The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past Book 4)
Page 5
“Katie, if the good Lord punished every man who lay with a woman out of wedlock, there’d be no one left to worship Him except the bastards they sired.”
“Do women like Agnes have no recourse?” Kate inquired. She’d liked Agnes and grieved for her. She seemed to be the only one to take Agnes’s senseless death to heart.
“Some lords find husbands for the women their sons disgrace, but Father was not kindly disposed toward the poor girl.”
“Why? What had she done?”
Geoffrey shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Katie looked at his closed expression. He knew, but he didn’t want to tell her. Suddenly, she had no wish to find out. The business of men was way beyond her understanding, but it was often cruel, unforgiving, and frightening.
“Do as Mother bids, Katie,” Geoffrey said. “Before Father changes his mind.”
“Why? What do you know?” A frisson of fear ran down Kate’s spine.
“Katie, a daughter is only good for one thing, and that’s to marry her off to form an alliance or settle a debt. You’re fifteen, ripe for marrying. If you don’t go to the priory, Father will have you wed as soon as he finds a suitable match. He’s got his sights set on one of the Neville cousins, to strengthen our connection to the Earl of Warwick. The marriage would bring him one step closer to the Duke of York, who has his eye on the throne.”
“What are you talking about?” Kate demanded. “How would marrying a Neville cousin bring father closer to the throne when King Henry is our sovereign?”
Geoffrey patted her cheek in a paternal matter. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. It’s way too complicated for you to understand. Just don’t pass up your chance at freedom.”
“Freedom? You think becoming a nun is a path to freedom?” Kate gaped at her brother. “Is that why you want to become a priest?”
Geoffrey looked momentarily shocked, but didn’t bother to ask how she knew of his conversation with their father. “It is a freedom of sorts, Kate. Now, off with you. I’d like a few moments alone. I was supposed to practice swordplay with Robert, but I think we might have to wait until the weather improves.”
Geoffrey and Robert never missed a day of practice. Sometimes Martin joined them as well, but Martin preferred to train with some of his own friends. They spent hours at swordplay, fighting until sweat ran into their eyes and their faces were flushed with exertion. There was a quintain set up in the yard, and they used that as well, taking turns jousting. For men in their position, war craft and politicking were some of the most important skills they could possess, and although her brothers hadn’t had much opportunity to scheme and plot as of yet, they knew how to fight.
Kate returned to the house, kicked off her wet shoes, and climbed up to the solar where she curled up in the window seat. From her vantage point she could see the stable yard, the fields, and the woods beyond. This was her world, the only one she’d ever known. If she listened to her mother and Geoffrey, she would never see anything beyond the walls of a convent. But how could she ignore the advice of the two people she trusted most in the world? How could she dismiss the worry in their eyes when they spoke of her future? Gerard Dancy was not a cruel man—at least he’d never been cruel to her—but his dealings with Agnes had showed Kate that her father could be ruthless. She’d never felt the back of his hand or displeased him enough for him to use sharp words to her, being an obedient and respectful daughter, but Geoffrey had struck a chord when he spoke of her father’s goals. Gerard Dancy was an ambitious man, and he’d use everything at his disposal to further his own ends. Already he was negotiating a marriage for Martin, looking for a bride among the highest-ranking Yorkist kin. Geoffrey would be next, and he was prepared to do his bit to further the family’s influence despite his own wishes. Only Robert had a few more years of freedom before him. His future would not be decided until his older brothers were advantageously wed.
Kate hugged her legs and rested her head on her knees as silent tears slid down her cheeks. She was no longer a little girl; she had to start thinking like a woman. Perhaps going to the priory was the lesser of two evils. Kate wiped away her tears and stared blindly out the window. Her decision was made.
Chapter 9
Kate hurried along the empty cloister toward the abbess’s office. Two more weeks and her future at the priory would be secure. Once she took her vows, she would belong to God, and not even her father would have a say over her life any longer.
