Conquering William (25 page)

Sister did always seem to wedge herself between them. Alice nodded.

“So here is my suggestion,” William said. “Let Sister return to the convent for the winter. Give us some time without her, and if you like, we can send for her again come spring.”

Most men would have sent Sister away for her meddling and her viper tongue. “You will let her return in the spring?”

“If you desire it.” William cupped her cheeks in his palms. “It shall be done.”

She still had to get Sister to agree to his plan, but Alice liked the plan. The idea of time with William without Sister lurking in the hall sent a tingle through her. “I will speak with her.”

“In the meantime, we are both wet and dirty.” William slung an arm about her shoulder and walked them toward the keep. “What say you to bathing?” He leant to her ear. “Together.”

As if she needed to think on that for more than a moment. “Aye,” she said. “Aye, thrice over.”

Alice broke her fast before going to see Sister.

Dressed and seated beside the hearth with her rosary draped across her lap, Sister appeared much more rested than the day before.

“Good morrow.” Alice searched for a clue to her mood. “Are you feeling better this morning?”

“Indeed, Alice.” Sister looked up and gave a thin smile. “I believe I was not myself yesterday.”

It both relieved and concerned Alice. Although it boded well for Sister’s mood, it made the coming conversation harder to have. Alice dragged up a stool and took a seat across from Sister. “You look better.”

Sister pinned her with a stare. “I feel better.”

“And you look it.”

“Alice.” Sister slapped her palms onto her lap. “I have known you for too long for you to sit there with your mouth full of teeth. Whatever you came here to say, say it and be done with it.”

Alice scooted her…ass…back on the stool. “I spoke with William yesterday.”

“He is your husband. I imagine you have much to say to each other.”

“Indeed.” A strangled giggle escaped Alice. Lord, she wished she had let William speak with Sister, but that would be cowardly and unfair to Sister. “We were speaking of you.”

“Go on.” Sister stilled, her rosary between her fingers.

“You at Tarnwych.”

“Ah.” Sister sighed and stared into the flames. “I thought this might come.” She cocked her head and gave a rueful smile. “You want me gone from Tarnwych.”

“Nay.” Alice took Sister’s hands. “Tarnwych is your home and you are welcome here for as long as I am here.” Now, why had she said that? Because she desired to comfort Sister. William had agreed to no such thing. “At least, Tarnwych has been your home for many years and William knows that.”

Sister pulled her hands away. “When do I leave?”

“William has sent Cedric to the convent.”

“Is that what you came here to say?” Sister’s face grew colder than the walls in mid-winter. “Then you may leave. I seem to have some packing to do.”

“Nay.” Helpless frustration clogged her words, and Alice clenched her hands in her lap. “It is not forever. Just for the winter.”

“Indeed.” Sister limped to her clothes chest and opened it. “I am to go away for the winter and come back when?”

“In the spring.” Alice rushed to help. She pulled out a few worn chemises and two habits. “William felt it would be good for us to have a little time for he and I to get to know one another better.”

“I am sure he did.” Sister snatched the clothing from Alice’s hands and laid it on her pallet. “And I am sure I will see Sir William at the convent doors as soon as the snow has thawed.”

“Perhaps not that soon.” Alice stood there feeling useless as Sister unpacked her chest. Some pots of herbs, a few vials of different colored liquid, a tub of soap, a comb, and some bath linens. Other than her Bible, Sister seemed to have no little keepsakes or remembrances of her over twenty years amongst them. “But I will send for you.”

“Alice, Alice, Alice.” Sister’s chuckle sounded hollow as she gathered her meager belongings from the floor beside the chest. “I honestly think you believe that.”

“I do, because it is true.” Words in her defense rushed to the fore. “William promised me it would be so, and I believe him.”

“Of course you believe him.” Sister slammed the empty chest and positioned her pots and things in a straight line beside the clothing.

“William does not lie.”

“Of course he does not.” Sister grabbed her cloak and two wimples from the clothes tree. “He always tells you enough truth to make the accusation of a lie ridiculous.”

Did William do that? He had said Sister could return if she desired it. And she would desire it. So, not entirely an evasion. “I give you my word.”

“Your word.” Sister shook her head. With a snap she shook out her cloak before folding it. “Your word is not what it once was, Alice.”

