The Nun's Betrothal

by Ida Curtis

  When Philip raised his face from his hands, his eyes had lost their sparkle. “You have both done a great deal to help me. I promise I’ll stay away from Lord Metcalf and Emma until I hear I’m welcome. But I won’t stay here with you.”

  In spite of Philip’s promise, Justin was suspicious. “Where will you go?” he asked.

  “Leonardo and I will keep out of trouble and out of your way until tomorrow morning. Then we will return here.”

  Leonardo immediately objected. “I’m not leaving Justin and Gilda on their own,” he replied.

  As soon as the words had left Leonardo’s mouth, he realized what he was saying and guessed that Philip’s intention was to give the newlywed couple some privacy. A slight smile on his lips, Leonardo corrected himself, “I think Philip has the right idea. I’ll go with him.”

  Neither Gilda nor Justin tried to dissuade them.

  The two men were quick to take their leave, and Gilda and Justin were finally alone. The room was suddenly quiet, and Justin, who had followed the men to the door, turned to find that Gilda stood across the room from him. Justin saw that she avoided meeting his eyes.

  “Philip has matured in the short time we’ve known him,” Gilda said, glancing out the window to where the men had disappeared.

  “Yes, I guess he has,” Justin agreed, moving a few steps closer to her.

  Still not looking directly at him, Gilda backed away. “Do you think there is a chance for him and Emma?”

  “It doesn’t look good at the moment,” he said as he advanced a few more steps.

  “No, it doesn’t. But there is still a chance, don’t you think? They are very much in love.” This time she backed up slowly, as though to disguise her retreat.

  “Gilda, I don’t want to talk about Philip any longer. What I want to do is make love to my wife.”

  Gilda’s eyes widened. “But it’s still light outside, Justin,” she replied, clearly believing this was a problem. Her move away from him was suddenly brought to an abrupt halt when her back thumped against the wall.

  His next few steps brought him close enough to pin her against the wall with his body. “If the light bothers you, close your eyes,” he whispered, then grinned when he saw her squeeze her eyes shut. His hands pushed away her head covering, and his fingers slid into her silky hair.

  The feel of Justin’s hands in her hair eased Gilda’s hesitancy. She kept her eyes closed, content to passively let him kiss her, while she enjoyed the feel of his lips on her mouth and his hips pressing against her body. She relaxed even more as the pleasure of his nearness spread through her limbs.

  As Gilda became aroused, sleepily enjoying his attention wasn’t enough. Eager to see him, her eyes flew open. She pushed him just far enough away to be able to loosen his doublet and bare his chest so that she could run her hand through the dark hair she found there.

  At her touch, Justin became impatient. “Help me here,” he whispered.

  “What?” she replied, still absorbed in watching the way his dark chest hair curled around her pale fingers.

  “How do I get this off?” Justin asked. Unfamiliar with a nun’s habit, he was pulling at the neck of her garment.

  Gilda pushed him away again, and for a minute Justin thought she had remembered it was still light outside and wanted him to stop. As he was about to again suggest she close her eyes, he saw her performing some magic that caused her habit to fall away and pool around her feet. He had no trouble removing the light shift that remained, and she stood before him without a thread of clothing. The sight of her small, perfectly shaped body stopped him abruptly. He stared at her a long time, watching as her face turned a becoming shade of pink. When he regained his ability to move, he gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed in the next room.

  Flat on her back on the narrow bed, Gilda watched as Justin quickly rid himself of his clothing. The sight of his aroused body startled her, and she wondered how they would ever fit together. But before she could be afraid, he covered her body with his own, being careful not to let her bear his full weight. He held her gently and loosely until she got used to the feel of him, then he caressed her, arousing them both.

  Much later Gilda had her eyes closed again, and Justin saw that tears had wet her cheeks. “Did I hurt you very much?” Justin asked, wiping the moisture away with his fingers.

  “Only at first. I can’t believe how well we fit together, Justin. It was lovely.”

  “Yes, it was,” he whispered, kissing her damp eyes. “Now you are truly my wife.”

