The chamber he was in hadn’t been stripped; there were curtains around the bed for warmth and linens on the mattress, and he immediately went about constructing a rope from the fabric. With the three pieces of linen on the bed followed by allfour brocaded curtains tied end to end, he peered from the open window again to ensure no one was watching before securing the linen rope to the heavy bedframe and throwing the rest of it from the window. With hardly a back glance, he leapt onto the windowsill and began lowering himself down the rope.
Reaching the bottom, he still had about ten feet to go, so he released the rope and fell the rest of the way to the alleyway. He landed awkwardly on his ankle, twisting it, but he didn’t stop to examine it. He was on the run, so he hurried down the alley as fast as his injured ankle would take him and having no idea that, at this time, the very mole he was seeking was also fleeing from Farringdon House down a different avenue, returning to St. Blitha before her overlong absence was discovered.
The mole, and the spy, would soon cross paths.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Where have youbeen, Andressa?”
Having barely just returned to St. Blitha under the cover of darkness, Andressa was in the dim corridor leading to her tiny cell, and her uncomfortable bed, when Sister Petronilla had come out of the shadows. Andressa hadn’t even heard the woman and now, suddenly, she was standing face to face with her.
For a moment, Andressa simply stared at the woman. She’d barely had five words with the old nun in the four years she’d been at St. Blitha, but now it seemed as if they were to have their first real conversation.
And not a comfortable one.
“I delivered garments to Lady Hinkley,” Andressa answered after a moment. “You heard the Mother Abbess give me permission to do so. Lady Hinkley then asked me to remain for a time.”
Sister Petronilla’s gaze lingered on her for a moment as if debating whether or not to believe her. In fact, she was sizing up the woman altogether. It was clear that she didn’t like the idea of someone new joining the Mother Abbess’ band of attendants,so her scrutiny was on the young woman that the Mother Abbess seemed to favor.
Everyone at the abbey knew that Andressa had turned their laundry into a business, a business that the Mother Abbess was profiting greatly from, but Sister Petronilla didn’t see anything quite so remarkable in the young woman. She didn’t appear all that special to her.
Her jealousy was rising.
“Why did you stay so long?” she asked. “Did she feed you?”
“She did not,” Andressa replied. “I remained in her servant’s kitchen and warmed myself until she told me to go.”
Sister Petronilla’s gaze remained on her for a few more moments before deciding that interrogating the woman any further would be fruitless. It wasn’t as if Andressa didn’t already spend a good deal of time going back and forth between noble households, collecting laundry when the household servants were too busy to deliver it. It was part of her job. Therefore, Sister Petronilla let the subject drop.
For now.
“Our Gracious Mother has plans for you,” she finally said. “As she told you, she feels that our work must be carried on. Unfortunately, we will not live forever.”
Andressa breathed a sigh of relief that Sister Petronilla didn’t press her further about her absence. Still, she received the distinct sense that the older nun was suspicious of her. There was something in the woman’s dark eyes that suggested doubt.
Her guard was up.
“I am honored to carry out God’s work,” she replied steadily. “I am not worthy, but I shall endeavor to do my best. And I am honored to work in the garden with you. You have great skill with the herbs and flowers.”
Sister Petronilla turned away from her, heading back down the corridor and towards the doors that led to the courtyard outside.
“Walk with me,” she said.
“Where are we going?”
“Into the garden.”
“Now? But it is dark outside.”
“Much of what we do is in the shadows, Andressa. Come with me.”
Andressa did. She scooted after the woman, wondering why they were going out to the garden and just the least bit apprehensive about it. They headed back to a main reception chamber where the front door to the church was located and a second set of doors that led to the courtyard beyond. It had been those doors that Andressa had just come through as she’d come in from the yard.
The main reception chamber of St. Blitha was a cavernous room, stripped of all furnishings except for a shrine dedicated to St. Blitha. There was a tapestry of her on the stone wall, the ancient Roman saint who had been martyred by Roman soldiers. Sister Petronilla collected a bank of yellow tallow tapers from the shrine, candles that were always there lighting the tapestry of the saint, and moved to the doors that led to the courtyard.
Andressa followed.
Once outside again, the temperature was brisk and cold, with moisture heavy in the air. Sister Petronilla headed straight into the garden, turning once to ensure that Andressa was still behind her.
