Outside, she tossed the bottle of rose into a bush when Anne wasn’t looking.
* * *
Baskets, bags, and barrels waited next to Horace’s cart near the gardens. Novices, sisters, and lay servants were scattered, picking vegetables from the garden or grapes in the vineyard. Viola picked up her supplies and found her way to a deserted area. Tomorrow was market day and Collette and Dauphine were in good cheer across the field.
If she were not able to leave the convent, she couldn’t give Loys the sketch of her brother that Sister Mary had drawn for her. James was allowed to travel freely across the country, whereas she was trapped in here.
She dropped the basket on the ground and yanked the grapes off of the vines, throwing them into the basket. If only she could find her way back to the infirmary and find another concoction. She could claim she had another ache and inquire about the other bottles, but Lucia may suspect something was amiss if she had noticed the bottle of rose missing.
She finished the area on the vine and moved her basket with her foot. She jumped. A snake slithered its way next to her basket. Slowly, she stepped backward to a safe distance. Horace would know what to do as Claire did a year ago.
She froze. The snake wouldn’t kill anyone, just make them ill for a time. Isn’t that what Claire told her? Instead of searching for Horace, Viola picked up pace and found a bag near the wagon. On her way back, she scanned the grounds until she found a long, sturdy stick with two prongs at the tip.
The snake was now inside her basket. Viola looked around. Everyone appeared to be silently absorbed in their duties.
She laid the bag on the ground and spread out the opening. With the stick, she carefully poked at the snake to coax it out of the basket. Her heart raced. It lunged for the stick, Viola jumped back. This was not good. She didn’t play with snakes as a child.
She gritted her teeth. How she hated James and her father. She was the rightful heir to the estate. Not James. He was the bastard son—not her cousin, as her father made everyone believe. He took away her father’s attentions, her fortune, and now her freedom. It was up to her to rectify those transgressions.
She took a deep breath, secured her footing, and tapped the snake again. It slithered out. She tried to maneuver it toward the bag, but it wouldn’t cooperate. She couldn’t get its tail into the opening.
But this wasn’t how Claire captured it. Tentatively, she stepped closer and pinned the snake behind the neck with the prongs of the stick. Its body jerked around, trying to break free. Viola grasped it securely behind the neck with her free hand and dropped the stick with her other, holding its lower body. It wasn’t as slimy as she thought it would be; its skin was smooth and slippery.
She inserted its head deep into the bag, then bent down and used her knee to hold the body steady. She released her hand from the body, grasped its head from outside the fabric, just under her other hand, then removed her other hand from inside the bag. As quick as she could, she pulled up the edges of the bag, lifting it off the ground. The snake’s body slid into it.
She gripped the opening tightly and wiped her hand on her skirt. Her heart beat rapidly against her chest. With the back of her hand, she wiped a bead of sweat. All she wanted to do was wash her hands. Viola straightened her back, tipped her chin, and carried the bag across the grounds.
The hallways were quiet. Viola peeked around the corner before she ascended the staircase. Isabella was nowhere in sight. Her hand ached from the tight grip on the bag. She held it away from herself, though it wasn’t jerking around as it had been.
She heard a creak and froze, listening intently. The sound didn’t repeat itself. She could feel her heart beat, the dampness in her palms. Letting out a deep breath, Viola quietly walked down the hallway until she reached Collette’s cell.
The lay servant had already cleaned the room; the bed was made and the chamber pot emptied. Collette had a large trunk in the corner. Her table was covered with toiletries, an ivory comb, and a few books. A basket on the floor held yarn, knitting supplies, and what appeared to be a delicately half-made shawl. What would Collette be doing with so many possessions?
With one hand, Viola lifted up the bedding. Silk sheets. She grimaced, then searched with her fingers for the seam in the straw mattress. It was tightly sewn. She spotted a small knife with a jeweled handle in the sewing supplies and pulled it out. Mother Superior complained about missing buttons, and yet, this woman had jewels in a finely crafted knife. A vow of poverty? For a moment, she wondered what Isabella had in her cell.