She approached the arched doorway of the office, knocked softly, and was invited to enter. The abbess sat behind her desk, a folded sheet of paper with a broken seal lying before her. She was in her fifties, and had been at the priory since she was a girl of thirteen. The abbess was possessed of a patient, kind nature perfectly suited to her role as ‘mother’ to the women in her charge, and never behaved in a manner that was intimidating or unapproachable. She was sensitive to the needs of the postulates as well as the nuns, and always took the time to comfort and reassure when the situation called for it. This morning, the abbess looked tired and pale, and her mouth pursed into a thin line of displeasure.
“Good morning, Mother. You wished to see me?” Kate asked. The abbess normally greeted everyone with a serene smile and a kind word, but there was no smile today.
“Sit down, Catherine.”
The seed of anxiety blossomed in Kate’s belly as she perched on the edge of a chair. This wasn’t a routine summons to discuss the vow-taking. This was something entirely different.
“Have I done something wrong?” Kate asked, her voice quivering with uncertainty. Why else would the abbess wish to see her, if not to punish her for some unknown transgression?
“No, you haven’t done anything wrong, my child, which is not to say that a wrong hasn’t been done to you,” the abbess replied sadly.
“Whatever do you mean, Mother?”
“Catherine, a messenger arrived with a letter from your lord father last night. I didn’t summon you right away because I needed time to think. I’ve pondered the situation all night, but I couldn’t arrive at any solution that wouldn’t hinge on deceit or disobedience. Your father wishes you to return home immediately.”
“Why?” Kate cried. “I’m about to take my vows.”
The abbess shook her head. Kate saw that she was genuinely distressed, and devastated by her own helplessness. Tears of sorrow welled in her eyes as she faced Kate across her massive desk.
“Catherine, I’m very sorry to tell you, but your brothers fell at the Battle of Towton on Palm Sunday. Martin and Robert died on the field. Geoffrey was grievously wounded and died of his injuries two days later. The forces of Lancaster were routed and the Duke of York is now confirmed as King Edward IV. I know you have Yorkist kin, and this would be very welcome news for you indeed, if not for the loss your family suffered on that battlefield. They say it was the bloodiest battle in Britain’s history,” the abbess added. “Thousands of men slaughtered on both sides. May God rest their souls.” She crossed herself and Kate followed suit.
“God rest their souls,” Kate muttered, reeling from the news. Her brothers were all gone, even Geoffrey. Kind, funny, ginger-haired Geoffrey who’d always teased her about her freckles and was the only one of her brothers to play a game with her or escort her when she rode her pony as a child. And Robert, who had hardly been more than a child himself. Oh, he’d fancied himself a grown man, but he had still been so naïve, and so foolish. She’d never felt kindly disposed toward Martin, even before Agnes’s death, but his death was still a shock, and a loss. He’d been only twenty.
“Why does my father want me to come home?” Kate asked.
The abbess shook her head, but didn’t elaborate. Lord Dancy wouldn’t have explained his reasons to her. He’d sent a summons, and she was meant to obey, but Kate understood her father’s motives only too well. Now that a Yorkist king sat on the throne, new alliances would need to be forged and the fastest way to an advantageous alliance was through a
mutually beneficial union. With her brothers gone, Kate was the only bargaining tool her father had left. Kate suspected that the abbess had considered telling her father that Kate had already taken her vows and was a full-fledged nun, but her conscience wouldn’t permit her to lie, not even to shield Kate from what was to come.
“Catherine, your lady mother has been taken ill upon learning the news. She’s been asking for you.”
A terrible sob tore from Kate’s chest. She was feeling sorry for herself and mourning her own future when her mother had just lost three of her beloved boys and needed the comfort of her only daughter. How selfish she was, how self-centered. No wonder God had seen fit to send her home before she had a chance to take her vows. She didn’t deserve his love or his mercy.