Sister accused her of falsehood? Alice blinked back the sting. “I keep my word.”

“Oh, Alice.” Her arms blurring in a series of jerks, Sister folded her wimples into tiny squares of cloth and laid them atop her cloak. “You are so blinded that you no longer see. Your head has been completely turned by his fair form and his honeyed words. He calls you ‘my Alice’ and you melt beneath his charm. I have seen it with my own eyes.”

Melt? Now Sister bordered on insulting. Aye, William did have a certain effect on her, but to hear Sister tell it, she stood powerless beneath his mesmerizing presence. He did have a way of making her thoughts run awry. Particularly when he took it upon himself to bathe every inch of her. A delicious little shiver raced through Alice.

“Even now.” Sister heaved an enormous sigh. “He sneaks into this room and robs your thoughts.”

Her thoughts were not helping. The images skulked to the back of her mind. “You and William do not get on. The entire keep has noted it.”

“We do not.” Sister put her shoulders back. “I have made my disapproval clear for all to see.”

“And whilst you are fighting, William and I cannot forge a strong union.”

“These are William’s words.” Sister stomped over to the washstand. “You have never uttered a desire to forge a strong union with any of your previous husbands.”

“William is different.”

“In this we are in agreement.” Sister cradled her plain wooden cross. She laid it atop the small pile of folded garments, then rearranged it so the Christ figure lay perfectly in the center. All Sister’s worldly possessions would only half-fill a travel sack. “I do not blame you, Alice.”

“Oh?” Sister had changed direction again, and Alice scrambled to keep up.

“You have been enslaved, bewitched. Nay, I blame myself.”

Alice had no idea what Sister meant, and she put a questioning expression on her face.

“The Lord set me to stand against evil and I have failed. I have been too vehement, too outspoken in my righteousness. It is mete that I return to the convent and pray and reflect on my failings.”

“Sister, I do not believe William is evil.” William had far too many noble traits to fit the mold into which Sister would shove him.

“Evil does not always show its face to the world,” Sister said. “Nay, Alice. This is the best way. I will return to the convent. If God judges me worthy to resume my duties, I will see you in the spring.” Sister folded her hands beneath her scapula. “This is the end for us, Alice. God be with you.”

God be with you. Just like that. All these years with Sister by her side, over with a simple God be with you and a nod.

* * * *

Alice took her seat in the hall the next morning. All the Anglesea children sat around the table, and it pleased her that she managed to greet all three with a pleasant smile. Even if it did conceal her pounding heart.

She needed to discover the cause of this upset with Mathew. When she thought about it calmly, she could see no reason for her fear. Then the dream of the other night would pop into her head, and the fear would threaten to overcome her.

“William has broken his fast and is with the men,” Beatrice said.

“In this weather?” Wind from the north streamed dull, heavy clouds. That wind would cut straight through the thickest cloak.

“Aye. William does not let much stop him.” A wicked grin took over Beatrice’s face. “He said to give you his special regards.”

“What does that mean?” Richard peered at his mother. “And why is Lady Alice all red?”

Ivy winked at her.

Ducking her head to her meal, Alice tried to hide her hot cheeks.

Adam smacked the table with the flat of his palm, demanding his mother feed him.

“Aye, Sir Adam.” Beatrice nuzzled her son. “I will get to filling that belly of yours. Just like your father, are you not?”

“Gah!” Adam bobbed on his mother’s lap and grasped at air with his chubby fingers. Little fingers made for nibbling on.

William and Beatrice must have broken their fast every morning with the happy sounds of chatter and life all about them. Alice would have her children grow up the same way.

“You should keep the children inside this day.” Alice accepted her bread and meat from the serving woman. “The wind comes from the north and will be icy.”

“I am not afraid of the cold.” Richard stuck his little chest out.

“Maybe not,” Beatrice said. “But I am, and you cannot go outside on your own.”

Poor lads. With winter closing in, the weather would try their patience by keeping them indoors. “We could get one of the serving women or the squires to—”

“Ah, nay.” Ivy glanced at Beatrice. “There was some trouble a little while back with Lady Faye’s children. Beatrice always watches them herself.”