Viola used the knife to make an opening in the mattress and let the snake slither into the straw. She carefully replaced the knife into the sewing basket and remade the bed.
She peeked out the door. The corridor was still empty. With a quick stride, Viola made her way back to her place in the vineyard. Though she felt certain that someone had seen her, no one approached, nor did they stare. Now she had to wait.
Viola was on edge the entire day, wondering, hoping that her scheme would be successful. Her actions that afternoon didn’t appear to upset the mundane routine of the convent: work, prayer, one more meal, and then more prayer. Finally, the sky turned an array of oranges and reds. The day was about over. After compline, the women retired to their rooms.
Viola watched the sun set through her window as she sat on her bed, brushing her hair one-hundred times. It had finally grown to just above her shoulders. Her thoughts drifted back to home, when she was a child at her mother’s bedside. Mother had been elated with the news that Mary Tudor had taken the throne. She made Viola promise to use her influence and status to support the Catholic Queen. Each time Viola promised that she would, the wrinkles in her mother’s face would softened and she smiled.
She set the brush on the small table and lay down on her straw mattress, wondering if the snake was still in Collette’s bed or if it had escaped. The seconds ticked by, the hallways remained quiet. Viola sighed and closed her eyes. There was a good chance that she wouldn’t see Loys at market. If this didn’t work, she wondered if he would be there the next week. If she could spend more time in the infirmary....
A scream echoed through the hallway. Doors opened and slammed shut. The pitter-patter of feet outside her door. Viola smiled, then opened her eyes. Slowly, she got up and then opened her door.
Isabella briskly walked past Viola; she didn’t even slow down to acknowledge that Viola was not in her room. Viola followed at a slow pace. More than a dozen women stood near Collette’s door, quietly speaking amongst themselves. Viola was there to be a part of the chaos; she didn’t want to appear suspicious by staying in her room. Sister Lucia pushed her way inside the room. The woman began to give their own version of what had just transpired over Colette’s screaming.
Sister Judith whispered, “She may have had a vision.”
Another whispered, “She may have fallen.”
Then Lucia announced in a loud voice, “She has been bitten by a snake.”
At the mention of a snake another sister screamed and chaos erupted. The crowd fled from the room. Isabella charged from the room, bumping into Sister Judith. A few outside the room stood, frozen. Viola looked inside. Collette was sprawled out on the floor, holding her knee close to her chest. Her skirt had lifted to her calf. Lucia knelt on the floor next to her. She glanced up. “Come, take her arm. I must get her to the infirmary.”
Viola shifted her eyes to the women racing down the hallway, scurrying to their cells, then slamming their doors closed. Worthless women, Viola thought. Did they have no compassion for those wounded?
Sister Judith helped Lucia lift Collette to a standing position. Viola could hardly hear herself think, with Collette’s wailing and screaming.
Mother Superior marched down the hallway, Sister Isabella a few steps behind, trying to speak with her in a low whisper.
The abbess glanced into Collette’s cell. “Sister Lucia, report.”
“From the marks on her ankle, I believe Si
ster Collette has been bitten by a snake.”
The abbess turned to Isabella. “How did this happen? “Where is this snake now?”
Sister Isabella lowered her eyes. “I do not know, Mother Superior.”
Viola was taken aback. For the first time since she’d arrived, she’d never seen Isabella cower.
Lucia spoke up. “By the looks of the bedding, I believe it was in the mattress.”
“Summon Horace to locate and dispose of the creature.”
Isabella’s eyes shot up. “But, Mother Superior, a man on the premises?”
“Do you wish to offer your services, Sister Isabella?” Isabella glanced away. “I thought not. Have the lay servants search each room. Horace will only enter their sacred space if another snake is located.”
“Yes, Mother Superior.”
The abbess followed Lucia, Collette and Judith down the hallway.
