The Nun's Betrothal

by Ida Curtis

  “Good morning, Cedric,” Metcalf replied. Bishop Gunthar wasn’t far behind, and Metcalf stood up and nodded to him. “Make room for the count and bishop,” he said to his chief steward, indicating a place at the head table.

  Several guards crowded together at the door behind the bishop. “I’m afraid we have a full house this morning. Your men will have to wait outside,” Metcalf added. “I will send out some refreshment.”

  Wrinkling his brow, Cedric looked around at the crowded tables. When he saw that even the space around the room was occupied, he nodded to a soldier who was apparently the leader of his men. As the guards withdrew, he asked, “Is this a special occasion for which your workers are gathered?”

  “It is,” Metcalf answered, without explaining further.

  This brief answer seemed to make Cedric wary, and his eyes traveled about the hall again. Seated at a table just below Metcalf’s, Justin and Gilda were busy eating. At the high table Sister Freda, seated beside Metcalf, kept her attention on Cedric, and he nodded to her. Finally, he asked, “Where is Lady Emma this morning?”

  Ignoring his question, Metcalf waited until both Cedric and the bishop had taken their places. Then he addressed Cedric. “I have an apology to make to you, Count Cedric. As you know I wished to have my daughter married and settled before I passed from this world. In my hurry to accomplish this, I proposed a match with you, but at the time I did not realize you had recently wed.”

  Cedric’s eyes narrowed. “It was a wise proposal, Lord Metcalf. Married to me, Emma will be a countess. You have already heard from Lord Justin that my marriage was a mistake and that I have requested an annulment that will soon be granted.”

  Metcalf nodded. “Yes, I have considered that. But in proposing the match between you and Emma I did not pay attention to my daughter’s wishes. You will remember that you sent your stepbrother to me to be trained as a warrior. He spent a great deal of time with us, a fact which you approved at the time.”

  Cedric interrupted Metcalf before he could say more. “I suspect where you are headed. I am aware that Philip has his own wish to marry Emma. But the boy has nothing to offer, and I must tell you that he is not a trustworthy person. I suspect that he made advances to Lady Mariel when he acted as my surrogate.”

  Unable to ignore this unfair allegation, Gilda stunned everyone by speaking out in a voice loud enough to echo through the hall. “That is not true. Philip befriended Lady Mariel, but that is all that happened between them.”

  Cedric’s red face gave evidence of the anger he felt at being interrupted by Gilda. Her words seemed to unleash his frustration, and he shouted at her. “You know not what you are talking about!”

  Turning back to Lord Metcalf, Cedric struggled to control his rage and speak in a normal voice. “Sister Gilda has been interfering in this matter since she arrived at Mainz, my lord. I call her ‘sister’ as she dresses as a nun, but in fact she is a married woman,” he said, clearly attempting to excuse the fact that he shouted at her. “I can’t understand why the king chose her to represent him in this matter.”

  Before Metcalf could react to this outburst, Lord Justin stood up and spoke in a reasonable tone of voice that contrasted with that of the count. “May I speak, Lord Metcalf?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Determined to ignore the personal attack on Gilda as well as his desire to throttle the count, Justin called upon his experience as a diplomat to remain calm. “Gilda knows more about the marriage of the count and Lady Mariel than anyone. At the Convent of Saint Ives, she interviewed Lady Mariel and heard directly from her what passed between her and Philip. The only reason they were together was because Philip was a surrogate in the count’s marriage to Lady Mariel. On the long journey from Bordeaux to Mainz, Philip befriended a frightened young woman. There is no evidence to support Count Cedric’s accusation that Philip made advances toward Mariel and much evidence that he was being kind.”

  Cedric shook his head violently. “When Mariel arrived at Mainz, she claimed to be married to Philip. I think that claim speaks for itself.” Then, before Justin or Gilda could speak again, he turned back to Metcalf. “In any case, I think you know I would be a better husband than Philip and that Emma would have a more secure life as my countess, Lord Metcalf.”

  Growing annoyed by the personal attacks on Philip and Gilda, Metcalf waved his hand in the air as though to banish further words on the subject. “For a time, I did believe that. But Philip is a well-trained soldier and has the ability to make a name for himself by serving the king.”

  “As a soldier! What kind of life is that?” Cedric burst out, then remembered who he was speaking to and attempted to revise his statement. “What I mean is, he is very young and just starting out.”

  No longer making an effort to hide his impatience, Metcalf said, “My daughter wishes to marry Philip and with my blessing has no doubt already accomplished that deed.”

  Leaping to his feet at this news and upsetting his seat in the process, the count glowered at his host. “I will find them, and believe me, Lady Emma will be a widow before the sun sets.”

  “Sit down!” Metcalf roared at Cedric so loudly that the manor farmers and servants rose to their feet.

  “Guards!” Cedric shouted, but his words were lost in the growing chatter in the hall.

  “The door is bolted, Count Cedric. I repeat, sit down!” Metcalf demanded, shouting loud enough to be heard over the noise in the hall.

  As the room quieted, Justin and Leonardo, surprised by Metcalf’s vigor, looked at each other with raised eyebrows. “He seems to have a plan,” Leonardo whispered.

