by Shea,Lisa
Reynald nodded. “You have asked for the truth, and that is what I have given you.”
Sarah could not take it in. “Rachel is buxom,” she protested in confusion. “She is bubbly, flirtatious, and friendly! She is beautiful, blonde … everything I am not.”
Reynald looked at her in growing wonder. “How can you see your world so differently than I do?” he mused. “Do you forget the suitor you just had to turn away? Do you not see the admiration in the eyes of the guards who have ridden with you these last days?”
He took a step forward. “There is no doubt in my mind. It is you that I love, you that I respect.” He searched for a way to explain his feelings in a way Sarah would understand. His eyes lit on the carved wooden cross at her throat. “That necklace you wear, it is not golden and jeweled, as the one your sister has. Why do you treasure it?”
Sarah’s hand automatically went to her neck. “It was hand made personally for me, from a man I helped,” she reminisced. “The care put into it is far more valuable than gems or jewels to me.”
Reynald nodded. “When I look at Rachel, I see all the men she has waved her body at, men she had no interest in, men she used and discarded. It makes her attractions … cheap.”
His eyes tenderly held hers. “When I look at you, I remember the way you were ready to defend your friends at the burnt-out camp. I remember the dedication you poured into helping Cecily. Your honor and perseverance are far more appealing to me than any short-lived flirtatious charm could ever be.”
A wave of relief swept over her. She finally had a glimmer of understanding about Reynald’s feelings. Had she really been mistaken all this time?
“I thought you lusted after Rachel!” she blurted out, tears springing from her eyes. She let them fall, overwhelmed with joy.
Reynald shook his head in wonder. “You know me, Sarah. You know my drive for honor and truth. There was never any question about how I felt.” His eyes held hers. “I tried to tolerate her, for your sake, but it was you I cared for, from the first. You were so distant; I thought if I showed you how well I could fit in with your family -”
“Distant?” cried out Sarah, her heart overwhelmed with how wrong she had been. “I love you! I have loved you since … I do not know since when. It seems now as if I have always loved you, from that first day when you carried me in your arms …”
Reynald’s face went pale, and he took a step toward her, holding her arms. “You love me?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I have only dared to hope that maybe … someday …”
“Yes,” murmured Sarah, her eyes captivated in his gaze. “Oh, how I love you …” Tears cascaded down her face, and she paid them no mind. Nothing else mattered.
There was a loud crash behind them, and the door flung open. Walter stormed into the room, his eyes blazing with frustration.
His gaze swept across the room, taking in the bloody sheets, Sarah’s tear-stained face and Reynald’s grasp of her arms, and in a heartbeat his look went from frustration to fury. He drew his sword and moved on Reynald with a stormy glare.
Reynald threw his arms wide, keeping them clear of his weapons. “Wait, I can explain!”
Walter’s sword was at Reynald’s throat. The burly man held it there with a firm grasp.
Sarah flew to Walter’s side, gently pulling him backwards. “Let him be,” she reassured Walter, wiping the wetness from her face. “These are tears of joy, I swear it!”
Walter’s voice came out in an angry growl. “The cur took advantage of you. Battle skills or no, we will have him punished!”
Sarah shook her head, still pulling back on Walter. “It was I who wanted to spend the night with Reynald,” she insisted. “It was my choice.”
Walter did remove his sword from Reynald’s neck at this, and turned to stare at Sarah, a shocked look on his face. “Sarah – this is behavior more worthy of your sister!”
Sarah’s face blazed in anger at the comment. Was Walter so innocent, himself, that infamous night he had run off with her sister? Out of the corner of her eye she saw Reynald’s hand drop instinctively to the hilt of his sword.
“I am an adult,” she snapped at Walter, her voice full of steel. She tossed her head at the bloodied sheets. “Also, as you can see, I do not give my favors out lightly.”