Isabella’s eyes locked with Viola. “Sister Viola, you should be in your cell, not scampering about.”
Viola tipped her chin then heard Mother Superior. “Viola,” Mother Superior walked back toward her. “Sister Lucia believes Sister Collette will be in the infirmary for a time. Would you assist Sister Dauphine on the morrow?”
Viola glanced at each of them, biting her lip, fearful a different response would reveal her sincere happiness. “Of course. I will take her place straight away.”
The abbess smiled wide. “A very humble gesture, Novice Viola. Your assistance would be most appreciated.”
Isabella’s face fell at the abbess’s statement.
The abbess turned to Isabella. “Fetch Horace now, Sister Isabella, or do you prefer to find yourself in the same state as Sister Collette?”
Isabella turned and hurried down the hallway.
Viola returned to her cell and removed the buttons from the wooden cross above her bed, slipping them into her shoe. She would tie the image of James with a piece of twine and attach it to her leg. She was ready. If only she could leave the convent as easily as she had procured the duty of market.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Viola anxiously awaited Frederick and Loys to appear at market. She wondered if the customers hadn’t eaten in weeks by the way they were making their purchase. Viola argued with one woman who touched every single piece of produce, haggled over price, then walked away, buying nothing.
Viola received a dirty look from Sister Dauphine, but there was nothing she could do. If she was not allowed to barter with a stubborn customer, how was she to force the woman to make a purchase?
The hot sun beat down on them. Viola felt beads of sweat trickle down between her breasts and thighs. Her toes hurt, pressing against the buttons hidden in her shoe. There was no sign of Frederick or Loys.
Sister Dauphine placed an empty basket in the wagon. “I feel that we did well today. Mother Superior will be pleased.” She glanced toward the sky. “If we leave now, we might make it back in time for prayer.”
No matter what time they left, they would surely be in time for prayer, Viola thought. “There are no errands today?” Viola sincerely hoped that Dauphine and Horace would leave her to manage the cart for when Loys or the boy would appear.
“Not this day.” Sister Dauphine picked up another basket and placed it in the cart.
Viola glanced around the market one more time with no sign. She sighed. Maybe Loys was not the most honorable mercenary, as he self-proclaimed. She helped Sister Dauphine slide the large board into the wagon and crawled into the back. She had no wish to sit in front with the others. All of her work these past few days was for naught.
Sister Dauphine called out, “Wake up, old man.”
Horace grumbled. He said something to Dauphine, but Viola didn’t care. She was hot, tired, and her body felt drained. It had been a long night in the convent, with the lay servants searching each bed, every corner, for a snake.
“Viola. Viola.” Sister Dauphine shook her leg. “Horace forgot to make a purchase.”
Viola sat up straight. “I will watch the wagon.”
Dauphine nodded and Viola watched them walk away.
“Sister.”
She heard a familiar voice behind her. “Where have you been?”
Loys picked his tooth with a twig. “Watching. Waiting.” He motioned to Dauphine. “I fear your companion disapproves of me. And I do not believe she would approve of your actions either.” He took a step forward. “Do you have what we discussed.”
Viola lifted her skirt to her calves and untied the twine holding the image of James. The parchment was slightly damp.
Loys unfolded it and glanced at the image. “This is good. Very good.”
Frederick appeared and glanced at the image. “Is that the man? I have seen him.”
“You have?”
“Oui. A fortnight ago at the tavern.”
“This may be easier than I first assumed.” Loys glanced at Viola. “Do you have payment?”
She knew he’d ask. She sat back in the wagon and removed her shoe. “I have three pearl buttons set in gold to offer as partial payment.”
Loys took them out of her hand and examined them in the sunlight. “This is far from what I asked.”
“There is more. My mother’s jewels are worth more than what you require. I only need to retrieve them.”
“Where are they?”
“England.”
Loys gave a hearty laugh. “You expect me to dispose of your brother with only a promise of payment? You, Sister, have taken your vows and are as unlikely to return to England as I.”
