Кэндис Робб: The Nun’s Tale

Bess tapped Lucie’s cup with hers. “Why did she run away with Stefan and then murder him?” A knowing nod.

“Where is Daimon?”

“He and Sir Robert went to St George’s Field. They will return soon.”

Lucie found it difficult to wait for an escort, but it was no use arriving at St Mary’s before Joanna woke.

Sir Robert returned early from St George’s Field, exhausted, admitting his age. Bess rose from her seat. “Come, Sir Robert. Let us go back to the tavern and rest. Lucie has business with Daimon. Some heavy lifting.” Bess winked at Lucie.

When Bess had led Sir Robert safely away, Lucie asked Daimon to escort her to the abbey. He agreed at once, eager to oblige her in any way.

But for the church bells the city was quieter on Sunday than on other days. People moved about the streets, but they did so in more measured paces. It was midday, the sun warm on Lucie’s back as she crossed the abbey grounds. She noticed little of her surroundings, rehearsing in her head how she would confront Joanna.

Prudentia rose from Joanna’s bedside as Lucie entered and hurried over, her hands outspread, her ruddy face crumpled in distress. “God help her, Joanna will take neither food nor drink today, Mistress Wilton. She says she must die now. That it is Our Lady’s wish. You must reason with her.”

Lucie assured the infirmaress that she would try. “And you must have some food and rest. Go now. I shall watch over her.”

“I should stay with her.”

“God go with you, Dame Prudentia,” Lucie said firmly. “I wish to speak with her alone.”

“Ah.” Prudentia was suddenly all smiles. “Then I shall of course leave you with her.” She shuffled off in good cheer.

Joanna lay on the bed with the medal pressed to her heart, her eyes fastened on Lucie. “I have confessed my sins. You have heard?” Her voice was hoarse.

Lucie took a seat beside the bed, dipped a spoon into the cup of wine the infirmarian had poured for Joanna, grabbed Joanna’s jaw with one hand, pressed the spoon to Joanna’s closed mouth. Joanna tried to turn away, but Lucie held her firmly. “You shall drink this, Joanna, for we must talk.”

Joanna pressed her lips together.

“Must I bring in Daimon to pry open your mouth? For I shall, Joanna, so help me God. You should be grateful that I have discovered your secret, the sin you have not confessed. If you died without confessing it, you would die in a state of sin, not of grace.”

Joanna relaxed her jaw, accepted the spoon, coughing as the liquid trickled down her dry throat.

Lucie nodded, sat back. “When you wish for more, ask.”

Joanna studied Lucie’s face. “What secret?”

“I speak of that sin of which you repented all those years ago. Of which that medal is a symbol.”

Joanna’s eyes went cold.

Lucie took a deep breath. “How young were you when you and Hugh became lovers, Joanna?”

Joanna clutched the medal.

“Young enough not to know what you did? Incest is not a venial sin, Joanna. Did Hugh rape you?”

Joanna’s eyes widened. She lifted her head from the pillow. “Rape?” She gave a surprised little laugh. “Did your captain need to rape you? I think not. I think you rejoiced when you saw the hunger in his eye.” She lay back down with a conspiratorial smile. “And why not love my brother? Why should I be denied perfection because I was his sister? You think your captain is handsome.” She waved away anticipated protests. “Hugh was more handsome still. Strong, brave, everything a man should be. I adored him.” Joanna shrugged her eyebrows. “That, too, is sinful.”

Lucie wondered about this new mood. “Then you did plan to run away together?”

Joanna’s eyes were teasing one moment, filled with tears the next, though she tried to keep the smile frozen on her face. “We were off to France.” A sob escaped. Joanna dabbed at her eyes. The smile vanished. “But he was not perfection. What he did to Will Longford–” She shook her head, closed her eyes. Her paleness worried Lucie. Even Joanna’s lips were chalky. Lucie offered her the cup of wine. Joanna drank with one eye on Lucie. “I could not confess this sin to Brother Wulfstan.”

Odd that Brother Wulfstan inspired a timidity in Joanna. No one else seemed to. “You are attempting to commit an even more serious sin – to end your life.”

“It is Our Lady’s wish.”

Lucie knew the futility of arguing Joanna out of her delusion. “What did Hugh want with the seal of St Sebastian?”

Joanna looked surprised. “I have just told you my brother and I were lovers. Have I not shocked you?”

“I want the truth. At the moment, that is all my concern.”

Joanna shrugged. “The seal would introduce Hugh as du Guesclin’s man and get us a safe conduct to France.”

“From Scarborough?”

“No. Farther south.”

“Why France?”

“No one would know we were brother and sister. We could be wed.”

Lucie marvelled at the naïvety. Joanna and Hugh had reckoned without the long reach of the Church. But perhaps the Church turned a blind eye to du Guesclin. So they had planned to marry. “What of Stefan?”

Joanna turned away. “He never offered marriage.”

“I am surprised your brother did. Mercenaries rarely attach themselves to a family. But then, Hugh must have loved you very much to be so angry with Longford.”

Joanna’s breath caught. She crossed herself. “I cannot forgive what he did to Longford. I thought it had been quick. But what he must have suffered! Dear God, when I felt the earth raining on me, I could not remember how to draw breath. I could not scream. The earth was crushing me, pressing into me.”

“I did not think they had truly buried you.”

Joanna shook her head. “But the feeling .”

“You told this to Hugh?”

“He already hated Longford. What I told him was just the excuse. Longford had made Hugh look a fool to the Percies. I know Hugh. That is why he left without a word. He knew I would not want him to do it.”

“He was a cruel man?”

“He once burned the hand of a servant for a silly mistake. Hugh laughed while the boy howled. I could not bear it. I grabbed the boy’s hand and pressed it into the snow.” Joanna’s voice suddenly flattened. “My Mother hated Hugh.”

“Yet you loved him.”

“It takes strength to be cruel.”

Lucie thought the opposite. “Why did your mother hate her son?”

Joanna struggled to sit up, refusing Lucie’s help. She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms about her legs as if anchoring herself. “The way she died, walking into the water… Did she take her life? Because of him? Or because of us?”

Lucie said nothing.

“Mother came upon us. Naked, in my bed. Hugh and I. She did not punish us. She simply said that a child born of us would be cursed. She gave me a plant to chew, so that I should not beget monsters.”

“Did you go to St Clement’s in repentance? Is that why you took your vows?”

Joanna pressed her forehead to her knees. “If I could not have Hugh, I thought I wanted no man. But I was wrong. I found Stefan.”

So she had loved Stefan. At least cared for him. “Where is Stefan, Joanna?”

Joanna raised her eyes to Lucie’s. The green eyes swam with tears. “He is no more.” The voice a quivering whisper.

“What happened?”

Joanna closed her eyes, rocked from side to side, letting the tears fall. “He had a wife. Did you know?”

“Yes,” Lucie whispered.

“Jesu, I am accursed. My love is always sin.”

“Stefan followed you to Hugh’s house?”

“Hugh told me what he had done. But not the whole truth, not like your captain said. Hugh only said he had returned to Beverley to bury Longford in my grave – alive. He promised to protect me. Care for me.” Her voice broke. Lucie handed her the wine. Joanna drank. “He had the seal. He had written letters for our safe passage, sealed with Sebastian’s emblem. We would go to France. But we must go quickly. Right then. He was gathering his things. He said the house was no longer safe. His men had deserted him.”