Candace Robb - The Nun's Tale

Jasper nodded.

Not a time for instruction. Lucie touched his shoulder, pointed to the corner of a shelf behind her. A ball of white and orange fluff was tucked into the spot where she had removed the jar of lovage. Jasper jumped up to pet the kitten, who at once began a loud, rumbling purr. The boy rubbed his forehead against the kitten. ‘He is soft as down.’ The voice was calm now, gentle with affection.

It was just the reaction Lucie had hoped for. ‘What would you like to name him?’

Jasper lifted his head, looked at Lucie with surprise. ‘I am to name him?’

‘I should like that.’

‘Why?’

‘I thought you might take particular care of him in these next months, when I shall be quite busy.’

Jasper glanced at her widening middle, then quickly turned back to the kitten.

Lucie winced at her clumsiness. She had brought up another topic that put him in mind of his mother. At least she recognised it. At first she had not understood why Jasper reacted oddly to any mention of the baby; it was Bess who reminded Lucie that Jasper’s mother had been pregnant when she died, and worse, it had been the baby who had poisoned her.

‘What other herb lore did you learn from Mistress Fletcher?’

Still stroking the kitten, Jasper said softly, ‘That “He who would live for aye/ Must eat sage in May.” ’

‘Live for ever? I had no idea.’

‘And she gave Mother sprigs of St John’s Wort to keep under her pillow to dream of her future husband.’

‘In case it was not to be Will Crounce?’

Jasper nodded.

‘What else?’ Surely there were some that did not remind him of his mother. ‘What about rue? Such a powerful herb, she must have had some words about rue.’

‘Rue grows best when it’s stolen.’

Lucie laughed. ‘No! Truly?’

Jasper turned round, gave a tearful smile. Lucie dropped the pestle and put her hands out. He ran to her and hugged her tight.

‘I shall be fine, Jasper. Magda Digby says both mother and child are healthy. She sees no signs of trouble. I am not going to leave you.’ She stroked his flaxen hair. His arms tightened round her.

‘Now that’s a fine thing to come home to. My wife in the arms of another man.’

Lucie and Jasper both looked up with smiles as Owen filled the doorway.

Dusty and smelling of horse, Lucie thought she had never loved him more than at that moment. She hurried round the counter. He dropped his pack, pressed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her hard. ‘I have missed you,’ he whispered.

Tears in her eyes, Lucie just nodded and took his arms, put them round her. ‘A hug will not crush me.’

Owen hugged her with care, covered her face with kisses. Then he looked over at Jasper. ‘You have taken good care of my lady, Jasper. How shall I repay you?’

‘Take me to the butts this Sunday to watch you train the men?’ The boy’s eyes were hopeful.

‘Is that all you require?’

The boy nodded.

‘Would that all debts might be settled so pleasantly.’

Jasper’s face lit up.

Lucie squeezed Owen’s arm in thanks.

Lucie had fallen asleep as soon as she had lain down on the bed, but she woke during the night and opened the shutters, letting the moonlight shine on Owen, on the dark hair on his chest and arms. She touched the curls at his temples, ran her fingers gently along the beard that followed his chin. Blessed Mary, Mother of God, thank you for guiding him safely home.

Owen’s right eye fluttered open. He kissed her hand and asked sleepily, ‘Are you unwell?’

‘I am well. And content. You had a long journey. Do not let me keep you up.’

‘You have trouble sleeping?’

‘Now and then. Magda says it might become more frequent towards the end and is nothing to worry about.’

‘But you must keep up your strength.’

‘Owen, do not worry.’

He propped his head up on one elbow. ‘You said in your letter that Jasper was to stay for Corpus Christi and then return to the abbey school. I did not expect him to be here still.’

‘He wished to stay a while longer. Wulfstan and I agreed that it is best to let Jasper decide for himself where he wishes to be. At present it is here.’

Owen stroked Lucie’s bare leg. ‘The moonlight makes your skin quite magical.’

Lucie wiggled her toes. ‘It makes me feel quite magical. I like the middle of the night. Sometimes. When you are here.’ She was angry with herself the moment she said it. She had never been one to whine before.

‘I promise not to leave again before the baby comes.’

There. She had made him feel guilty about having been away on the archbishop’s business. She had seen the light in his eyes today. He was tired, disturbed by what he had learned, but refreshed by the experience. It seemed a small price to pay to have him content when he was at home. ‘You were wonderful with Jasper today. Try as I will, I cannot bring such a smile to his face.’

‘I am glad he wants to stay.’

‘I have asked him to name the kitten.’

Owen shifted onto his side. ‘I confess you puzzle me with the kitten. Melisende seems enough cat for anyone. We are never plagued by mice.’

‘The kitten will follow Melisende and learn to be a good mouser.’ Lucie ran her hand down Owen’s side. ‘You will like it.’

‘What is there to like or not like about a cat? When they have no mice to torment, they fuss and bother and go off hunting for days and worry you.’

About to say that Melisende was good company while Owen was away, Lucie caught herself, thanks be to God, and just shrugged. ‘Jasper has taken to the kitten.’

‘I begrudge you and Jasper nothing that makes you happy.’ Owen sat up. ‘You have asked me very little about Scarborough and Beverley.’

‘I wanted you to choose the time. When you were rested, ready to think about it again.’

‘Hugh Calverley is dead. So is Longford.’

‘Jesu. The toll keeps rising.’

‘I want to tell Joanna. Can she speak?’

‘When I saw her yesterday, she was able to whisper. By tomorrow her voice might be even stronger.’

‘Good.’

Lucie frowned, picked at the edge of her shawl, remembering the horror that followed hard upon the news of Joanna’s mother’s death. Another thing she could not speak of to Owen. She had purposely been vague in her letter about whether she had seen Joanna’s wounds. ‘I suppose we cannot delay telling her.’

Owen slipped an arm round Lucie. ‘You are thinking about what happened before, when we told her of her mother’s death.’

Lucie nodded, snuggled against Owen’s warm body.

‘We must confront her with it, Lucie. She has spoken of someone buried alive.’

Lucie crossed herself. Let it not be Hugh.

‘You are not asking me. .’ Owen said, trying to see her expression.

Lucie took a deep breath. ‘I want to know, but it is such a horrible question.’ Which one was alive when they buried him ? She shook her head.

‘It was Longford.’

‘Will Longford.’ Lucie crossed herself again, grateful the dream had been wrong. ‘I am glad it was not her brother.’

‘Hugh was not a kindly person, Lucie. No better than Longford it seems.’

Lucie clutched her shawl tighter. She had not told him about her nightmare. She could not rid herself of that vision of Joanna burying her brother alive. ‘Where was Longford buried?’

‘Beneath Jaro.’

‘But they had opened Jaro’s grave.’

‘And had not looked closely. He was not visible without shifting Jaro. It took four of us to lift Jaro from the grave — he was one of the fattest men I have ever seen.’

‘Even so, Longford was a strong man, wasn’t he?’