She took a step backwards to stand at Reynald’s side. “I love Reynald. He has earned my respect a thousand times over. The last two days have shown me how little time we may have together. This is hardly the time for a wedding or any other such formal ceremony. If this was to be our last night together, then by God I will spend it with him in the way that I wish!”
Walter slowly lowered his sword, and a wry grin spread across his face. “Now there is the Sarah that I remember,” he chuckled. His eyes raised to meet Reynald’s. “Sir, what are your intentions?”
Reynald held his gaze firmly. “I have proposed to Sarah, and she has accepted my offer. She is to be my wife.” He put an arm gently around her shoulder.
A thrill coursed through her at his words, and she leant in against him. She was going to be with Reynald, raise a family with him … wake up every morning next to him …
Footsteps came racing down the hall, and in a moment Dorrie burst into the room. “There you are,” she cried out, spotting her husband. In a rush she drew in the state of the bed, Sarah’s disarray, and the fact that both men had drawn weapons. “What in the world?”
Sarah stepped forward, interceding. “We are engaged to be married!”
“Oh, Sarah!” cried out Dorrie with joy, and she ran forward to give her friend an enthusiastic embrace.
Sarah’s joy glowed through her as if she were filled with all the stars of the night sky.
Chapter 21
Once the other three had left the room to head downstairs, Sarah hurriedly donned her clothes, leaving behind the sword. She did understand Reynald’s concerns about the fight, and as much as it would cause her anguish, she would remain here rather than put him in further jeopardy. If it would keep him even a tiny bit safer, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make.
She ran down the stairs to join up with the group. Reynald spotted her the moment she came into the main room and put out an arm for her to join him at his side. There were cheers and congratulations shouted all around, and Sarah blushed.
It had all happened so quickly …
She looked up at Reynald, aware again that this might be the last time she saw him. Worry lanced her soul, and she pressed herself against him. He wrapped his arm more closely about her, holding her near.
Sarah’s voice was hoarse. “If only there was a way to have a parlay with them,” she sighed, her mind running through any possibility which might be helpful. “You said that Charles, at least, was once a friend of yours. If only there was someone he could talk to as an intermediary - a priest, his father, anyone.”
Reynald put a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I am afraid we have chased down every possibility we could,” he informed her. “It comes down to a fight.”
He tilted his head down to hers, and Sarah gave him a slow, tender kiss, pouring all of her love and affection into the action. It was several moments before he drew away. Around them, the men were heading out into the courtyard, and Reynald reluctantly moved with them.
Dorrie came up alongside Sarah as their two partners found their horses and prepared to mount. Sarah found herself near tears. “How do women do this?” she asked Dorrie, her voice shaky. “How can you watch them leave, knowing you might never see them again – that they will die without you there to help, to give them a final farewell?”
Dorrie gave her friend a tender hug. “In our own way, women are as strong as men are,” she commented. “We must have the willpower to stay behind, when it is our being safe that gives our husbands the ability to fight with the greatest focus.”
Sarah shook her head. “If only there was some other way. If only Charles’s priest was still alive … if only his mother was still alive …�
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Dorrie turned to stare at Sarah in confusion. “Charles of Swindon? He is the Templar you are after? But his mother is still alive.”
Sarah blinked. “What do you mean? I thought Charles’s mother died years ago.”
Dorrie shook her head. “When her son left for the crusades, Charles’s mother was furious. She therefore left her life – she sold off her belongings and joined a nunnery. She had it put out that she was now dead to the world.”
Her brow wrinkled in surprise at her friend’s confusion. “Surely I have told you about her? I see her occasionally when I go to visit Sister Cora - Tanya’s mother. They are at the Holy Mary of Grace nunnery, perhaps a twenty minute ride.”
Sarah did not hesitate. She lit out at a run straight to Reynald’s side. He looked down as she came, his brow creased with worry. “I know this is hard, Sarah, but -”
Sarah skidded to a stop. “Charles’s mother is alive!” she shouted, her heart pounding. “There is another way!”
Walter’s head came around to stare at the couple. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice echoing his disbelief.
