All three of the nuns had been with the Mother Abbess for such a long time that trust wasn’t much of an issue. She did trust them, for the most part, but it wasn’t a blind trust. There was always some suspicion to it. Complete trust was a foolish thing so, in truth, Alasdair’s revelation didn’t shock her much.
But she did want to know where the news had originated from.
“I have three women that I have known for years,” she finally said. “We have worked together on many occasions.”
“And ye’re sure they’ve not told anyone else?”
The Mother Abbess shrugged. “I cannot be sure of that,” she said, turning towards Alasdair. “Clearly, someone has spoken about this. Or mayhap, the knight who captured you only told you such things so that you would betray your purpose. Mayhap, he manipulated you into confessing. Did you think of that?”
Alasdair shook his head. “He knew everything,” he said flatly. “I told him nothing, but he toldmea great deal. He even spoke of Richard’s bastard son, something no one is supposed tae know of. But someone at St. Blitha did know– and they’ve told John’s men.”
The Mother Abbess sipped at her wine. “That may be,” she said casually. “But the king has not cancelled his visit to St. Blitha. I would have been informed by now. Until he does, we do not deviate from our plans.”
Alasdair threw up his hands. “It is possible that the king simply willna come. Do ye think he’ll tell ye if he finds out that ye plan tae kill him? Ye should be worrying about bolting yer doors and fighting off men who will be coming tae arrest ye!”
The Mother Abbess smiled, but it was without humor. “The allegations would have to be proven,” she said, “and nothing can be proven unless you yourself confirm these rumors. You would do well to stay out of sight, Douglas. If they happen to catch youagain and you talk, know that we can reach you anywhere. We can kill you as easily as we can kill a king.”
Alasdair’s eyes widened. “Ye’d be a fool tae try, witch,” he said. “I’ll not make an easy target. Better men than ye have tried.”
“Then stay out of sight and we’ll not have any issues.”
Alasdair eyed the woman; she was so calm and collected as she threatened a man’s life, which was a particularly eerie talent.
And he believed every word.
“Dinna worry about me,” he said. “Worry about yerself. If the king comes tae the feast day, then ye’d better mind yerself. They’ll be looking for ye tae move against him.”
The Mother Abbess took another drink of wine before answering. “We have nothing to fear,” she said. “God is on our side. He shall see that the Holy Father’s plans are accomplished.”
Alasdair sighed heavily; the woman didn’t seem upset by the news in the least. She remained confident that all would work out as it should. As he looked back to his ankle, rubbing at it, there was a soft knock on the door. The Mother Abbess bade the caller to enter, and the door opened to produce Sister Petronilla.
“I am sorry, Gracious Mother,” she said, pausing when she saw Alasdair. “I did not realize you still had your guest.”
She started to close the door, but the Mother Abbess waved her in. “Come in, Sister Petronilla,” she said. “Come in and meet Alasdair Baird Douglas, a man who is close to our Holy Father. He is so close, in fact, that he is the one who delivered the Holy Father’s instructions to us regarding the king.”
Sister Petronilla entered the chamber, her dark gaze on Alasdair. “Welcome to St. Blitha, Brother,” she said, looking him up and down. “I did not know who you were when you entered earlier. If I was rude, my apologies.”
Alasdair barely glanced at the woman; he was more focused on his injured ankle. The Mother Abbess could see that he was working over the joint and she turned to Sister Petronilla.
“He seems to have injured himself,” she said. “Mayhap there is something in the garden that can help his swelling.”
Sister Petronilla peered at the ankle, but from a distance. “I was just in the garden with Andressa,” she said. “I can return and gather a few things that may help the pain.”
The Mother Abbess looked at her. “Andressa?” she said. “What was she doing outside in the darkness? Surely she wasn’t washing clothing at this hour.”
Sister Petronilla shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “We were discussing the plants in the garden and their particular properties for our task with the king. She had just returned from Lady Hinkley’s and she said that she must go to her again.”
The Mother Abbess’ brow furrowed. “Tonight?”
“Aye, Gracious Mother.”
“But why?”
“Because she said Lady Hinkley was not ready with her washing the first time. She told Andressa to return, and that is what she is doing because you said it was important to keep Lady Hinkley happy.”
It was true; Mother Abbess had said that. But as she realized that, she also realized that Andressa knew of the plot against John, too, and in the course of her duties as the laundress, she traveled in and out of St. Blitha quite freely. It was true that she was an obedient girl, and had proven herself, but trust on this level was not something the Mother Abbess had experienced with her. Though she’d never known the girl to gossip or even talk, there was always the possibility that, in this case, she had.
In truth, anything was possible.
