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Once Upon A Time (Historical Romance)

Page 2

by Constance O'Banyon


  There was no time for him to consider because when the knights realized what the queen intended, they rushed forward to stop him. With profound sadness, the chancellor nodded and pushed hard against the handle of his sword.

  Queen Phelisiana gasped in pain, and almost immediately the front of her white gown stained a bright scarlet. She smiled softly at Lord Kelvin and crumpled to the floor to lie dead at his feet.

  "Damn your eyes!" Lord Exeter cried, swinging his sword in a wide arc and slashing the palatine's throat with a single blow.

  Lord Kelvin sank slowly to the floor to die in a pool of his own blood beside the queen he had served so well.

  "His Majesty wanted Queen Phelisiana alive. He will surely punish us for her death," one of the knights muttered, his eyes darting from the dead queen to Lord Exeter.

  "King Henry will quickly forgive us if we find Princess Jilliana," Lord Exeter answered. "Search the castle. Question everyone. Find someone who will value their life enough to tell me what I want to know."

  Sir Humphrey and Sir James rode into the night and long into the next day, changing horses often along the way.

  Soon the little princess would be under the protection of Queen Eleanor herself, to be hidden from the destructive hand of King Henry, and that of his adversary, Louis of France.

  1

  The church bells of Our Lady of Sorrow pealed loudly, reverberating across the lush green valley and into the peaceful Welsh village.

  A frantic young girl hurried down the narrow lane, pulling her wimple low over her head to protect herself against the softly falling rain.

  Even so, her white gown was hopelessly soiled and she paused in a futile attempt to brush away the mud. With a resigned sigh, she continued down the lane toward the convent.

  There was apprehension reflected in the girl's blue eyes and she felt contrition within her heart. Once again she had missed morning prayers and Mother Prioress would surely scold her. It was the second time this month that she had been remiss in her duty.

  Straining on her tiptoes to reach the latch, she finally succeeded in pushing open the heavy wooden gate and slipped inside, looking right and left to see if anyone was about. If she could sneak in the back door and make her way to her cell, perhaps she would not be missed.

  But she held little hope that her tardiness would be undetected since Mother Prioress never failed to notice what went on around her.

  By now the rain had stopped and a weak sun had broken through the low clouds, casting the garden in an eerie yellow light. As she entered the herb garden, the girl brightened when she saw that the gardener, Humphrey, was watching her progress with a bright smile.

  She felt closer to Humphrey than to anyone at the convent. He always had time to stop whatever he was doing and talk to her. And when she was troubled, she sought him out, knowing he would listen patiently and then give her the benefit of his knowledge.

  As he watched her approach, Sir Humphrey was dazzled. He was reminded of his youth, another time, another place, and another woman.

  The love he had felt for Queen Phelisiana had transcended the physical to become complete dedication. The girl known only as Jilly to those at the convent was now the unknowing recipient of his selfless devotion.

  It had been fourteen years since that stormy night when he and Sir James had taken Princess Jilliana to Our Lady of Sorrow convent with its high protective walls. It had not been difficult for him to convince Mother Prioress that he would be an excellent gardener for the abbey, so he had been able to keep his promise to Queen Phelisiana that he would watch over the princess.

  Jilly's resemblance to the dead queen was uncanny. She had the same exquisite heart-shaped face. Each feature was perfectly formed, as if carved by a master sculptor. From her full mouth to her arched brows, she was breathtaking. Long lashes swept across sapphire blue eyes. Her raven-colored hair was the only characteristic she had inherited from her father.

  "You'd best hurry, Mistress Jilly," Sir Humphrey said, pulling his thoughts back to the present. "Mother Magdalene was just inquiring after you."

  Jilly turned sorrowful eyes on Humphrey. He was a great bear of a man, with a wide chest and powerful arms. His hair was red and his face covered with freckles. He had soft gray eyes that always seemed to be dancing with mirth, especially when he spoke to her.

