Silent Knight. Tori Phillips

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ August. My father provided me with my aunt as chaperon. I also had good Gaston, a dozen men-at-arms, my maid, Suzette...” Here, she faltered and bowed her head for a moment. Father Jocelyn had the distinct impression that the lady’s tale was not a pleasant one.

      “There were also two wagons, and the drivers,” she continued in a soft throaty voice.

      Father Jocelyn cocked one eyebrow. “Two wagons? Pray, go on, my lady.”

      “All went well—in France.”

      “Ah, ’twas the crossing of the Channel?” The prior had done that once himself, when he visited Italy in his youth. He had vowed if God would let him live through the experience, he would never leave England again.

      “Oui!” Her eyes flashed. “We were all sick, even the poor horses. In truth, good Father, I prayed for death over and over as our ship pitched and dived among the waves. Is that not wicked of me?”

      Father Jocelyn shook his head. “Understandable, given the circumstances.”

      “It was over a week before we landed safely in a place called Bristol. I must confess that I fell to my knees and kissed the ground.”

      “Also understandable.” Father Jocelyn had done the same thing upon his return to England.

      “Pah! Had I known what was in store for us here, I would have turned right around and ordered that miserable boat back to France!”

      Brother Giles tittered. The prior flashed him a scorching look. Father Jocelyn wished he could send the younger man back to the kitchen; however, the lady’s reputation, as well as the prior’s, required that a third party be present at all times. Who would have expected that sober-minded Giles would be reduced to a quivering mass of suet pudding by a smoky voice and a pair of violet eyes?

      “Once our stomachs returned to their rightful places, we set out, going north toward Chester, I believe. I fear I am not acquainted with the English countryside.”

      “No one would expect you to be,” interjected Brother Giles with feeling. Father Jocelyn glared at him.

      “Oui! You have grasped the very kernel of the truth. Our party wandered over hill and dale, because it amused the common folk to misguide us—even when we paid them for their directions. I am sure we looked a fool’s progress as we turned in circles at their whim. Indeed, at one point we discovered we were headed in the opposite direction, when we found a milepost pointing back toward Bristol!”

      “Surely there must have been some honest folk you met on your way?”

      Lady Celeste shrugged her shoulders slightly. “Oui, though it took us nearly a month to find one. When at last we were headed north again, the skies turned against us, and it rained for days on end.”

      “I fear our weather is one of the crosses we must bear,” the prior remarked gently.

      “It rained so much that all the little brooks became rushing rivers. We lost a wagon while fording one. If it were not for Pierre’s quick thinking, we would have lost the horses, as well. He leapt on the back of the lead mare as she thrashed in the water. At peril of his own life, he cut the traces. Our Pierre is only sixteen, but he is very brave, no?” Her eyes sparkled as she recounted the harrowing incident.

      He’s probably suffering the loss of his wits. The prior kept that observation to himself. The girl warmed to her tale, despite its gravity. Father Jocelyn found himself wondering if she secretly relished the adventure. How unsuitable for a young lady of gentle breeding!

      “We were able to save some of the furnishings my mother sent with me for my new home, but the wagon? Fah! Firewood! ” She sipped her wine. “Gaston sent the first driver and his team back to Bristol.” She sighed. “They are most likely at home by now.”

      Father Jocelyn suspected the young lady wished she was back in L’Étoile, as well. He couldn’t blame her. When he saw a small frown knot itself between her delicate eyebrows, he asked, “There is more?”

      Lady Celeste sighed again. “Oui, though I wish there were not. I believe we ate some poorly cooked food in an inn outside of...” She struggled to think of the name. “Outside of Hereford. Many of my men came down with stomach cramps. It was most piteous to hear them moan. At one point, I feared for their lives. My dear little maid, Suzette—she was so very sick. We stayed in that miserable town for almost two weeks. At last, everyone recovered, but they were very weak. Suzette lost so much weight, I could not bear the thought of making her continue the journey. She is only fourteen, Father. When she was well enough, I sent her back to Bristol with three of the men.”

      The prior shook his head. The lady sitting opposite him didn’t look much older than her maid, yet she seemed to have been made stronger by the series of setbacks. “And now your aunt. It seems God has sorely tested your mettle, ma petite.”

      Her eyes flashed with an inner fire. “You have spoken truly, Father, yet I must go on. My father gave his word that I would wed Walter Ormond, and the word of the chevalier of Fauconbourg is golden. Even if I arrive at Snape Castle in only my shift, I must go on. The honor of my family is at stake.”

      The bridegroom’s name jangled a faint bell within Father Jocelyn’s memory. He had heard something about a branch of the Ormond family that was not altogether savory. “Walter Ormond? Would his father be Sir Roger Ormond?”

      For the first time that evening, she truly smiled. The effect nearly shattered Brother’s Giles’s fragile composure. “Oui, the very same!” She clapped her hands with delight. “Do you know him, good Father?”

      The prior wet his lips before answering. He had half a mind to tell her to flee back to France immediately, but he suspected she would face death before disgracing the family name. “The Ormonds live on the northern outskirts of civilization. I fear they are a rough and uncultured lot. Tell me, my child. How is it such a well-bred lady as yourself happened to become betrothed to the heir of such a far-flung estate?”

      Lady Celeste swallowed at his words, though her gaze never wavered. “My father came to know Sir Roger and his son eight years ago, when your King Henry met with our king, Francois, at a beautiful city of tents outside of Calais, which people now call the Field of Cloth of Gold.” Her violet eyes gleamed as she recalled that near-legendary event.

      “My father was a member of Francois’s court, and he entertained Sir Roger often during that fortnight. Oh, Father Jocelyn! I was there for a few days with my mother and sisters. It was truly the most magnificent sight!”

      The old prior nodded. He had heard of the sumptuous feasts, the splendid tournaments and the brilliance of the two glittering courts, each vain monarch trying to outshine the other. He could well imagine how such a magnificent sight would have impressed the imagination of a young girl. “How many sisters have you, ma petite?”

      “I have the honor of being the fifth and youngest daughter of Roland de Montcalm.” Her chin tilted up a notch.

      “Five daughters! And brothers?”

      “Only one survived. Philippe is the baby of the family.” She looked wistful as she spoke of her little brother. “We spoil him terribly.”

      “Are your sisters married?” Father Jocelyn wondered if they were as striking as the lady opposite him.

      “Oui, that is why my father allowed all СКАЧАТЬ