Viola blew on the document and held it out. “Here, present this to the Queen. I shall send my next letter shortly.”
He took the parchment and glanced at it. “What is this? This is not legible.”
“It is a code. A cipher of sorts. With this, the Queen will have the ability to translate my letters.”
The abbess walked into the room. “My apologies. I returned as soon as I could. There was an uproar in the infirmary.” She glanced at Viola and then the bishop.
“No apology necessary, Mother Superior. We were able to complete one of my letters, and you are correct—Novice Viola has excellent penmanship.” The bishop rolled up the parchment. “How fares Sister Isabella?”
“She is quite ill and the infirmary is filling up with others complaining of stomach pains. If you are done with Novice Viola, I believe her assistance would be most welcome in the infirmary.
Viola smiled. “Of course.” Overindulgence of rich foods. Yet another sin—gluttony.
* * *
Viola wiped her brow. For hours, she’d helped Lucia tend to the sick. Mother Superior excused them from prayer and her from the kitchens. They missed the bishop’s blessing of the chapel, the grand feast, within hours of which at least a half-dozen women entered the infirmary complaining of stomach pains.
The bishop planned to leave in the morning. She’d hoped that she could speak with him at least one more time. He didn’t agree to return her to England, let along remove her from the convent. She thought again that she’d revealed too much information, but he still wanted to know more.
Viola heard the pitter-patter of feet rustling down the hallway. She knew the sisters were sneaking out of their rooms to engage with the bishop’s attendants, for the bishop and his men would be leaving on the morrow.
Viola wasn’t in the mood to dwell over their misguided, grotesque behaviors. She had her own issues which needed tending to. She crawled between the coarse sheets and stared up at the moonlit ceiling.
She heard another set of footsteps, then saw light from underneath the door. She sighed. Whoever was in the hallway was now standing outside of her room. She wished whoever it was would go away; she didn’t want the abbess to think that she was involved with the evening’s indiscretions. Let them get in trouble; she wanted nothing to do with it.
At the creak of her opening door, Viola shot up in her bed. Sister Anne held up a lantern. “Novice Viola? Are you asleep, my dear?”
“No. There is much commotion this eve.”
Anne closed the door and stepped to the cot. “The bishop has again requested your presence. He said he could not wait ’til morn to speak with you.”
Viola sighed. “Does he not leave in the morn?”
“Aye. After the morning meal.”
She climbed from the covers. “I need to dress?”
“Of course.” Sister Anne set the lantern down on the table and picked up Viola’s smock from the chair.
The two were able to dress Viola in minutes. She donned her habit and tucked a loose piece of hair inside. Her small bags were hidden in her bedding, but last she knew, Isabella was asleep in the infirmary.
She followed Sister Anne through the cold, dark corridors and up the staircase.
“Are we not headed toward Mother Superior’s office?” Viola whispered.
Sister Anne stopped on a step and turned. The light of the lantern lit up Viola’s face. “Nay. The bishop is in the guest chambers. He appears distraught.”
If he is distraught, why does he summon me? Viola wondered to herself and quickened her pace. She hoped she hadn’t upset him with her words. She needed him to remove her from this place, not scold her for her opinion.
Sister Anne knocked on the door, then turned the handle. The bishop sat on a sofa near the blazing fire. Viola had no idea these rooms existed. They were the most decorated rooms in the entire convent, even better than her father’s at home. Beautiful tapestries depicting scenes from scripture covered the walls. A portrait of angels flying in the sky hung above the mantle painted with vibrant colors. She had no idea the convent could afford such luxuries. Of course they could, she thought. They used dowries and decorated rooms.
The bishop stood up and walked to the door. “Thank you, Sister Anne.”
She looked from the bishop to Viola and back. “Of course, Your Excellency.” She stepped from the room and the bishop closed the door.
“I pray I did not disturb your slumber.”
“No. I fear I had not fallen asleep.”
“Good.” He returned to the sofa and sat down. “I leave for England in the morning. There is much we have yet to discuss.”
Viola’s stomach tightened and her heart beat faster. Slowly, she took a deep breath. “And what is it we have to discuss?”
“You envisioned a way for the Queen to acquire the throne of England. You have not revealed your ideas.”
“They come with a price. As I have mentioned before, I wish to return to England.”
He leaned back. “Why? Do you not wish to remain with a flock of the faithful? The sisters adore you. You lack for nothing. You are able to sing, sew, pray...”
She tilted her chin and met his eyes. “This place is hideous. At this moment, I believe the sisters are currently entertaining your attendants.”
The bishop laughed. “If the women are willing, I see no issue.” He stood up and paced the room, slowly circling around Viola. “To remove you could be easily done, of course. There would be the matter of acquiring passage. What is it you would give in order to regain your freedom, as you say.”
Viola’s spin stiffened. “I would help the Queen to gain the throne.”
“You wish me to remove you simply for an idea? No. I am certain there are many who could assist me.”
Had Rachel Drovere not spoiled the spell, she would have riches beyond her imagining. He wanted something from her. She thought back to the jewels in her trunks. They had been returned to England with her father. All she needed to do was gain access to them.