  Sometimes she thought he was misplaced as a gardener, because his speech was much too cultured and he was obviously an educated man. She often fantasized that he was a great noble hiding from some cruel fate, who had found his sanctuary at the convent.

  "I will surely be punished this time." She held out a crumpled bouquet. "I was gathering wild flowers on the cliff and forgot the time. They're for Sister Cecilia. She has been very ill, and I thought they might cheer her."

  "You need have no fear of Mother Magdalene," Humphrey said encouragingly. "Even when she rebukes you, she has only your interest at heart."

  Jilliana sighed. "Tis not that I am afraid of her. It's more that I want so to please her and gain her respect. The pity is that I have always been a disappointment to her. I know that she feels I am frivolous and negligent in my duties to God's work. I never intend to be wicked. I just cannot seem to help myself."

  Sir Humphrey smiled and shook his head at Jilly's innocence. She had no notion what evil was, and for that he was grateful. "You wicked, Mistress Jilly? I think not. I have oft times observed your kindness to others and seen you labor long at your appointed tasks without complaint. Do not chastise yourself so severely."

  Jilly's lower lip trembled. "But there must be something wrong with me." Her eyes were clear as she looked into his. "I asked Mother Prioress again only yesterday if I might take the veil, and once again she informed me that I am not meant for the Church. Humphrey, do you think I am too undisciplined to become a nun?"

  "Not at all, Mistress Jilly. But Mother Prioress has great insight, and she speaks true. You are not meant for the Church."

  "What will I do if I cannot take the veil?"

  "There are those who will see to your future when the time is right," Sir Humphrey said kindly. "You must have faith and believe that."

  "Faith is the only thing I do have." Jilly looked at the massive carved doors that led to the chapel. She could hear the clear tones of voices raised in song. There was no need for her to hurry now—it was too late.

  "Humphrey, why do you suppose I am treated differently from the other students?"

  He reached down and grasped a weed, pulling it free of the herb bed.

  "In what way?"

  "The other girls do not study all the subjects that I do. And Mother Magdalene does not reprimand them as severely as she does me when they fail to use courtly etiquette or proper grammar. Why do you think that is?"

  "Perhaps you should ask her. As for now, consider how fortunate you are that Father Finn comes twice weekly to instruct you. Have you not told me how you love to read? I'd advise you to accept the privilege without question."

  Jilly wrinkled her nose. "Perhaps you are right, Humphrey, but it makes me angry when the other girls taunt me. They think my studies are a penance for my transgressions, when indeed they are a blessing to me."

  Sir Humphrey turned back to his work and they remained a few moments in companionable silence. Finally, he spoke: "Mistress Jilly, why do you suppose you have been given such a fine education?"

  She thought for a moment before answering. "I have lain awake many nights wondering that myself. I believe that Mother Prioress is preparing me to work in some fine household so I can provide for myself." Her expression was wistful. "I cannot remain here forever. You may not realize this, but I am quite old for an unmarried maiden."

  Sir Humphrey's lips twitched into an almost smile. "So you think you have unraveled the mystery, do you? You believe that you are being prepared for the life of a servant?"

  "What else am I to believe?" She looked pensive and then troubled. "I am oft puzzled by many things, Humphrey. For instan
ce, who are my mother and father, and why don't I live with them, or at least know their names? I once asked Mother Prioress who I was, but all she would tell me is that we are all children of God and that should be enough for me."

  He ached to tell her the truth, but he knew the time was not now. "Put your worries aside, Mistress Jilly. In time you will come to know God's plan for you."

  She gave a deep sigh of disappointment. He did not understand either. "I must be going now. I would not want Mother Prioress to see the mud stains on my gown."

  Sir Humphrey braced his back against the trunk of a tree. "Yes, go along and see to your gown. And, Mistress Jilly, all will be well with you. This I promise."

  She smiled at him gratefully. "I do not know what I would have done all these years if you had not been my friend, Humphrey."

  He gave her a courtly bow. "I always stand ready to serve you."