  “You can’t keep me here,” Cedric replied, refusing to sit.

  “Not forever, but for a while,” Metcalf answered smugly.

  The force with which Metcalf had spoken to the count showed that he was prepared for trouble. Justin suspected he had ordered the doors locked to gain as much time as possible for Philip and Emma. Since neither Metcalf nor Cedric seemed in the mood to settle things peaceably, Justin feared what would happen when the door was unbolted.

  Glancing at the bishop and remembering how he had attempted to keep Cedric calm the day before, Justin wondered if perhaps there was a way to settle the matter without either party resorting to violence. Freda’s nephew, Brother Arnulf, had told Justin that the bishop was interested in having the rich farmland of Metcalf’s manor come under the control of Mainz, where he and Cedric shared power and ruled pretty much as they wished. While Cedric and Metcalf were still shouting and accusing each other of bad faith, Justin moved to where he could speak to Bishop Gunthar.

  Leaning close to his ear in order to be heard, Justin said, “A rift between Lord Metcalf and the count may persuade Metcalf to seek alliance with other protectors. I appeal to you as religious leader of Mainz to persuade Cedric that it is best for all parties to make peace with his brother Philip and accept his marriage to Lady Emma.”

  Gunthar was watching Cedric and Metcalf as they continued their argument. “If I persuade Cedric to accept the marriage of his stepbrother and Lady Emma, how can I be sure Metcalf will still look to Mainz for an alliance? Metcalf hardly seems a reasonable man, and Philip has no cause to love his brother.”

  Justin knew a lot depended on his ability to win Gunthar over. “Philip and Emma are headed for court while Sister Freda is staying on to help Lord Metcalf manage his estate. She is a peace-loving woman, and I know she will use her influence to encourage a settlement between Metcalf and Cedric. They are close neighbors, and violence between them will hurt both parties. Mainz is Philip’s home, and his marriage will forge closer ties between Mainz and Metcalf’s manor. Sister Freda will see that this happens. It would be best if you urged Cedric to celebrate the marriage.”

  Gunthar looked at Sister Freda with distaste, but Justin’s reasoning, as well as the number of men gathered to support Metcalf, must have made an impression as he nodded curtly, then rose to his feet. The bishop pounded his heavy staff o
n the floor to call for quiet. No one paid him any attention, and the chatter in the hall continued until Justin shouted out, “The bishop has something to say! Let him be heard.”

  When it was suddenly quiet and all eyes had turned to him, the bishop seemed taken aback. Justin nodded to encourage Gunthar, who frowned, then began to speak. “Lord Metcalf has made his decision and tells us that Lady Emma and Philip are already married. Philip is a Lord of Mainz and by his marriage forges closer ties between Mainz and this manor. Although Count Cedric is disappointed for himself, I’m sure he will want to celebrate the marriage of his brother.”

  As Gunthar parroted his words, Justin kept a serious face. He watched Cedric and hoped the count, much as he might dislike the idea, would be smart enough to understand why it would be best to accept the marriage. His goal had always been to acquire access to the manor’s rich farmland, and marriage had been a means to reach this goal. But the count didn’t seem willing to respond to the bishop’s urging.

  The hall was quiet as everyone anticipated Cedric’s next outburst. Gilda knew the result Justin hoped for, and she wanted to urge Cedric to accept his brother’s marriage. But since he resented her part in the proceedings, she knew her appeal would only make things worse. Instead she addressed Lord Metcalf, the man she judged to be the most likely to be moved.

  “My lord, as a father you have made the decision you think best for Lady Emma, but you had previously made promises to Count Cedric.”

  Metcalf scowled at her. “I have apologized for my part in those negotiations.”

  “Yes, you have. As a sign of your good faith, you could now promise to cooperate with the count and the Bishop of Mainz in the future. As close neighbors it will benefit you both to live in harmony.”

  There was another silence in the hall as Metcalf seemed to consider Gilda’s proposal. Clearly, he had been ready for a battle and perhaps even looked forward to it. Gilda held her breath, hoping the old warrior would forego his urge for one last battle. As she watched, she saw something she was sure no one else would notice. Sister Freda give Metcalf’s elbow a discreet nudge.

  When Metcalf spoke, his words were strong, and if he had any regrets about saying them, they were well under control. “I will apologize to you once again, Count Cedric. I admit I made a mistake.” The words must have been difficult to say, as he lifted his goblet and took a long drink. “Now I propose we drink to stronger ties between my manor and Mainz.”

  Without saying a word, Count Cedric raised his goblet. Neither Metcalf nor Cedric was overjoyed by the compromise, and the mood in the hall was more an easing of tension than a celebration. Still, confrontation had been avoided.

  It wasn’t long before Count Cedric and Bishop Gunthar said polite, if stilted, farewells. Once they had left the hall, the mood became joyous and several toasts were proposed to the absent newlywed couple. When the peasants left to return to their fields, Metcalf finally spoke directly to Justin and Gilda.

  “Charlemagne granted this manor to me. My men and I could have defended it,” he said. “But I have to say I admired the way you handled the situation, Lord Justin. The way you managed Bishop Gunthar was truly inspiring.”

