Sister, I am truly sorry.’
Sister Christine tucked her hands into the sleeves of her habit. ‘You were out a long time; I cannot think what you were doing.’
Isobel opened her mouth to explain that Lucien had been with her every moment, but the nun shook her head. ‘Don’t tell me, tell Reverend Mother.’ She gestured towards the Abbey church. ‘You will find her in the Lady Chapel.’
Swallowing down a sigh, Isobel went into the church, pausing by the wooden screen that separated the Lady Chapel from the nave. The Abbess was sweeping up damaged fragments of stone, along with Elise and a couple of novices, and when she noticed Isobel, she thrust her broom at a novice.
‘Lady Isobel, I realise you were shocked at the loss of the relic, but you went into the town without your cloak. Without a maid. What were you thinking?’
‘I am sorry, Reverend Mother, there was no time to fetch my cloak. And Count Lucien did act as my escort.’
‘Apparently, you ran off at such a pace, you did not wait to see whether the Count had followed you or not. It is your good fortune that he did, although I am sure he must have been appalled by such unseemliness. Lady Isobel, you must learn to curb these impulses, and comport yourself with decorum. You cannot forget your status for a moment. Soon you will be the Countess d’Aveyron—you should not be running about Troyes like an unruly child. And most certainly you should not rely on Lord d’Aveyron to chase after you and see you safe.’ Her nostrils flared. ‘I trust you are unharmed.’
‘I am.’
‘Praise be. You are fortunate that Count Lucien is an honourable man. A less scrupulous one might have seized the opportunity to take advantage of you.’
Isobel stared at the cross on the Abbess’s breast. What would she say if she knew we followed the thief into a brothel? What would she say if she knew that Lucien—this honourable man—had seized on the chance to kiss me? In public. In the Black Boar.
Isobel caught Elise’s sympathetic gaze on her and resisted sending her a smile. Abbess Ursula was treating her like a naughty child, but she refused to be cowed. As the Abbess had said, she would soon be the Countess d’Aveyron.
‘Reverend Mother, I ran from church because I saw the thief. I hoped to catch him.’ The words tumbled out. ‘He was lurking by the north door—stuffing something into his pouch. I swear it was the Limoges reliquary—I saw blue enamel, gold—’
‘Be that as it may, it is not your concern. You should not have run out in so unladylike a manner.’ Abbess Ursula turned to Elise. ‘And as for you, you should have known better. Why did you not stop her?’
‘My actions are my own, please do not blame Elise,’ Isobel said. ‘Reverend Mother, I am sorry if you think my behaviour was wrong.’
‘You thought to catch the thief yourself.’ The Abbess raised an eyebrow in so supercilious a manner that Isobel recalled her royal ancestry. She looked very regal. ‘What if Count Lucien had not followed you? What if you had met with violence?’
‘I was trying to help. Your Order has been good to me, I am especially grateful for the care I received at St Foye’s.’
‘You do not repay us by placing yourself in harm’s way. Viscount Gautier sent you here so we could keep you safe until your marriage. If anything should happen to you in the meantime, the reputation of our Order would be tarnished, perhaps irreparably. Who would send their daughters to us, if they came to harm?’
‘My apologies, Reverend Mother.’
‘And there are other concerns that in your haste you did not take account of …’
Isobel clenched her teeth. ‘Yes?’
‘By running off in so wild a manner you risked alienating Count Lucien. Did you see any sign that he was put off by your recklessness?’
Isobel did not know how it was, but Abbess Ursula’s question evoked a vivid memory of a sensuous mouth pressing against hers, of a masculine arm winding possessively about her waist …
‘Count Lucien gave no sign that he was alienated,’ she murmured. We crossed swords a little, but I do not think I alienated him.
‘You are blessed.’ The Abbess made a sound of intense disapproval. ‘The town fills with felons every year because of the fair. Which is why the Guardian Knights have been established. It is their duty to deal with miscreants, not yours.’
‘Yes, Reverend Mother, I know. Count Lucien has explained this to me.’
‘Has he? That is all to the good. We shall leave this folly behind us. In future, I trust you will think twice before indulging in such impulses. If God wills it, the relics will be returned. I have faith that He will also deal with the man who committed this sacrilege.’ Abbess Ursula frowned at the ruined altar frontal, and turned for the nave. ‘Sisters, follow me. Lady Isobel and Elise can finish the sweeping. And after that there is a yard or so of border on the altar cloth to be worked.’ She held Isobel’s gaze. ‘I should like it as much as possible to be finished before you leave the Abbey.’
Chapter Five
The next morning, with no word from Lucien about moving out of the convent, Isobel had to assume the palace was fully occupied. While she waited to hear from him, she used the embroidering of the altar cloth to distract herself from worrying that, once again, Lucien had abandoned her.
The wind had changed overnight, and a brisk easterly was gusting over Troyes. Instead of sewing in the stronger light of the courtyard, she and Elise took refuge half in and half out of a small storage room in a quiet corner of the cloisters. There was no window, so they sat by the doorway with their cloaks about their shoulders and the blue altar cloth stretched between them. If she leaned forwards, Isobel could see the sky. Clouds scudded past like flocks of sheep.
Isobel was glad of the chance to talk quietly to Elise—she had much to learn and she sensed that Elise could help her. However, a barrage of questions would not be welcome. She must tread carefully.
Elise, what brings you to this Abbey?
No, she could not ask that, that was far too probing.
As for the subject Isobel most burned to discuss—Elise, what is it like to bed with a man? It wouldn’t be easy working that into conversation—she had only met Elise a couple of days ago. Even Lady Anna, whom Isobel had known for years, had shown reluctance to discuss her discomfort at what happened when a man bedded his wife.
Details had been scant. Isobel needed to know more. What is it like? Does it hurt every time? She had no idea why she supposed Elise might know the answer to that last question, save instinct. Elise was no innocent.
The nuns at St Foye’s Convent, while elaborating on the wifely duties, had been silent on the more carnal aspects of marriage. It was not surprising. How could nuns who lived chastely know of such things? Carnal experiences were forbidden to them. The sisters had made up for their lack of experience in that area by speaking most eloquently on the importance of a wife denying herself. A wife must—they insisted—put her husband first in all things. Denial was their watchword.
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