“Catherine, I know you are devastated, and you have every reason to be, but there are many ways to serve God. You can serve him by helping your family during this difficult time. You must nurse your mother back to health and honor your father’s wishes.”
“Mother, please,” Kate begged. “Ask my father to promise that I may return to the priory once my mother is recovered.”
“I have no right to ask that of him, my child. Had you already taken your vows, I would have recourse, but you are still a novice, free to leave or be expelled. You are not yet bound to God, and I couldn’t possibly tell your sire otherwise.”
Kate steeled herself as sharp claws of disappointment tore at her soul. It wasn’t until that moment that she understood how deeply committed she had been to taking the veil—not because she felt she had a vocation, but because at the priory she felt safe and in control of her own destiny. She was never coming back; she knew that. She would become her father’s pawn the moment she stepped outside the walls of the priory. She’d be a means to an end, especially now that her brothers could no longer be instruments of Lord Dancy’s ambition.
The abbess confirmed Kate’s suspicions with her next words. “Catherine, the situation will be easier to bear if you don’t fight it. Don’t give your father reason to be cruel to you. Obey him in all things, and you will please the Lord.”
“Thank you, Mother. I will do my duty by my family,” Kate replied. “When must I go?”
“I sent the messenger to the village to find a bed for the night. He will come for you shortly. God keep you, child.”
Kate closed the door behind her as she left the office. She’d intended to join the sisters for a final prayer, but instead retreated to her cell. She had nothing to pack since she’d renounced all her worldly goods when she arrived at the priory. The gown she’d worn had been given away, so she would have to travel in her habit, veil, and gray woolen cloak. Her only possession was the rosary her mother had given her the day she left home. Kate had always admired her mother’s jet prayer beads, but Anne had given Kate a rosary made of amber. The polished stones were luminous and smooth, each bead unique in color and appearance.
“I got this for you in Newcastle,” her mother had said. “I was going to get you a rosary like mine, but when I saw this one, it reminded me of you. The beads are sunny and beautiful, just like you are, and I want this rosary to bring you hope and light, even on the darkest of days. Say you like it,” Anne had cajoled.
“It’s beautiful, Mother. I will cherish it always.”
“Think of me from time to time, Katie, and know that sending you away is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”
Kate had been devastated by their parting. The priory allowed no visitors, so mother and daughter would never see each other again unless something went dreadfully wrong.
“I will think of you every day, and pray for your well-being,” Kate had promised. “I will pray for father and the boys as well.”
She had prayed for them every night. And now her brothers were dead, her mother was heartbroken and ill, and her father had lost the heirs to his title and lands. The time of reckoning was upon the Dancy family.
Chapter 10
Kate walked toward the gate. She hadn’t told any of the sisters she was leaving; she didn’t think she could maintain her composure when faced with their compassion and understanding. She’d deal with her disappointment and grief later, but for now, she had to get through the journey home.
She hadn’t ventured beyond the priory gates in two years and the world outside suddenly frightened her. Men frightened her. She wondered who’d come to collect her. She hoped it wasn’t Glen, one of her father’s favorite men-at-arms. Glen was young, handsome, and skilled with a sword, but his insolent tongue and aggressive personality had always intimidated her. She wouldn’t want to be alone with him for hours on end. Glen would do nothing to hurt her, not if he hoped to see the sun rise on another day, but it would be an awkward ride to say the least.
The path toward the gate was clear, but mounds of melting snow still dotted the landscape, and the ground was sodden. The weather had turned warmer since Palm Sunday, and the unmistakable smell of spring permeated the air. The sky was a pale blue, its vastness unmarred by even a wisp of a cloud.
Kate peered toward the gate. Her escort wasn’t there yet, so she turned off the path and headed toward the Lady’s Well. Kate made sure to keep to the well-trodden track so as not to get her feet wet. It would be an uncomfortable ride home if she were wet and cold. The track weaved through a grove of trees and emerged by a clear pool that was as smooth as a looking glass on this spring morning. The Lady’s Well was a lovely, peaceful spot, said to have been originally used by the Anglo-Saxon Saint Ninian to baptize early Christians in its holy water. When the Augustine canonesses had first settled at Holystone in the twelfth century, they had dedicated the well to the Virgin Mary, and had looked after it ever since.
