Chapter 3
“You think to pawn me off upon strangers?” Kallen bellowed. “I’ll not go, Savina. I’d rather sell myself on the streets of London than do what you ask.”
Savina laughed. “You always have had a bit of drama in you, Kallen.” The nun clucked her tongue. “I would have thought with my new title as abbess of this convent that you might show me a touch of respect.”
“Respect? You encouraged me to question any and everything from the time I toddled about, unsteady on chubby feet. You, my eternal friend, nurtured what you called my mischievous spirit. I might never have become the troublemaker I’m known to be without your words of advice, Savina.
And you think I should show you respect simply because of an office you now hold?
Why, you have become Evil Incarnate. ‘Tis the spirit of Mother Superior that now inhabits you. I declare she has invaded your very soul, else you’d never think to throw me out into the cold. ”
Savina bit her lip.
Kallen knew she always did that to keep from laughing. Anger bubbled up again, but she held her tongue.
In truth, she was frightened. Savina’s wild tale of a wicked earl somehow ruining her mother, and the part Bevia’s own father played in leaving her here at the convent without his family knowing, was too fantastic.
And now she was to go to this family of strangers when she’d known nothing but the walls of this place?
The thought scared her—and yet it intrigued her.
Kallen had long ago grown weary of the confining routines of the nunnery, how the nuns shunned her for being different, how she had no calling to serve as a Bride of Christ. She often longed to see what lay beyond this boredom, but she’d no money to finance such an adventure.
She loathed the thought of being a servant, for she hated to clean.
Mother Superior saw to that. She instructed the nuns to give Kallen the most deplorable cleaning tasks found both inside and outside the convent.
Kallen never had a chance to learn to sew, nor had she been allowed to cook, as others residing within the nunnery’s walls did on a regular basis.
She didn’t think she could beg on the streets, for she had far too much pride.
Now, though, was her chance to escape. She had family, the very thing she’d longed for. Why did she rebel at the chance to see them?
“I know you to be as curious as I once was, Kallen. I have been as a mother to you, and you have been the daughter of my heart. I now speak to you, however, as a friend. You must go with this trusted knight. He will take you to your uncle and his wife.”
“You’ll finally be rid of me!” Kallen accused. “Oh, I always suspected you knew of my origins. Who my father was. You hid the truth from me, Savina.”
Her friend grew serious. “’Twas Mother Superior who kept the truth from you. I only followed her orders.”
“The abbess would not have recognized the truth if it had bitten her, Savina. You know it to be so.”
The nun grinned. “You are correct, Kallen. But she is no longer here. Nothing binds you to this place. You should be eager to leave. To start a new life. You’ve often said you felt like an outcast among the pious nuns.
Here is your chance at freedom. Take it.
Go to Lord and Lady de Mangeron. Or are you afraid? ”
Savina knew her too well. Kallen lifted her chin high. “I’m not afraid. I am just going to miss you, ‘tis all. I don’t know if you’ll be able to manage without me underfoot.”
The new abbess threw her arms about Kallen.
“Oh, my precious love, my dearest child. Do you not know I will be beside myself without you in my life? Pushing you from my nest is by far the hardest task God has ever given me to do.” Savina gripped Kallen’s shoulders.
“‘Tis right, though. You must fly on your own now, my sweet dove.
“Besides, I have a nunnery to run. After years of darkness, I find my work is cut out for me. I intend to bring God’s love and light back into the lives of these good sisters. Christ Himself knows ‘tis far too long since they’ve seen it, much less been given a kind word.”
Kallen rested her forehead against Savina’s and basked in the warmth of her friend’s love, the friend who had been more like a mother to Kallen than her own. Then she pulled away.
“When am I to embark upon my adventure?”
“I expect you’ll be gone in two days’ time.”
Griffith decided to go himself, instead of sending a messenger to the gates of the convent.
The delicate nature of his mission led him to believe that action the most appropriate.
He halted Satan as the nunnery came into his sights and turned the horse in order to face the band of men that had accompanied him.
Crispin had sent nothing but the finest knights on this journey.
They numbered ten. All were not only skilled warriors but loyal to the de Mangerons.
A man of his time, Renton had ruled his home and his men through fear.
In Crispin’s short tenure as earl, things at Mangeron had changed for the better.
These men accompanied Griffith because they wanted to, because it was what their liege lord asked of them.
They’d been told very little, other than they were to escort an important member of the de Mangeron family safely home.
Griffith decided that his friend could share what he wanted of Kallen’s past with his people.