“My belongings are at my father’s estate. Release me, and I will bestow my most prized possession.”
The bishop stopped pacing. “You offer your most prized possession?”
Viola held her breath. He might agree to her terms. “To be released from this place, yes. I would give my most prized and cherished possession. A large sapphire pendant. It belonged to my mother.”
“Hmm.” He started pacing again. “I do not require jewels or gold.”
Her heart sank. “That is all I have to offer. There is nothing more.” She paused. “No, there is more. I am able to offer you an army of men, though I would need a letter of passage.” She’d almost forgotten about Loys and his men. By securing the letter, she was certain that the men he spoke of would willingly follow them and fight for the true Queen.
She heard his shoes shuffle against the wooden floor, moving toward her. His face moved closer to the side of her head. She jumped when she felt the fabric from her black veil move from her neck.
He whispered in her ear. “There is something you possess which would secure your future, your desires.”
She could smell the sickly sweet, offensive odor of alcohol on his breath. His finger gently caressed her arm. Viola froze. She knew exactly what he wanted. It was what all the men wanted. She needed to regain control over the conversation. She would not sacrifice her virginity with such ease.
Viola took several steps forward and turned around. With all of the poise that she was taught, she lifted her chin and met his eyes. “Your Excellency, your attentions are far beyond my deserving.”
“But you are deserving, are you not?”
“Truly, Your Excellency, I am flattered. However, my mind would be of more assistance than my body.”
“Indeed.” He stepped closer to her. “Your mind is enchanting; your body arouses me. Remove your habit and let down your hair so I may see it.”
He reached for her; she stepped back just out of his gra
sp.
He glanced down at the floor. “I will procure the letters for your men and remove you, eventually. You have my word.”
Her mouth almost dropped open. He offered her what she’d been wanting. She could leave and return to England. But to do so… an image of Bonne and Andry appeared in her mind. The thought of this man taking her, as such, revolted her. “Your Excellency, I dare not relinquish my most precious possession. Relieve me of my vows and I shall find my own way back to England.”
He smiled. “No. I shall keep you here, while I work out what to do with you. Eventually, you may have a change of heart.”
Viola walked to the door. “I do believe our negotiations are complete for the evening.” She turned the handle and stepped from the room into the dark corridor.
With her fingers, Viola navigated the dark hallway to the stairs. Below, a hint of light from approaching a lantern caught her eye. With caution, Viola rounded the stairs and hid behind the stairwell until they passed by. She let out a breath. Though the bishop had requested her presence, she did not want to discuss the reason behind her being outside her cell at this time of night. How would she explain to the abbess the bishop’s requested to lie with her? Of all the horrors she had witnessed within these walls… she hoped the Bishop of Ross would have at least been honorable.
Viola slipped into her cell and quietly closed the door. He wanted to keep her here. If the bishop would have ensured her release, could she have given herself to him? She wasn’t sure if she could. Deep down, she was thankful he wouldn’t.
* * *
“Come. The bishop is preparing to depart,” Sister Judith called out.
After prayer, Mother Superior requested Viola’s assistance in the kitchens. She wondered if the bishop had informed her of their conversation. Viola hung her filthy apron on a peg. Once the bishop left, her stint in the kitchens would be over and she could take her walk near the walls of the convent to see if Frederick had left her a message. Of course, the eyes of Isabella and her followers would be watching Viola’s every move. She smoothed out her habit and followed the women to the entrance.
The carriage sat in front with trunks piled high on the top. Viola took her place in line; they were to give the bishop a grand goodbye. She watched as one of the bishop’s men winked at one of the new novices. The girl blushed, then averted her gaze. Viola wondered if the poor girl knew of the repercussions of lying with a man. She wondered, were a child born from the encounter, if Lucia could find the child a good home or if the child would have its breath removed from its body.
Mother Superior’s laughter broke Viola from her thoughts. They walked out of the front doors smiling and talking privately between themselves. The bishop must have given the abbess a compliment or flirted with her, as he had done the previous night with Viola.
He stepped into the sun and smiled at the party. He leaned over and spoke to the abbess once more before he stepped toward the carriage where a groomsman stood with the door open. The bishop glanced at the women and his eyes locked on Viola for a moment longer than necessary. He smiled at her, then turned and stepped into the carriage.
Had he been an honorable man, true to his Queen, The Bishop of Ross would have relieved her of her vows and taken her with him this day. But no. He kept her here, like an indentured servant making her promises for a price. Maybe she was too rash with her decision the night before. Should she have used her womanly wiles with the bishop like she’d done with Alexander? No. She would not bow down to his demands like a common whore. He should be bowing down to her for the information that she possessed, the ideas that she had, to grant the throne of England to the true and rightful Queen.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The tapestry was almost finished. Several women sat silently around a large banquet table tacking the warp ends. Viola peered out the window, lost in her own thoughts.
Since the bishop departed, duties around the convent hadn’t slowed down. They had the harvest to complete, vegetables to pickle, and the tapestry to complete for the Italian investor—all before winter set in.
Each week Mother Superior placed Viola according to whom she deemed as needing assistance.