Kate folded her hands, bowed her head, and offered up a fervent prayer to the Blessed Mother. She prayed to God all the time, but at times, only a woman could understand what was in a girl’s heart, and this was the place where Kate felt closest to the Virgin. She begged Mary to safeguard her on the journey home, to ease her mother’s suffering, and to guide her father toward choosing a man who would be kind and gentle, should a marriage be contracted for Kate.
She crossed herself and rose to her feet. Feeling a little more optimistic, she squared her shoulders and walked away from the well without a backward glance, ready to face whatever the future held.
Kate breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized Osbert waiting patiently by the gate with two horses. He was in his late forties, and had been recently widowed the last time Kate saw him two years ago. Osbert’s family had been in service to the Dancys for generations. They were kind, simple folk who were loyal to their lord and his family. She would be safe with Osbert on the journey home.
He kneaded his felt hat in his hands as he bowed to Kate in greeting. “I’m sorry for yer loss, me lady. Yer brothers were fine men, and brave soldiers.”
“Thank you, Osbert. It’s kind of you to say so. How are my parents?”
“Devastated, me lady. Yer lady mother has taken to her bed and hasn’t risen since.”
“I hope I can be of some comfort to her,” Kate said as Osbert gave her a leg-up. She’d forgotten how awkward a sidesaddle was, but it was the only acceptable way for a young woman of good family to ride, so she had to make the best of it.
“Yer very presence will sustain her, me lady,” Osbert replied kindly. He fitted Kate’s foot into the stirrup and mounted his own horse, ready to leave.
“I do hope we get home before dark,” Kate said as she took up the reins and followed Osbert toward the road. She didn’t like the idea of being on the road after dark, not even with an armed escort.
“If we don’t make too many stops, we aught be at the Grange before sundown, me lady. The sun’s setting later, now it’s springtime.”
That was true, but despite the lingering light, most people returned to their homes in time for supper and remained indoors after they’d eaten. Having finished their work, they looked forward to well-deserved rest in the
evening and spent the hours before bedtime sitting by the hearth or catching up on minor chores they hadn’t gotten to during the day. In the summer, people sat outside, enjoying the lengthy twilight and the fragrant evening air, but it was still too cold out to enjoy such pursuits, and once the sun set, it grew pitch dark as well.
Kate and Osbert rode in silence for a time. Being a serf, Osbert knew his place and didn’t speak to the mistress unless spoken to, and Kate had little to say, given her emotional state. The brief moment of optimism she’d felt after praying at the well had dissipated, now that she was on her way home. She grieved for her brothers, but she also grieved for herself and the future she’d been forced to abandon. She was frightened of what her father had in store for her, and wondered just how soon he intended to put his plans into action. If she knew her father, he wouldn’t wait too long to solidify whatever alliance he was hoping to make, especially now that the Duke of York was on the throne of England.
Lord Dancy was the Earl of Warwick’s cousin on Warwick’s mother’s side, and he mentioned his connection to the Nevilles at every opportunity. Kate now understood his boasting, given that her father was distant kin to the king himself, since Warwick was first cousin to King Edward on his sire’s side. Lord Dancy didn’t hold a position at court, at least not yet, but he was a very wealthy man whose fortune would sway many a potential in-law into considering his offspring’s suit. With her brothers gone, Kate was now an heiress, and if she understood anything at all about the world, she had just become vastly more desirable on the marriage market. If her father managed to marry her off to a Neville relation, his connection to the throne would grow even stronger, as would his influence.
It was close to noon when Kate noticed Osbert swaying in the saddle. At first, she assumed he was tired, but on closer inspection, he looked positively green at the gills.