  Gilda smiled. “We have to thank Philip for leaving us alone,” she suggested.

  “I suppose you’re right,” he answered, but he didn’t want to think about Philip just yet. “It’s well past the supper hour. Would you like me to find you something to eat?”

  “Not just now. I like lying with you like this.” She felt his arousal against her leg and nudged him a bit with her knee. “Does that mean we can do it again?” she asked.

  Justin laughed. “It appears your appetite has grown to include more than food.”

  All through the evening and the night, Gilda and Justin continued to enjoy being close, free to do what they pleased. They made love, they fed each other what food they could find, and they slept in each other’s arms. At first light, Justin watched Gilda sleep and marveled at how wonderful it had been making her his wife. He grinned as he remembered how quickly she had overcome her shyness.

  When Justin finally pulled away to get up, Gilda opened her eyes. “Where are you going?” she asked. “It’s cold without you. Come back to bed.”

  Justin was ready to do just that, but he heard a noise from the outer room. “Someone is here,” he said.

  Expecting to find Leonardo or Philip, Justin pulled on his pants and opened the door. Instead he found a servant he recognized from the manor. The man seemed embarrassed at the sight of Justin’s bare chest, and he rushed through his message.

  “Pardon me, Lord Justin. Lady Emma wishes you and Sister Gilda to return to the manor at once. She says to bring Lord Philip with you.”

  “Philip isn’t here, but we will come,” Justin replied.

  “I saw Philip and another man on the way. They are camped not far from here. I’ll send them to you while you finish dressing,” the servant said, flushing red at his own words. Then he rushed from the cottage before Justin had a chance to question him.

  Gilda had heard everything and was already pulling on her habit when Justin returned to the bedroom. “Perhaps Lord Metcalf is dying,” she said. “Do you think we were too harsh with him yesterday?”

  “No, I don’t. Metcalf may be ill, but he’s been a tough warrior all his life. Hearing what we had to say, even if he didn’t like it, isn’t going to hasten his death. Emma said he’s had these spells before, and even Chetwynd mentioned his tiring suddenly.”

  By the time they had finished dressing, Leonardo and Philip had arrived at the cottage. Gilda was prepared for some teasing remarks from the two men, but they were both sobered by the news that everyone had been summoned to the manor.

  “What do you suppose it means that Emma wants me there?” Philip asked.

  “I have no idea,” Justin answered truthfully.

  Unsure what to expect, the small party hurried to the manor house. At the door the same servant who had summoned them invited them to the dining hall. Much to the surprise of the visitors, Lord Metcalf sat at the head table with Sister Freda on one side and Lady Emma on the other.

  “Don’t stand there with your mouths hanging open,” Metcalf said, his grin making it clear that he was enjoying their astonishment. “Come in, come in.”

  Justin was the first to recover. “I’m pleased to see you have regained your health, Lord Metcalf,” he said.

  “Thank you, Lord Justin. As you can see, rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” he replied with a chuckle.

  Philip had hung back behind the others, uncertain of his welcome. He was still un
sure when Metcalf caught sight of him and said, “Come up here, Philip. It is you I wish to speak with.” From Metcalf’s expression it was impossible to tell what his feelings for Philip might be.

  Emma stood up, making it clear she was offering her seat to Philip. Her eyes swam with tears at the sight of him, but she managed a shy smile. The young man stared at her and wondered if this might be his last view of her. Unable to tear his eyes away from her face, he stumbled toward the seat she indicated.

  “Sit!” Metcalf shouted in a commanding manner that forced Philip to turn from Emma and obey his order.

  Staring at the lord of the manor who used to be his friend, Philip said, “I am sorry you have been ill, Lord Metcalf.”

  “Are you, indeed?” Metcalf answered. “I thought you might be pleased to have me out of the way.”

  Shocked, Philip replied, “Not at all, my lord.”

