he gave me away!” Nell cried through her tears. “He and my mother. They didn’t want me, Sister Helen. They still don’t want me. They need a daughter, that’s all. It isn’t fair that my life should be turned upside down because they have changed their minds.”
Nell flung herself forward and Sister Helen’s arms closed around her. There was a long silence where the only sounds were the pot boiling on the burner and Nell crying. Then Sister Helen said quietly, “Listen to me, Nell. It may very well be that God has other plans for you than the convent. You will join the world of the great. You may be in a position to do much good. Perhaps that is God’s plan for you.”
Nell said into her shoulder, “That is what Mother Margaret said. But I don’t think it’s true. I think I was meant to be a nun.”
Sister Helen patted Nell’s back between her shoulder blades. “I think you should listen to Mother. She is a very wise woman, Nell.”
“I don’t want to leave you!” Nell cried passionately. “You have always been my best friend. You have been more my mother than my real mother ever was.”
Sister Helen put her hands on Nell’s shoulders and held her away. She looked into her streaming eyes. “God knows, I will miss you very much. Very much. But we must bow to His will, my dear. That is what we are put on this earth to do.”
“It is the will of my father,” Nell retorted through her tears. “I’m not so sure it is the will of God.”
Sister Helen tightened her grasp on Nell’s shoulders. “Listen to me, Nell. I know this is hard for you. Your life is going to be very different from the life you have known. But it’s important that you feel you are doing God’s work in your new life. It is easy to be religious in the convent—much harder in the world. But that is now your calling and you must embrace it, however hard it may be. Are you listening to me?”
Nell said in a trembling voice, “I am listening, Sister.”
“Good. Take pity on your father instead of blaming him. He is a man who has lost two children. And your mother, too. Show yourself to be a good daughter to them—they need you now.”
They never needed me before.
“Have you heard me, Nell?” Sister Helen asked gently.
Nell tried hard to stop crying. “I heard you, Sister. But I still think this is the wrong thing to do.”
“It is important that you make the best of the life that has been chosen for you,” Sister Helen said soberly. “Promise me you will think about what Mother Margaret and I have said.”
Nell didn’t answer.
“Nell?”
“I promise,” Nell said in a low voice.
Sister Helen squeezed Nell’s shoulders then dropped her hands. “I will miss you,” she said painfully.
“Oh, and I will miss you!”
At that, Sister Helen held out her arms once again and Nell went into them. Sister Helen held her tight. Nell could smell the faint aroma of herbs that always clung to Sister Helen’s clothes. “Can I come and visit you?” she asked.
“You will always be welcome.”
Finally Sister Helen relaxed her arms and Nell stepped back. The nun said briskly, “It is time for dinner. Let me take this pot off the fire and we can go up to the refectory.”
Nell sniffed and nodded and waited while Sister Helen turned off the stove and removed the pot. Then the two women walked up the hill together.
Three
It was late in the afternoon and the Earl of Wiltshire and his grandson were returning from inspecting the defenses of the many castles and manors whose lords owed fealty to the earl. The Earl of Wiltshire was one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, the overlord of demesnes in Wiltshire, Dorset, Somerset, Hampshire, Surrey, Buckinghamshire, Hertfordshire and Oxfordshire. As the country was braced for a civil war to break out between King Stephen and his cousin, the Empress Mathilda, the earl had thought it important to visit the lords who owed their feudal duty to him and to remind them that the earl had pledged his loyalty to King Stephen.
As the contingent of knights crossed Salisbury plain on their return to the earl’s main castle of Wilton, the sun shone on polished helmets and hauberks and shields, and the sheen of the horses’ coats almost equaled the brightness of the men’s armor. The summer day was breezy and the flag carried by the leading knight flew bravely. The jingle of the knights’ spurs and armor could be heard all along the road as they passed. Behind them came the pack horses carrying the household goods the earl considered necessary when he traveled: one horse was loaded with his dismantled bed, sheets, blankets and mattress, another with his wardrobe, another with the wine he favored and others still with the various items that contributed to his comfort.
The old man turned to his twenty-two-year-old grandson and said, “It will be good to get home. We’ve been away a long time.”
“It was early spring when we left and now it’s deep summer,” Roger replied. “But we had a good tour, I think.”
“It is wise to show your face once in a while,” the earl advised. “Remember that, my boy. There’s nothing like a little inspection to keep a man honest.”
“Yes, sir,” Roger said.
“I’m looking forward to sitting in my own hall, though,” the earl said. “I’m getting too old to be putting in so many hours in the saddle.”
Roger grinned. “You have more stamina than half of the knights, sir.”
“I put up a good front,” the earl grunted. “When we get home we can turn our thoughts to your wedding.”
Roger shifted his grip on the reins. “Ah, yes. The wedding. I still can’t believe you got the king to agree to it.”
“It was an enticement. He knows he needs to keep me loyal. If Wiltshire should go over to the empress it would be a catastrophe for Stephen. We hold sway over too much land for him to lose us.”
Roger shook his head in amazement. “But to join the earldoms of Wiltshire and Lincoln! The de Roches will be the most powerful family in the kingdom.”
The earl gave his grandson a sly smile. “I know. We will control all of Lincoln, as well as Wiltshire. We will sit astride the kingdom, Roger, as powerful as the king, and the Earl of Chester will be furious.”
“The present Earl of Lincoln is still very much alive, sir,” Roger pointed out. “The union of the two lordships won’t happen until he is dead. Only then will his daughter inherit.”
“Raoul de Bonvile wants what we want. He wants his blood to be foremost in the kingdom. That’s why he agreed to the marriage.”
They rode for a little way in silence, Roger’s thoughts on his upcoming union to this unknown girl. At last he said, “I hope Sybilla is pretty.”
“It doesn’t matter what she looks like,” the earl said. “What matters