Sarah nodded with her head toward Dorrie, who was watching the scene with confusion. “Dorrie has seen her at the nunnery several times. Charles’s mother didn’t die – she simply chose a new life.”
Walter looked at Reynald with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “That is a short ride from here. We could be there and back in no time, and if it is true …”
Reynald called over to the grooms. “Saddle up two horses for Sarah and Dorrie.” He looked over to Walter. “I hope you agree – I believe they should come with us. This might be a situation that needs a women’s touch to sort out.”
Walter nodded in understanding. “My wife has been to visit the nunnery many times. They know her there. This is a task that is best handled with the softest of kid gloves.”
The men waited as the horses were brought and the two women mounted. In only a few moments the four were headed out the gates, toward the nunnery.
Sarah relished the simple pleasure of cantering alongside Reynald through the beautiful morning sunshine. She glanced over to the man at her side every few minutes, caught up in just how proud she was to be engaged to him. He was all that she could ask for in a man – strong, trustworthy, and honorable.
Her looks did not go unnoticed; Reynald nudged his horse closer to hers as they rode down the lane, giving her a smile of contentment that melted her heart. She treasured every moment with him. She prayed that the nunnery would provide a solution that saved the men from a brutal battle.
All too soon they pulled up to the main gates of the nunnery. The guards recognized Dorrie at once. “Greetings there, M’Lady! Is this your husband you have with you? Who are your other two friends?”
Dorrie smiled down at the men. “The lady is my life long companion, Sarah. With Sarah is her new fiancé; they were just engaged!”
Sarah blushed as the guards shouted out their congratulations and encouragements while pulling open the large iron grate gates. There was a large open area, and she saw that one low stone building to the right held the stables. Other stone buildings were laid around the grassy courtyard, and the main church and halls were straight ahead.
The four moved toward the stables, relinquishing their mounts to the sister who waited within. Then they turned to head to the main hall.
Sarah saw movement in one of the upper windows, but before she could discern who it might be, a short, plump woman came hurrying toward them from the herb gardens to the left.
“Dorrie, is that you?” called the woman with delight. “It is always wonderful when you visit. Who have you brought …” Her eyes opened wide with surprise. “Why Sarah, it has been years!” she cried out. “Do you even remember me?”
Sarah stepped forward with a tender smile. “Of course I do, Cora. You were like a second mother to me. How are you?” She gave the woman a warm embrace, then stepped back to allow Dorrie to take her turn.
“This is my husband, Walter,” introduced Dorrie with a smile. “And the other gentleman is Reynald, newly engaged to Sarah.”
“My congratulations!” cried out Cora with a wide smile. “I am so happy that you have found someone to be with.” Her discerning eyes moved from Reynald to Walter, then back to Dorrie again. “I see that this is not a social visit …?”
Dorrie nodded. “You are astute as usual, my friend. I am afraid that we need to talk with Sister Gertrude about her son.”
Cora’s eyes became shadowed. “I thought it might come to this at some point,” she admitted with regret. “I will bring you to Mother Superior. She will insist that we have the conversation in her presence. Wait here, and I will find someone to fetch Gertrude as well.”
She hurried off toward the stables. After she had left, Sarah turned to Reynald, her mind sifting through the situation. “I imagine Charles would not believe us if we simply told him his mother was alive. We will have to ask to bring her with us to him – so that he sees her in person and agrees to speak with her.”
Reynald’s eyes sharpened as he looked at Sarah. “We? I thought we had agreed that you would remain behind.”
Sarah kept her tone even and straightforward. “That was when the only solution involved an all out war. I understand that I would have little to offer in that situation. Now you are bringing an elderly woman on a journey of several days, in order to have a truce discussion. She will need someone to help her; someone to assist her in ways which would be inappropriate for a man. If you are to keep her safe, it is no harder to keep both of us safe.”