Viola creased her brow. “I am a novice. I need only for a bishop to relieve me of my vows and of transport back to England. Frederick sent my request to Scotland and now we are waiting for a response. I will make it back to England. You can either assist me and receive your reward or leave me. I will find another.”
Frederick interjected. “’Tis true. She did send a letter. If you will not help, Uncle, I will. She needs us.” He puffed out his chest and placed his hand on a knife secured to his belt.
Loys sighed and put his hand on Frederick’s shoulder. “You are a good boy. And we always must help those less fortunate if we are able.”
Frederick’s face lit up. “But we are able.”
Loys looked at Viola. “We will do what we can, but it cannot be my first priority, unless you are able to procure a letter of passage. I do, after all, have a family to support.”
Viola nodded. “How will I contact you? I fear I will not be at market for quite some time.” She knew she couldn’t poison Collette again without creating suspicion.
Frederick piped up. “I will send you a message over the wall near the lilac tree. The one where the branches hang over the wall.
Viola knew the tree. “I will search for your message there. You best go. Sister Dauphine is returning.”
Loys tipped his hat and took Frederick’s hand. They disappeared behind the wagon before her companions returned.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
January 1566
Viola tossed a book onto a pile at her feet and reached for yet another on a bookcase in the library. The sisters had dispersed into the recreation room for their weekly reprieve from silence, not that they really adhered to the vow. Conversations were lowkey whispers, not loud enough for Mother Superior to notice. Viola wondered if the woman was becoming hard of hearing in her old age. For that matter, Viola was still unsure how much the abbess knew of Isabella’s actions.
For the last few months, Viola had patiently waited for word from the newly appointed Bishop of Ross or her father—to no avail. Not that she expected it. Though she tried to be present when a courier approached, there were many days when she had been placed where she couldn’t watch for him. And when she did, Isabella would scurry off into the abbess’s chambers to avoid Viola’s questions.
She did, however, receive word from Loys. Each evening after supper, Viola walked the perimeter of the convent. When she reached the lilac tree, she slowed he
r pace, intently searching the ground. The first message that she received revealed that James had been spotted in a tavern in the north, but when Loys arrived, he had disappeared. The second message reported that Loys was still in search of him. And the third message was a sweet biscuit wrapped in a piece of wax cloth. Viola knew that the last was a gift from Frederick to celebrate the twelve days of Christmas. A sweet gesture, but it didn’t soften her anger with Loys.
She skimmed the pages of another book and tossed it onto the pile on the floor. There has to be a reference, she thought to herself.
During the Christmas festivities, the sisters reenacted a tell-tale of King Henry VII during his time in France before he invaded England and took the throne from Richard III. It was a comedy filled with action and suspense, made more comical because the nuns forgot their lines, or would laugh uncontrollably while saying their lines. They tried to fight with wooden swords while tripping on their skirts. Even Viola began to enjoy the performance.
One scene replayed in her mind. A mystic handed a medallion to Henry Tudor (performed by Sister Francis) ensuring that, with it, Henry would reclaim the English throne. Viola had never heard the story told in this manner. The next day she asked Sister Anne who assured her that the story was a tell-tale told by the locals. After all, how could a talisman ensure the success of a true king?
Viola didn’t dismiss the story like Anne had. She needed to know. If the medallion possessed that kind of power, she would only need to find it and present it to the true Queen, whose reign over England would then be secure.
“Novice!”
Viola jumped and dropped the book in her hand.
The mistress of the novices stood at the doorway, arms crossed, glaring at her. “I surely hope you will not leave this mess for another to clean.”
Viola glanced to the dozens of books sprawled at her feet. “Of course not.”
“What, exactly, are you searching for?”
“The play last eve inspired me to learn more about King Henry’s time in France. I hoped I would find the information I sought within these books.”
A Perilous Beginning (The Pearl Heirloom Collection Book 4) Page 8