Isabella recovered, too quickly for Viola’s liking and procured a young novice to test her food, much to the dismay of Mother Superior.
Novice Bonne tapped her on the shoulder and whispered. “Look.”
Viola glanced down. A carriage stopped in front of the doors and a man wearing a silk doublet, matching breeches, and hose stepped out, followed by four men who took their place on either side of him. Mother Superior quickly walked up to him and they spoke for a few moments before she showed him in.
Bonne raised her voice: “Oh my, the tapestry is not complete.”
So that was the Italian investor. He had arrived to pick up his tapestry, in all his majestic splendor. Viola sighed and went back to her needle and thread. It wasn’t long before Mother Superior and the investor entered the room.
“If you would, please, turn the tapestry for Master Ridolfi.”
The women secured their needles and lifted the heavy hanging just enough for him to view it. The man crossed his arms, evaluating the piece. He stepped forward and looked closely at the detail. “Exquisite, Mother Superior. When will it be ready?”
The abbess rolled her hands. “A day at most.” She nodded to the women for confirmation.
Master Ridolfi smiled. “Very good. This will be an excellent gift for Secretary Cecil.”
Viola’s head shot up. Secretary Cecil was Queen Elizabeth’s most trusted confidant, a supporter of the Protestants. Why would this man purchase a tapestry from a Catholic monastery to give it to a Protestant?
“Novice Viola,” the abbess intoned, “would you inform the kitchens that we have an important visitor this eve? And would you assist in the preparations?”
Viola looked at the investor and then back to the abbess. “Of course, Mother Superior.”
Yet again, she was being sent to the kitchens. Viola walked at a slow, even pace. If the abbess wanted the meal to be prepared more quickly for this traitor, she should have sent someone else.
Sister Judith became frantic with the short notice. She rushed around, whispering and pointing to the lay servants. She’d set Viola to preparing lavender bread. There would be neither time, nor grain enough, to bake for everyone, only for the Italian investor and his entourage.
Just before the bells tolled for prayer, Bonne ran into the kitchens and whispered in Judith’s ear. Sister Judith then spoke into the ear of another, who in turn, whispered into yet another ear. Viola shrugged it off and kneaded the dough.
Eventually, a novice whispered in her ear. “We are excused from prayer to finish preparations.”
Viola wondered why this investor was more important than the bishop, for those in the kitchens were not excused when he had visited.
Preparations were finally finished when the refectory filled up for the evening meal.
Sister Judith handed her a tray. “Would you serve? I do not want the embarrassment of one of mine making a mess, again.”
Viola took the tray into the refectory. Isabella smirked when Viola set a plate in front of her. She signaled to a novice. The girl stood up and silently walked over. She took a bite of bread and a spoonful of soup before she returning to her seat. Isabella watched the girl intently. Then when she was satisfied, Isabella began to eat.
Mother Superior and Master Ridolfi spoke quietly to each other.
“You plan to purchase all of the abandoned monasteries and convents?”
Ridolfi shook his head. “If I had the means, then yes. I have recently acquired a monastery just east of Plimmouth, in Cornwall. It lies in disarray and it will be years before I am able to repair it.”
On occasion, he would glance up, watching Viola. When she caught his eye, he looked away. He was like the others: interested in profiting from the faith and searching for something he could not have within these walls; at least, no
t from her.
Viola carried a large bundle to the laundry mistresses. She had offered, so as not to be set to washing pots and pans from the evening meal.
A young novice rushed to take the bundle from her. “Novice Viola,” she panted, “Mother Superior has requested you. She is in her chambers.”
She transferred the laundry to the novice’s arms and nodded. She’d taken a few steps when the novice whispered loudly, “Master Ridolfi is with her.”
Viola paused. Of course he is in the abbess’s chambers, she thought to herself. He is a wealthy man. Then she briefly wondered if Isabella was with them. She was, after all, more interested in coin than convent.
With small steps, she crossed the cloister. If Ridolfi was with the abbess, then why would they summon her?
Viola finally made it to the abbess’s chambers and was about to knock on the door when it opened. A lay servant nodded and smiled, carrying an empty tray. Viola let herself in.
She gave a slight curtsey.
“Novice Viola,” Mother Superior began, nodding. “Master Ridolfi and I were speaking of our most recent guest. I explained that you had scribed for the bishop and he had kind things to say about you.”
Viola nodded, unsure of what to say. They had a Protestant in their mist and he was interested in the Bishop of Ross?
Master Ridolfi crossed his legs, then took a drink from his goblet. “I hope to make his acquaintance during my journey to the northern regions. I am interested in learning more about his character.”
What would she say, that he was as loathsome as those here? “He is a man of good nature, dedicated to God and his Queen.”
“Pope Pius will be glad to hear of this. I will report it straight away.”
Viola lifted her brow and took a good look at this man. He had a long nose, small eyes, long graying hair. She remembered that he stood at the same height as the abbess. By all accounts, he appeared a wealthy investor. Yet... he came here to purchase a tapestry for an obscene amount of money and would report to the Pope. She smiled. This man was a spy. He had to be.
A Perilous Beginning (The Pearl Heirloom Collection Book 4) Page 12