  “Thank you, Lord Metcalf. But we prefer to think of ourselves as nudging parties toward a compromise,” Justin replied.

  “You do it well and seem to have found the perfect helpmate,” Metcalf said, glancing toward Gilda and thus acknowledging her contribution. “Sister Freda tells me that you are wed.”

  Gilda came to stand close to Justin. Hidden by the folds of her skirt, he took her hand. “Our marriage is still new to us,” Justin explained.

  “Is that why Gilda continues to wear her habit? Perhaps you’d like to have some of Lady Emma’s clothes. I insisted she have some new garments made for her wedding to the count.” He paused. “Every time I think of the mistake I was so close to making, I have to shudder. Emma rejected those gowns, and I’m sure she left them here.”

  Sister Freda spoke up. “I can show you the gowns, and you can make up your mind if you wish to take any of them for your journey to Reims.”

  Looking down at Gilda, Justin remembered how her habit had mystified him the day before, and then Gilda had undone some fastening and it pooled around her feet. She must have known what he was thinking about, as her face turned the becoming shade of pink that he liked so much. “I rather like the habit,” he whispered softly so that only Gilda could hear.

  She smiled at him. “But it might be interesting to try something different,” she whispered back.

  Thinking of the many different things he wished to try with Gilda, Justin’s voice was hoarse with emotion when he spoke to Freda. “I’d like to look at the gowns with Gilda.” Realizing this was an unusual request, he added, “I wish to help her decide if they are suitable for her introduction at court.”

  There was friendly laughter in the hall, and Justin suspected that at least some of it was directed at the two of them as they followed Freda to Emma’s room.

  Once the door was closed behind them, Freda turned to the couple. “I wished to say a few words to you in private before you leave for Reims. When the king chose to pair you for the assignment of investigating Count Cedric’s request for an annulment, I’m sure he had no idea how well you would work together. You complemented each other perfectly as you defused the situation out there. I imagine you’ll go on to serve the king and do great things together.”

  Tears flowed down Gilda’s cheeks as she listened to her friend’s words. “I’m going to miss you so much, Freda,” she whispered.

  Freda seemed a little startled at Gilda’s display of emotion and blinked her eyes several times as she struggled to hold back her own tears. Unable to speak, she patted Gilda’s shoulder, then turned and rushed from the room.

  As she wiped her tears, Gilda asked, “Do you think she’ll be all right here?”

  “I do. Sister Freda is a strong woman who knows her own mind, not unlike you, Sister Gilda. Will you miss being a nun?” he asked, a little afraid to hear her answer.

  “I’ll miss the sisters and Abbess Ermguerrd, but I have discovered that life with you is what I desire, Justin. There is so much for us to do together. I think we have a responsibility to make sure that Philip and Emma are safe. Perhaps I can ask Chetwynd to help Philip form his own army. We should also keep an eye on Freda and Metcalf to see that they hold their own with Count Cedric. And maybe the king will give us more assignments.”

  Smiling from ear to ear, Justin listened to his wife talk excitedly about their future. “Don’t forget having babies so that you’ll have children of your own to teach.”

  “Oh, yes, we can’t forget that.”

  “Since Emma’s discarded gowns await your attention, perhaps you’d like to remove your habit?”

  They could hear the joyful sounds of celebration from the great hall. “Is the door bolted?” Gilda asked.

  Justin moved quickly to push the bolt in place, then he turned back to watch Gilda’s habit once again pool around her feet. “I love the way that happens. In the future you can wear the fanciest gowns in the empire, but I’ll always have fond memories of your plain black habit.”

  Gilda rushed into his arms. “Perhaps we could start right away on making those babies,” she suggested.

  The only bed in the room was piled high with the gowns Emma had left behind. Keeping one arm around Gilda, he leaned down and swept them onto the floor. “You have the best ideas.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ida Curtis was born in 1935 in New Haven, Connecticut. She grew up and went to school in Newington, Connecticut, where at age eighteen she contracted polio. After two years of rehabilitation, she spent two years at St. Joseph’s College in West Hartford before marrying her husband, Jared. Following his academic career, they lived in various places, including four years at Indiana University, where Ida finished her BA degree in history. In 2002, after thirty years in Vancouver, British Columbia, they returned to the US t
o live in Seattle, Washington. Ida has been writing fiction and memoir since she retired in 1996. A member of Pacific Northwest Writers Association, she won first prize for historical fiction at PNWA’s annual convention in 2009. Her novel, Song of Isabel, grew out of that experience; The Nun’s Betrothal was developed from characters appearing in Song of Isabel. She published My Polio Memoir: 1953–2016 with Lulu.com in 2016.

  Author photo © Emily R. Ashmore

  SELECTED TITLES FROM SHE WRITES PRESS

  She Writes Press is an independent publishing company founded to serve women writers everywhere. Visit us at www.shewritespress.com.

  Song of Isabel by Ida Curtis. $16.95, 978-1631523717. In ninth-century France, a handsome officer in the King’s army rescues preteen Isabel from an assault by a passing warrior. When the officer returns to her father’s estate several years later, sparks fly and emotions tangle.

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