  Metcalf waved his hand to dismiss the subject. Servants had entered the hall and Metcalf was silent, waiting for everyone to be served a thick soup and fresh bread. Ignoring the others at the table, Gilda and Justin were tearing into the food set in front of them, but Philip hardly touched his spoon to the bowl. The young man was remembering that he and Metcalf had once been close, but it had been a while since he had been welcomed at the lord’s table.

  Metcalf must have decided it was time to put Philip out of his misery and finally said, “You have made it clear in the past that you wished to marry my daughter. I didn’t take your suit seriously as I saw several problems with the match. I still see problems. However, I shouldn’t have dismissed your suit without talking to you about it. Are you still serious about seeking to wed Emma?”

  “Yes, sir.” Philip pushed the words through a throat constricted with emotion.

  “I wonder what kind of life you can offer her. Your brother is determined to marry Emma, and I understand he has already thrown you in prison once. I’m told that even now he has men looking for you, no doubt because he knows of your feelings for Emma.”

  Looking over to where Emma sat watching him, Philip seemed to have come to some conclusion. He straightened in his chair, his jaw hardened, and when he spoke it was in a clear, determined voice.

  “I know it would not be safe for me to stay in Mainz, my lord. But if you approved our marriage, Emma and I could go to court. I have trained to be a soldier, and some of that training was at your hands, so you know I am able.”

  Philip took a quick breath, then rushed on before he could be interrupted. “I have only stayed in Mainz this long hoping for your approval to wed Emma. King Louis is always in need of soldiers to protect his empire from the Saracens in the south and the tribes in the east and north. As you well know, he never has enough armies. I love Emma, and I will do everything in my power to provide her a good and happy life.”

  The room went quiet as heads turned toward Metcalf. “Count Cedric is a threat to your union,” the lord reminded Philip.

  “My brother has much power in Mainz and is one of the king’s officers. But I have done him no wrong, and he has no legitimate reason to pursue me. Lord Justin and Sister Gilda know I did not betray him with Lady Mariel. As you know, I have loved Emma long before Cedric knew of her existence. I swear to you that I will make her a much better husband than Cedric ever could.”

  Philip’s voice had gained power as he spoke, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath as the young man held Metcalf’s eyes. A long silence seemed to last forever before Metcalf replied.

  “I still have friends at court,” the lord of the manor said rather casually. “They could help you get started and make sure you are safe from your brother.”

  Prepared for rejection, Philip didn’t at first grasp Metcalf’s meaning. Then as he realized that Metcalf was offering to help him, he lost the power of speech.

  There was a soft murmur of voices in the hall as the others realized what Metcalf was suggesting. The lord of the manor ignored it and continued. “You and Emma must be married right away to avoid clashing with your brother when he comes back seeking a commitment from me. After that, the two of you can leave immediately for Aachen to approach King Louis.”

  In an anguished voice Emma broke the quiet that followed his words, making it clear her father had not confided his plans to her. “I can’t leave you now, Father. You are ill and need me,” she said, clearly torn between the man she loved and her father.

  “You have done your duty to me many times over, Emma,” her father replied with a loving smile. “But just so that you don’t worry, Sister Freda has agreed to stay with me for a while.”

  This announcement caused all eyes to seek Sister Freda, who sat inconspicuously beside Lord Metcalf until he mentioned her name. The only hint that she was aware of the curious stares was a slight pink tint that crept over her cheeks.

  This final surprising announcement from Lord Metcalf set the room into action. When Emma rushed to Philip’s side, he closed his eyes to shut out the rest of the world and embraced her. Gilda sprang from her seat and pushed herself into a place beside Freda.

  Once settled beside her friend, Gilda leaned close and whispered, “Is this what you wish, Freda? I thought you’d be eager to return to the convent.”

  “Yes, Gilda, I wish to stay. There is much Metcalf and I have in common, and I enjoy his company.”

  “He’s an ill-tempered man.”

  Freda laughed at Gilda’s puzzled expression. “We share a lot of memories of how things used to be in the days of Charlemagne. Staying here and managing his manor as Emma has been doing will be a fulfilling task.”