Reynald took in a deep breath, but Cora was joining them again, motioning them forward. They headed up the stone steps, passing into the large, decorative main hallway. In a few moments time they were moving up a long set of wooden stairs to a landing. Before them stood a pair of ornate oak doors, with a sign beside them indicating that this was the Mother Superior’s receiving room.
Cora had barely knocked on the doors when an austere voice called out, “Do come in.”
Cora slowly opened the door. The room within was richly furnished with fine mahogany chairs, shelves, and a desk to one corner. A trio of large windows overlooked the main courtyard, and a fireplace lay dormant on the back wall. The summer sun streamed in warmly, and two windows let in a gentle breeze.
Cora made the introductions while the group bowed and curtsied. Sarah and Dorrie took a pair of seats side by side, and their men stood behind them, putting themselves quietly in a subordinate position.
Footsteps sounded outside the door, and Sarah turned to see a woman in her sixties, looking leathered rather than wrinkled, enter the room. She was tall, perhaps five foot nine, and straight as a pole. Her arms and legs were well muscled, and her eyes carried a no-nonsense look in them. The sole decoration on her simple habit was a wooden pin above her breast, in the shape of a dove.
She made her obeisance to Mother Superior, then turned to scan the occupants of the room. “I knew it would come to this,” she snapped in a rough, deep voice. “Well, out with it. What has my son done now that you need my help with?”
Mother Superior’s eyebrow twitched, but her face was serene as she motioned toward a chair. “Perhaps you might sit, Gertrude,” she offered with solicitude. “This could take a little while to explain.”
Gertrude shrugged and took the seat indicated, planting her feet down solidly once she had settled in. “Fine, talk away,” she agreed, looking to Dorrie and Sarah with a tolerant air.
Dorrie glanced at Sarah before beginning. “You know who I am; we have spoken several times on my previous visits. The man behind me is my husband, Walter. With us are Sarah, who is known to Cora, and her fiancé, Reynald. Reynald served with your son in the Knights Templar.”
Gertrude’s glance flickered to Reynald’s, her eyes stoic. “You poor man,” she offered with a short laugh. “I imagine that was not much fun.” She immediately looked back to Sarah and Dorrie, dismissing him. “So?”
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Dorrie turned to Sarah, who took up the thread. “Charles was a well-respected knight who performed his duties fairly,” she explained to the mother. “That was, up until he heard news of your passing. The grief that he was not with you at your deathbed overwhelmed him.”
Gertrude scoffed at this, but Sarah could see a softening of her eyes. Encouraged, Sarah pressed forward with the story. “In his despair, Charles took to drink, and he fell in with a rough crowd. The two men who he spent the most time with were far from ideal companions. They turned him from his proper path, slowly, and finally convinced him to leave the Holy Land to return home. They now seem to use their skills and strength to harm those they should be protecting.”
Gertrude nodded. “I had heard of the goings on in the area. I knew it sounded like the typical bullying of Templars.” She snorted a laugh. “How that group ever got the power they have now, I am sure I do not know.”
Sarah could sense Reynald stiffen behind her, and she spoke quickly to diffuse the situation. “These cutthroats are renegade rogues. They have violated every Templar pledge with their actions. We have already killed one of the trio in a fight. Your son and the other Templar have a large group of men at their command, however. If we cannot find a peaceful way out of this, dozens of men will die in the next day or two before peace returns to this area.”
Gertrude sat back, considering. “It does put a damper on my weekly riding plans, to have cutthroats loose in the woods,” she murmured with a distracted air. “Also, I suppose I do have some responsibility for the whelp that I raised.”
She languorously stretched, then cracked her knuckles and looked at Sarah. “Fine. When do we leave?”
The mother superior, who had been watching the interchange with a tolerant gaze, put up a hand. “Not so quickly,” she reminded the group. “There are still two issues I would like to have settled before I agree to this.”
All eyes turned to her, and she waited a moment before continuing. “First, Gertrude, talk with Cora before you go. You may be gone for quite a while; the rehabilitation of your son may take longer than you think. Be sure Cora understands your current assignments.”