He would simply accomplish his task and return home, his debt to Crispin finally paid.
This trip was nothing but a pleasant interlude in his otherwise dull life.
He would see the girl back to Mangeron without incident and then return to…
To what?
It didn’t matter. Nothing did anymore, except Deva’s happiness. He would move heaven and earth for his beloved sister. If returning this Kallen to the castle made Crispin happy, then Deva would bask in her husband’s glow. That was reason enough for Griffith.
“I must visit with the abbess for a spell,” he informed those gathered near.
“She has kept a safe watch over Lady Kallen for Lord de Mangeron.
I may be gone a few hours, but I shall return to you no later than nightfall.
Make a temporary camp, for we will stay only the one night.
‘Tis likely Lady Kallen will wish us to make haste and travel as far as possible on the morrow.”
Griffith gave specific orders to a few men and then spurred his horse toward the gates of the convent.
He was allowed within, a slight nun of no more than a score taking his ebony horse and promising to water and feed it well.
Griffith thought it wise to keep Satan’s name to himself.
No sense in frightening off the good sister, much less denying Satan a little bit of spoiling after their week-long journey.
Although the horse could be a handful at times, Satan seemed relatively well-behaved for the moment.
Another nun accompanied him through the massive oak doors into the nunnery itself, where the hall’s floor gleamed from long hours of polishing. He followed her up a wide staircase and down several turns along a dim corridor before they stopped before a door.
It opened almost immediately, and Griffith found himself in the company of a slender woman with small laugh lines about her eyes.
Her severe black habit was tied with a leather belt.
Her wimple and veil hid her hair. Tiny in stature, he perceived her to be capable and loving at the same time, a fine balance he assumed all abbesses must maintain.
“I heard a man’s footsteps and knew it had to be you. I am Sister Savina, abbess of this humble convent.” She bowed her head graciously.
“Sir Griffith Sommersby, Abbess. I am sent by Lord Crispin de Mangeron to escort Lady Kallen back to Mangeron.”
“Oh!” The nun looked taken aback. “I suppose I’ve never quite thought of her that way. She’s always been plain Kallen to me since the day she emerged kicking and screaming from Bevia’s womb.” The nun pondered things a moment. “I rather like it. Lady Kallen. It suits her.”
Griffith admired this nun’s plainspoken manner. She had none of the devious double-talk most churchmen espoused.
“Did you have a hand in raising Lady Kallen, Abbess?”
The older woman laughed aloud, her eyes merry. “Oh, more than a hand, my lord. I’ve been the only mother Kallen has known. And quite a handful she is. Why—”
A sudden blur burst from the other side of the door and flew across the room, stopping in front of him.
“Savina, you’re telling tales again, aren’t you?
Now that you’re the new abbess, I would have expected better from you.
Besides, I thought you wanted this nice nobleman to take me off your hands.
Do you not think telling him wicked accounts about me might cause him to regret his mission and leave without accomplishing it? You are impossible, you know.”
The girl turned to face Griffith and inclined her head a brief moment before raising it and locking her gray eyes to his.
“I am Kallen, my lord. Not nearly as bad as Savina warns. Probably not very good, either, but I will leave you to be the judge of that after we’ve spent some time in each other’s company.
I hear that it will be a week’s journey or more to this. .. place we venture.”
Griffith could only stare. He hadn’t really pictured Kallen de Mangeron in his mind. It hadn’t been of importance to him.
Before him was more woman than girl, though. The most ethereal beauty he had ever seen. There was a look of Crispin about her, around her eyes and mouth. Griffith suddenly wished he could remember what Bevia had looked like.
Even so, this woman was striking. Tall, curvaceous, and with the most flawless complexion he’d ever seen.
Her gray eyes, sparkling with mischief now, complimented the silken, straight, silvery blond hair.
Griffith had never seen a woman with such natural beauty.
Those at court would envy Lady Kallen’s original looks.
Then it hit him. Her hair was the color of Quentin’s, the man who’d raped her mother.
Hair this unusual would be the talk upon every servant’s lips, and the oldest of the family’s servants would certainly put together what had happened—Bevia’s removal from Mangeron and her sudden “death.” A child now returned home after so many years.
Would the de Mangerons truly be accepting of Kallen? Crispin had not seen her on his trip to the convent. How would he and his mother react? Could they welcome Kallen into their castle and wipe away the sins from the past?
Griffith suddenly felt very protective of Kallen de Mangeron.