  “But he is very ill,” Gilda said. When Freda raised one eyebrow, Gilda’s mouth fell open. She looked over at Metcalf, who was watching Philip and Emma’s display of affection with a tolerant expression, then back at Freda. “Was his illness a ruse?” Gilda demanded to know.

  “Keep your voice down, Gilda. Let’s just say that like his death, his illness was exaggerated.”

  “You could have told me. I was worried that we were too harsh with him.”

  “You need not worry about that. Lord Metcalf was upset by how close he came to a terrible mistake by approving a match between Emma and Count Cedric, but he’s not on his deathbed. He’s still the honorable and courageous man I remembered.”

  Gilda, surprised by the softening she heard in her friend’s voice, leaned toward Freda again. “I know you always admired Lord Metcalf. Do you have feelings for the man?” she whispered.

  “We are too old for such things,” Freda replied, but she didn’t meet Gilda’s eyes. “What of you and Justin? Did you manage to spend some time alone?” she asked to change the subject.

  Instead of answering Gilda glanced over at her husband and smiled at the memory of the night they spent together. Justin must have felt her eyes on him, as he looked up from his conversation with Leonardo and returned her smile.

  “Yes, I can see that you did,” Freda said. “I’m glad things worked out for you and Justin. I know you’ll be off on the last leg of your journey soon, and I’ll miss traveling with you.”

  “Will you be safe here?” Gilda asked. “I think we must stay around until we see how Count Cedric will react to the news that Emma and Philip will be wed.”

  “There is no need. Metcalf spoke with the manor priest this morning. He has already sent Philip and Emma off to see him. After they are married, they will go into hiding until arrangements can be made for their journey to court and an interview with King Louis.”

  Turning around to look for the young couple, Gilda saw that they were nowhere in sight. “Lord Metcalf seems to have arranged everything, no doubt with help from you. I suspect you’ll suit each other.”

  A servant appeared in the hall, drawing attention to himself by hurrying over to speak urgently to Lord Metcalf. After listening for a few minutes, Metcalf looked over to Freda. “A sentry has reported that Count Cedric is on his way.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Upon hearing the news that
Count Cedric was on his way, Justin and Leonardo, as though reading each other’s thoughts, both moved quickly toward Metcalf. “What’s your plan?” Justin asked the lord of the manor.

  Seated at the table, Metcalf looked up at the two tall men in a defensive manner. “I’m not about to conceal my decision. I’ll tell the count that I gave permission to Philip to marry Emma. As long as Philip and Emma are safe, and I assume they have gone into hiding by now, there is no sense in trying to hide the fact.”

  “I admire your honesty, but the count is going to be extremely angry. I fear he may act rashly. As you know, he travels with some of his guards. Perhaps you should retire to your bed and pretend to be unwell. Someone else can give him the news,” Justin suggested, figuring Metcalf hadn’t minded using that ruse the previous day.

  The old warrior scowled, clearly insulted by his suggestion. “There is no need for that. My steward has already alerted everyone in my service. If Cedric tries to seek reprisal for my action, he will find that I am not alone.”

  Indeed, as Metcalf was speaking several men were silently entering the hall and settling at the tables. But the men were farm workers and servants, and Justin judged that although they might outnumber Cedric’s guards, they were hardly trained for confrontation.

  Before Justin could give his opinion, Metcalf continued. “Perhaps you and Sister Gilda should be on your way, Lord Justin. I know you have a mission to finish. There is no need for you to be involved further in this matter.”

  Listening to this exchange, Gilda was sure of how her husband would reply, and she smiled when she heard Justin’s words.

  “There is no hurry, Lord Metcalf. Gilda and I will finish our meal and say a last goodbye to Count Cedric.”

  Not fooled by the casual reply, Metcalf’s face softened, and he smiled. “Bring Lord Justin and Sister Gilda more food,” he instructed the servant nearest him.

  When Count Cedric, a purposeful expression on his face, strode into the hall, he was obviously surprised to see a robust Metcalf seated at the high table. “Greetings, Lord Metcalf. I am pleased to see you are feeling better,” the count commented.