Chapter 10
They arrived at the abbey late the next afternoon, and a rather sorry caravan they were with the tether of pack mules, twenty-six cats, five rabbits, and two ducks.
But William and Linnet cared not, for they rode on the same horse, stopping every so often to exchange kisses and lingering looks of love.
Once a proud castle that guarded the borderlands, St. Lawrence Abbey was perched atop a lush and green English hillside.
Guards with crossbows no longer stood sentinel at the battlements.
The only things on those crenellated walls were doves cooing at the sunshine and a trumpeter who heralded arrivals.
Now those who came to the abbey sought succor not from men and arms, or marauding barbarians, but from nuns skilled in healing the body, the mind, and the spirit.
Ducks and swans floated in the waters of the moat and sheep grazed fields.
The armory, built for pounding out weapons and mail, was now just a building used for drying herbs and brewing medicinals.
Lush ivy and tansy threaded with pale roses meandered up an iron trellis on the castle tower that was no longer a stronghold, but a peaceful place to find strength of mind.
William and Linnet rode through the curtain wall gates and reined in before the massive abbey doors just as matins were chiming. He dismounted and helped Linnet down, pausing to hold her for a moment longer than necessary.
The abbey doors flew open and a bevy of dark-garbed nuns trotted down the stone steps.
"Linnet!"
She turned in William's arms and laughed, then ran to a tall and regal-looking woman. "Aunt Bess!"
Just then another person came down the steps.
"Grandpapa?"
William went as still as stone. His angry gaze met Arden's. Slowly he walked toward the steps until he faced the earl. The tension grew thick and hung like fog in the air. Slowly, the other voices tapered off.
"Arden," William snapped.
"Warbrooke."
"Warbrooke?" Linnet repeated. She spun around and looked at William. "Baron Warbrooke?"
He nodded.
There was a moment of puzzled silence as she looked from him to her grandfather, then back to him. Her face fell and he could see her reaction. "You are not William de Ros?"
"I am William de Ros, Baron Warbrooke."
"How could you? How could you do this? Am I nothing but a foolish woman to you that you would play such a cruel trick?" She looked back. "And Grandpapa? You knew?"
He nodded tightly.
"Why?"
"I had no choice, Linnet. "I had your welfare at heart."
"Ha!" William shouted. "You didn't want me to have her, old man."
Arden cursed and charged. His fist hit William square in the chin and flattened him to the ground. "She's mine!"
"Bloody hell, she is!" William roared up and tackled Arden. They rolled in the dirt, punching and shouting, calling each other names that should have never been spoken on the grounds of an abbey.
Arden jumped to his feet and so did William. "1 granted you that week alone with her!"
"You sent those knights," William gritted.
Arden wiped his mouth, panting. "They had instructions not to kill you."
Linnet gasped.
William saw red and flew at him. They tumbled again each trying to get to the other. Arden straddled him and had his hands about William's throat while he shouted.
"Stop!" Linnet screamed. "Stop!"
A wall of water hit them both. Arden released him and coughed. William shook the water from his head and stared at her. She tossed a water bucket on the ground and glared down at them. "I'm not yours, Grandpapa."
William grinned.
"And you can wipe that fool’s smile off your face Baron Warbrooke because I'm not yours either!" Tears fell from her eyes like blood from a deep wound. "I'm not some piece of land for the both of you to wage war over! I don't belong to either of you! Do you hear me?”
Both men stared at her in dumbfounded silence.
"And you can cease your fighting because neither of you will win this battle. I'm not going with either of you. Do you hear me? Neither of you! I'm going to become a nun!" And with that pronouncement she burst into sobs and ran inside the abbey.
William watched the door close behind her and stared at it. He swiped at his bloody mouth with the back of hand. And he felt more alone at that moment than he had ever felt in his hard and solitary life.
"Come, come, my dear. Stop your crying."
Linnet looked up at her aunt through a mist of tears. "I shall become a nun, Aunt. I shall."
"Tell me why would you want to become a nun?"
She wiped her tears. "Because there are no men in a convent."
"Aye, dear one. That is a high point," her aunt said wryly. "You have no idea how very many women feel the same."
Linnet snorted, then said, "The more men I meet, the more I understand."
Her aunt smiled, then her face grew serious. "I'm most concerned with your happiness."
"I could be happy here." She could be happy here. Someday. If she could forget.
"I think, Linnet, that you could be happy anywhere. And I'd love to have you near me, but then if I let you do this I'd be as guilty of coveting your company as my foolish brother and the Baron Warbrooke."
"But I want to be a nun."
Her aunt gave her a long and assessing look. "Could you spend the rest of your life wedded only to God?"
Linnet's gaze dropped to her hands.
"Devoted to Him with all your heart and soul?"
Her heart belonged to William. She had given it to him on a magical midsummer's eve. She sighed. "No. My heart is no longer mine to give."
Her aunt reached a gentle hand and tilted her head up. "I thought as much. The Baron Warbrooke?"
She nodded.
"Can you not find it in your heart to forgive him?"
"He lied to me and played me for a fool. I loved him." She raised her chin. "I have my pride." She paused, then added, "And there is Grandpapa too. How could he do that to me?"
"Your grandfather has always acted before he thought. Old fool. But he loves you. More than any other member of his family. I think perhaps he only wanted to keep you safe. Did he not tell you of the vow he made to your mother?"
She shook her head.
"He is a prideful old fool," she muttered.
"He promised her, when you were born, the day she died, that he would never force you to wed.
You see, he had forced her, and for all that she loved your sisters and wanted you, she was never happy.
He always blamed himself for your mother's death. I think he tried to protect you."
Linnet thought about how her grandfather would deal with his feelings of guilt. Not very well.
Her aunt rose from her chair and said, "You need some time alone. Search your heart and see if you cannot understand why these men act like such fools. Pray. Ask God to help you, my dear. Ask Him to help you forgive."