“Do I—I just go?” Brighit finally asked.
“I’ll help you.” Esther reached toward her. “Best not to keep him waiting.”
Ruth was quiet but kept her eyes on Brighit.
Brighit followed Esther down the hall that led to the back of the Priory. They turned right at the entrance to the chapel. A huge door at the end of the hall was shut. That was the Great Hall. Small alcoves built into the stone ran along the wall to her right. Heavy curtains that would close off the rooms for warmth at night were all pushed aside now. Each one identical to the next. Trepidation joined fear and her stomach gurgled.
“Why do we go this way? Where will I be meeting Father Tinsley.”
Esther did not answer. She turned back at Brighit, those wide eyes sending her heart into a faster pace. They stopped beside the alcove Brighit had been given as her own.
“Here? He will meet me here?”
It was barely big enough for the pallet that lay on the floor. It would be a tight squeeze to have someone else in there with her.
“Yes. You’d best spend your time in prayer as you wait.”
“What?” Brighit’s heart leapt into her throat until she remembered prayer was what they did here. “Oh, yes.”
“Repentance for sin will come after he leaves,” Esther said then retreated back the way they’d come.
Brighit’s sense of foreboding increased three-fold with that cryptic statement. She looked around the tiny area. Too small to even pace in. The single candle that burned in the blackened holder on the wall cast the room in flickering shadows. She smoothed the stiff material of her new clothes. It crinkled beneath her fingers. Her hand paused at the slight bulge of her knife still tucked beneath her robes. The security it gave her was not something she was willing to part with just yet.
A distant clicking sound drifted to her from the direction of the chapel. Its rhythmictapgetting louder as it moved closer. She felt a sudden urge to run. The clicking was nearly to her room. Perhaps it wasn’t Father Tinsley. Perhaps it would pass by.
Brighit backed against the wall. She took a deep breath and held it before blowing it out in a whoosh. This was ridiculous. If it was the priest, no doubt he’d come to welcome her and see that she had everything she needed. The heavy curtain was being pulled back. She glanced around for anything to hold on to. There was nothing.
A man with slightly graying black hair stood in the opening, a kind smile on his face.
“Welcome, Sister Mary. How wonderful to finally meet you.”
He didn’t take the few steps into the room. Brighit forced herself away from the wall and curtsied. “Thank you, Father.”
“Come nearer to me.” He motioned her closer with spotless hands and neatly trimmed fingernails.
She knew her own were stained with carrots and beet juice and hid them behind her as she stepped in front of him.
“I am Father Tinsley.”
Brighit dipped her head. “Father Tinsley.”
He placed his hand on her cheek. His hand was like ice. “You are a lovely woman.”
She couldn’t control the shiver that went through her body.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“Forgive me, I was—”
“Ah,” he interrupted her with the raise of his finger. “Forgiveness actually means something here. It is not to be given lightly.”
She flashed him an awkward smile then started again. “It was very warm in the kitchens. I was sweating.” She attempted to smile again but it felt like a grimace.
Father Tinsley’s eyes closed slightly. “Ah, yes. Soup duty. The other women are working the devil out of you.”
“What?”
His eyes widened. “The devil? Have you never heard of him?”
