really sure yet. I think she feels, if I were to pledge myself to the nunnery and turn over the lands to the care of the Church, that the Angelus would help to protect the land until a new structure could be built there.”
Gabriel turned at that, gazing far down the road. “That is certainly a possibility,” he replied, his voice tight.
Constance reached a hand up to take his, to draw him down to her side. He came reluctantly, seeming on edge, his gaze scanning the distant reaches, watching for danger. She felt his restlessness, and again the salty aroma of the sea reached her, calling to her.
“I so wish we could ride down to the ocean,” she mused wistfully. “It has been so long since I have seen it …”
Gabriel’s voice was tense. “That is a dangerous risk,” he pointed out. “We still have no guarantee that Barnard is going to behave himself, or that the bandits have not made plans to capture you if they can.”
Constance’s shoulders tightened. “Just for a little while, it would be enough. If you and Ralph came with me, surely it would be safe.”
Gabriel looked to meet her eyes, and she saw his rigidity lessen, his face soften. “You do want it badly, Connie.”
“I adore the sea,” she whispered, turning to look off to where she knew it waited for her. “Even a few minutes would sustain me for a long while.”
Several minutes passed, and Gabriel finally let out a sigh, nodding.
“I will bring a horse tomorrow, and Ralph. You shall have your visit.”
“Thank you,” murmured Constance, a sense of serenity easing over her soul.
She folded her hand into his. They sat for a long while, soaking in the sunlight. A drifting peace drew close around them, surrounding them, enveloping them in its warmth.
Chapter 19
Constance poured her heartfelt energies into the dawn service of Matins, recounting her blessings with a devout soul. She was so uplifted after the service was complete that she wondered why this was not a part of every person’s waking ritual. It was so cleansing, so focusing, to remember just how much there was to be grateful for in each new day.
She helped her aunt weed the herb gardens for an hour, lost in the beauty of this quiet life. Every service here was a treat, a new awakening of her mind, a new set of thoughts to ponder and discuss.
The bell tolled for Prime, and she put away her garden tools, walking quietly with her aunt toward the chapel. The women filed in calmly, taking their seats in silence.
A figure in a long, white robe moved up toward the pulpit. Constance was intrigued. A Cistercian brother had come to give a guest talk at the Abbey? She knew the Cistercians had rebelled against the Benedictines, had challenged the “black monks” for their desire for wealth and power. In comparison, the Cistercians focused their energies on helping the poor, protecting the weak.
The white robed person stood at the podium for a long moment, and was met with an expectant hush. He looked around the chapel for a long moment, then pushed back his hood.
It was Abbess Agnes, a wide smile on her face.
The room broke out into amused laughing, as the sisters prodded each other, caught by the joke. She waited for the noise to settle down again before she began.
“We have been talking about Genesis this week, about appearances, expectations, and responsibilities. Let us talk this morning about the way we hide our nature from one another, how symbols can sometimes be more powerful than you might think.”
She gave a tug on the edge of her white hood. “For example, just now you made assumptions about my background, my motives, and even my level of honor, all based on a simple robe I wore. How much of this same guesswork goes on every day? Who do we take for granted? Who do we judge based on their facade?”
Her eyes moved across the group of women. “Let us take, for example, the snake in the Garden of Eden. This story tells us of a reptile who lured Eve into crossing from ignorance into knowledge.”
She tilted her head to one side, and her voice carried easily across the room. “Let us ponder the snake. Was it Satan? If it was Satan, merely in a snake disguise, why would God then curse all snakes for all time? Surely he should have punished Satan, not the poor animal whose form he had chosen.”
The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile. “If Satan had decided to appear as a horse, would all horses have been cursed forever? That would not seem likely.”
The women listening chuckled softly to themselves in agreement.
“Similarly, if a thief shows up in our midst disguised as a healer, do we condemn all healers throughout history to degradation as a result? A rational person would not assign blame so haphazardly. That is the key here, to consider what we read and perceive it rationally.”
Constance’s mind leapt to the Angelus. They were men in disguise, men she had seen only in shadows. Who were they really? Had she judged them based on their disguises? Were they really mercenaries? Or were they actually agents of good, men she was misjudging simply because of their outer appearance? She, after all, put on a disguise when she went out to help the local villagers learn self-defense. The Angelus had taken her for a bandit for that very reason.
She took in a deep breath. What of other disguises? What of her attempt to convince Gabriel that she had never loved him? What of her hiding her feelings from him?
The thoughts swirled in her mind long after the talk was done, occupied her during the quiet breakfast with her two friends. She made a decision to put aside all disguises, all deceptions. It was time to embrace what life presented, to appreciate every day as it came, and to no longer hide.
As she headed down the stairs to the front gate, her mind was on the sea, on its quiet peace, on the low rolling steadiness of the waves. She walked contentedly to the courtyard, and her heart leapt with pleasure when she saw Ralph and Gabriel waiting there for her, three horses tethered up nearby.
Ralph kept back a discreet distance as Gabriel and Constance walked their steeds through the quiet town, taking the familiar path across meadow and lane toward the ocean. Constance held back at the final turn, then allowed herself to be overwhelmed with pleasure as she moved forward, came over t
he crest, and was finally able to see the long horizon, the stretch of turquoise, the gulls soaring high on thermals. She looked over at Gabriel, stretched out her hand, and he took it tenderly, sharing in her joy.
Together they dismounted and left the horses to Ralph, moving down onto the sandy shore. The sun shone brilliantly on the water, almost blinding them, and Constance laughed aloud with pleasure. She sat on a tuft of grass and pulled off her shoes and stockings, then ran down to the surf, lifting her skirts as she chased the waves. Gabriel was at her side in a moment, running with her, lifting her up and spinning her in a circle.
They soaked in the ocean breezes for hours, sitting on the beach talking, walking along the surf, holding hands. Constance almost managed to convince herself that she was nineteen again, that her life stretched before her, that Gabriel was the only man in her world.
An afternoon breeze sprang up, and she shivered slightly, staring out at the sea. Gabriel moved up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close. Constance’s mind went back to that fateful day and she leant back against him. Suddenly tears began streaming from her eyes. He saw them at once, but did not say a word, just held her close, pressing his cheek against her head tenderly, soothing her with his presence.
“You must be hungry,” he offered softly after a few minutes. “Shall we walk in for some food?”
Constance nodded quietly, and the two headed back into town, Ralph following along quietly until they reached the main street. He motioned to Gabriel, then turned to take the horses down to the stables by the inn.
The innkeeper welcomed the pair with warm smiles, coming over to give Constance a tender hug. “My dear, I am so glad you are all right!” He stepped back to look her over. “I would never have forgiven myself if you had been killed. To think I was right there in the room with your kidnappers, and never realized it!” His face became wreathed with smiles. “I am just so thankful that you had the presence of mind to give me that message for Gabe here. I was wondering, at the time, just what you were thinking. After all, you left him abruptly all those years ago. Still, I did not question it, I just -”