  She giggled at his gallantry. "It is I who will be served up as an example to the others after today." She clutched the now wilted flowers tighter in her hand. "I fear I shall never learn obedience."

  Sir Humphrey watched her hurry away. So, she had not yet been told that tomorrow he would be taking her away from the convent. No doubt she would be frightened to leave the only home she'd ever known, but at least he could remain at her side until she reached her destination.

  Jilly stood before Mother Prioress, her hands folded demurely, her head lowered in contrition.

  "I had hoped you would outgrow that rebellious spirit that churns within you, Jilly," she sighed, "but it seems that my hopes are in vain. I have strived to curb your strong will and teach you patience and piety so you can lead a life of subservience, but in this I have also failed."

  "I am sorry," Jilly said, wincing as she raised her eyes and saw the unforgiving expression on Mother Magdalene's stern face.

  The prioress was small in stature and always spoke in a soft voice, but she could be formidable all the same. It was difficult to tell her exact age, but Jilly thought she must be very old, for her face was wrinkled and pale beneath her stark white wimple.

  "Mother Magdalene, I know that I am a disappointment to you," Jilly said in a rush, "but I will try to do better in the future—truly I shall. You will find no more cause to chastise me."

  The prioress held her hand out to silence the torrent of words.

  "Tomorrow, Jilly, you will pass from my keeping." Suddenly her voice was soft, her eyes gentle. "And I pray that God will watch over you and teach you obedience as I was never able to do."

  Jilly gasped. With tears in her eyes, she fell to her knees and grasped Mother Magdalene's skirt. "I entreat you, allow me to remain at Our Lady of Sorrow. I promise I shall strive every day to be obedient. I shall pray all morning and do good deeds all day. I shan't ever be late for vespers and I shall strive to be humble in all things."

  Mother Prioress's expression hardened. "Stand up, girl," she ordered. "Do not grovel at my feet."

  Jilly stood, her pride coming to her aid. "Can you tell me why you are sending me away?"

  Mother Magdalene moved behind her desk to sit stiffly in her straight-backed chair, arching her slender hands as if in prayer.

  "It is not I who am sending you away, child. I thought you understood that." She picked up a parchment and silently read it before shoving it into the folds of her gown. "I have orders that you are to be taken to Salisbury, in England. You will pack your belongings and be ready to leave at dawn on the morrow. Humphrey will accompany you on your journey."

  Jilly was frightened and could feel her heart beating in her throat. "Why must I leave Wales? I am not English."

  "Jilly," the prioress said patiently, "I know not who guided you to me fourteen years ago, but whoever they are, they wield great power. For some reason, I have even been required to make yearly reports to the pope in Rome concerning your health, your spiritual condition, and the progress in your studies."

  Jilly's mouth rounded in surprise. "His Holiness is interested in me?"

  "Perhaps I should not have told you that, so please forget I said it."

  Jilly's mind was filled with questions, and she looked at the prioress pleadingly.

  "I know not what or who you are, Jilly, and I cannot tell you more than I already have. Whoever your benefactor may be, I hope that you will comport yourself with dignity and act in a manner that will reflect well on my teachings."

  Jilly again dropped to her knees as fear of the unknown overwhelmed her. "Will you bless me, Mother Magdalene?"

  The prioress stood and gently laid her hand on the bowed head. "I give you my blessing, child, but only God can set your feet upon the right path and make you aware of your weaknesses. Pray that with his guidance you will become more humble in your actions."

  When Jilly stood, she looked into Mother Magdalene's eyes, hoping to see some sign of affection or some indication that the prioress would be sad to see her leave—she saw none.

  Mother Prioress led Jilly to the door. "Make yourself ready. Humphrey will take you to your destination. Be at the front gate before sunrise in the morning so you do not keep him waiting. Good-bye, my daughter."

  There seemed nothing else to say. Jilly moved down the hall, her footsteps slow. Who was this mysterious benefactor that Mother Prioress had mentioned? Strange no one had ever told her before that someone was interested in her existence. She felt sudden excitement. Perhaps she would learn of her past when she reached England. Then she began trembling. What if she did not like what she discovered?