She should have thought before she opened her mouth. “I beg your pardon.” William had told her the story of how Faye’s late husband had kidnapped her oldest son from just beyond Anglesea’s walls. “I did not think.”

Beatrice waved her off with a shrug. “Of course not, and I know we are being a bit foolish. Garrett twits me about it all the time. There is no reason for me to be so careful, but…” She ruffled Richard’s hair.

He ducked away with a growl.

If those boys had been hers, Alice would have guarded them like a wolf bitch. Motioning Richard to her, she said, “Those of us who grew up in the North know all about having to stay in. I am sure we can come up with a good game for inside.”

Richard sidled closer, scowling and chewing his apple. “William is allowed outside.”

“William is a big boy,” Beatrice said.

“My lady.” Seamus entered the hall, his cheeks chapped bright red from the wind. “There is a messenger from the south.”

Beatrice and Ivy rose as a squire entered the hall behind Seamus. His clothes stained with hard travel, the man wore a grim expression. “Lady Beatrice,” he said. “I bring news from Anglesea.”

“What is it, Oliver?”

Oliver looked at the floor before lifting his head.

Beatrice paled and grabbed the table edge. “It is bad, is it not?”

Alice rose and put a steadying hand beneath her elbow.

“Is my mother…?”

“Nay, my lady.” Oliver hurried forward. “There is no change with the Lady Mary, but Nurse is very concerned for her. She urges you to remain here until this is passed. Sir Roger is fully recovered, as is your father. The message I carry is for Mistress Ivy.”

Ivy folded her hands before her, twisting her fingers together. “What is it?”

“It is Tom, mistress.” Oliver wrung the edges of his cloak. “He fell ill whilst on his farm. It was days before we discovered him, and he is very bad.”

Beatrice clasped Ivy’s hands.

Ivy stood still as the dead, barely breathing.

Beatrice found her voice first. “Is he…does Nurse believe he might…?”

“She said to tell you to prepare for the worst,” Oliver said.

With a whimper Ivy collapsed on the bench behind her. Her hands shook as she took up her water goblet. “I must go to him.”

“Nay, mistress.” Oliver stepped up to the dais table. “Nurse said you would say that, and she told me to tell you, in the strongest terms, that you must not come. She said to say you will do Tom no good if you come home merely to die.”

Beatrice dropped beside Ivy and wrapped an arm about her shoulders. “He is strong, Ivy. Tom is healthy as an ox. He will get better.”

Ivy stared at the water in her goblet. She shot to her feet, dropping the goblet. The bench screeched across the flags. “Thank you, Oliver. If you will excuse me.”

Beatrice stood and ran after her. “Ivy, wait.”

The women disappeared up the stairs.

Oliver stood before the dais, twisting his cloak.

“Thank you.” William had mentioned Tom when telling her of Beatrice’s adventures. Clearly, he meant a lot to both Beatrice and Ivy. She smiled at Oliver. “You must be tired. Can I get you something to eat before you seek your rest?”

“Thank you, my lady.” Oliver managed a wan smile. “It is a long way from Anglesea.”

“Indeed.” Alice motioned a serving woman closer. “Please see Oliver fed, and make sure he has a place to rest after his ride.”

Tildy eyed Oliver up and down and grinned. He was a nice looking lad. Alice would give Tildy that.

“Come along,” Tildy said and swished her skirts out of the hall with Oliver following.

Richard turned and stared at her.

Adam banged the table for more food.

Beyond the little ones, Mathew stared after Beatrice and Ivy.

“Now we finish our meal.” Alice scooped Adam onto her lap. “And then I will teach you a good game.”

“Not like the ponies.” Richard eyed her suspiciously. “There were no ponies.”

Snorting, Alice passed Adam a hunk of bread to squeeze. “That is how much you know. The ponies were there. We just did not find them.”

“Huh.” Richard stuffed a slice of ham into his mouth.

“You will choke,” Alice said. “And then I will not be able to teach you my game.”

Richard chewed and swallowed, eyes huge.

Mathew watched her, with a quiet patience.

Alice waited for Adam to stop smacking the table for more food and then she rose. The other two boys followed her deeper into the hall. Kitchen drudges cleared the trestle tables against the wall and left a large, clear area, enough space to work off the energy of three young boys.