  Jilly went directly to her cell, where she found a leather satchel lying on the bed. Sadly she packed her meager belongings. Then she dropped to her knees beside her small cot, raising her face in prayer. Tomorrow her life would be forever changed. And she was terrified.

  The next morning when Jilly joined Humphrey at the front gate, the sky was gray and overcast, and it suited her mood. Sir Humphrey, however, was cheerful as he helped her mount a horse.

  Jilly glanced back down the path toward the convent, hoping Mother Magdalene would come to say good-bye, or at least one of the sisters would wish her well. Of course, she reasoned when no one came, everyone would be at their morning prayers now and could not be disturbed.

  She lowered her head so Humphrey could not see the hurt she felt inside. "I am ready," she said at last, turning her mount away from the convent and following Humphrey toward the distant hills.

  They had been traveling for two weeks when at last they reached a small hamlet on the banks of the Avon River. Jilly raised her eyes to the towering castle just beyond the village.

  "Is that to be our destination?" she asked.

  "It is, Mistress Jilly."

  "The castle seems so uninviting and somehow sinister," she said, determined not to like anything about England.

  "You will find only a welcome there," he assured her.

  "Will I meet the person who has been my patron?"

  "As to that," Sir Humphrey replied, "you must wait and see."

  He nudged his mount forward, and she followed. They passed almost unnoticed through the village on their way to Salisbury Castle, then rode across the wooden bridge that spanned the moat, where they halted before a guard.

  "Who wishes to pass beyond?" the sentinel asked.

  "Only a young maid sent to serve the castle," Sir Humphrey replied.

  "I was told to expect a young lass, but no one said anything about a man. Who might you be?"

  "I am merely her escort. I shall not be staying at the castle."

  The guard looked at Jilly's plain attire and nodded. "She may pass within, but you may not."

  Jilly opened her mouth to protest when Sir Humphrey smiled at her. "Go inside and you'll find a friend."

  "But... I do not want you to leave," she said, tears filling her eyes.

  Sir Humphrey looked at her, his heart wrenching because they must part. "I cannot remain, Mistress Jilly, but we will meet again. This I promise."

  The guard motioned Sir Humphrey a
way, and at the same time the inner gate was opened to admit Jilly. She watched Humphrey until the gate closed behind her, blocking her view of him. She felt deserted and alone.

  The guard, a thickset man with an unsmiling face, told her to dismount and then directed her to the rear of the castle and admonished her to use the servants' entrance.

  How forlorn she felt as she tightly gripped the handle of her satchel and unhappily made her way down a worn path. When she reached the kitchen, she was greeted by a woman who seemed to have been expecting her.

  "Be your name Jilly?"

  "Yes, mistress."

  "I am Mrs. Fillburne, the housekeeper. Please follow me.

  "Am I to work in the kitchen?" Jilly asked, looking about at the beehive of activity, where copper pots bubbled on the open hearth and the smell of baking bread filled the air.

  There was a startled look on Mrs. Fillburne's face. "I think not."

  Jilly followed the woman through so many rooms that she soon lost count. She had never seen anything as magnificent as the castle, with its high-domed ceilings and rich furnishings. At last she was led to a small sitting room.

  "Please wait here. My mistress will soon attend you," the housekeeper instructed her before departing.

  The sun had set, and flickering rings of light from several candles reflected on the stonewalls. Jilly waited in anticipation.

  She looked about, comparing the furnishings of the room to the stark trappings of the convent. Age-old tapestries covered the stonewalls, and richly colored rugs were scattered on the stone floor. On closer inspection, Jilly decided there was something feminine about the room. She had never considered that her benefactor might not be a man.

  At that moment, the door opened and she turned to see a woman of such regal bearing that Jilly knew she was someone of import. Her blue silk gown swept out about her and her white headdress was adorned by a crown of gold.

 

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