“You don’t have to worry about her anymore, David. I will protect your mother—and you, if you’ll let me.”
David gave him a look as if he wanted to believe him, but his long-held wariness held him back. Given what the lad had been through, it was understandable.Like his mother, Kenneth realized. Mary, too, was wary because of her past. Earning her trust was the key to unlocking her heart. But how the hell was he going to do that when he wasn’t telling her the truth about his allegiance and purpose for being here?
The lad stood. “I need to return this to Sir John or he’ll have me spending the rest of the day mucking stalls and cleaning garderobes like a serf.”
Kenneth chuckled. “There’s no shame in hard work, lad. I’ve had to muck a few stalls and dig in a few cesspits myself.”
He might as well have announced he’d grown wings and flown to the moon.
“You have?”
“Aye. Name any unpleasant task, and I assure you I’ve done it.”
David eyed him skeptically. “When you were a squire?”
“Nay, when I was a knight. In war, you do what needs to be done, no matter how unpleasant or menial. I’ll let you in on a little secret: I actually find ‘menial’ labor relaxing.”
David laughed as if he knew he must be jesting now. “I’ll know who to come to then the next time I’m punished.”
Kenneth smiled and watched the boy hustle away. A few minutes later he followed. Reluctantly. David wasn’t the only one not looking forward to Felton’s punishment. Kenneth knew it was going to take everything he had to keep his temper under control.
* * *
It was late morning by the time Mary finished her transaction with the merchant recommended by Master Bureford in the village. But if she hurried, she should have time for one more errand before returning to the castle.
There was a small church and nunnery nearby, and she couldn’t pass by either without inquiring about her sister. She gazed up at the sun, already high in the sky. She bit her lip, knowing that the feast would be underway soon. But this wouldn’t take long.
Collecting the two soldiers who’d accompanied her from the place where she’d asked them to wait while she went about her business—not wanting them to see that she wasn’t shopping, but selling, she mounted the old horse that she’d borrowed from Sir Adam and informed them of their next destination. Assuming that she meant to pray or give a donation, the men didn’t protest the change in the instructions given to them by Sir Adam to see her to the market and back. Though the horse was docile and it was still safe for her to ride, she had to admit she wouldn’t have minded Kenneth’s protective arms around her.
Mary felt a stab of guilt at not telling Kenneth where she was going. But she knew he would question her, and she didn’t want to lie to him. She would not be caught in the position of helplessness and dependency that she was in before. The money she earned from her embroidery work was her protection against that. It belonged to her, no matter that the law would see it otherwise. She had nothing to feel guilty about.
Yet she did. And not just about hiding the money from him, but also for this morning. I’ll make it up to him, she vowed, but still couldn’t completely assuage the niggle of disquiet.
The small church and nunnery were located just on a hill above the bustling Berwick-upon-Tweed market. It took only a few minutes to reach the gate. Walls protected most of the churches in Berwick and other border towns, not that they seemed very efficient in keeping out raiders.
Leaving the soldiers with the horses, she approached the church first, and then when her inquiries proved fruitless, the nunnery.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” the abbess said. “I was here three years ago, and I don’t recall a woman as you describe seeking refuge.” She studied Mary a little closer. “You say she was your twin?”
Mary nodded. “We look very much alike.” Even more so now that Mary no longer looked like a “half-starved sparrow.” She glanced down at the gown she wore. For her journey into the city, she’d donned one of her old veils and gowns. She was surprised how much she disliked doing so. She’d grown used to pretty things again. But it had seemed wiser not to draw attention to herself at the market. Her mouth quirked. “Although she would have been far more colorfully dressed than I am. With long golden hair—”
The nun shook her head. “I’m sorry, my lady. She was not here.”
Mary tried to smile. But no matter how many times she asked, she couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Thank you.” She handed her a coin. “Please, take this, and remember her in your prayers tonight.”
The woman nodded but seemed to avoid meeting her gaze. Mary was almost out the door when the nun called after her. “I hope you find her, my lady. Someday.”
Mary smiled for real this time, tears glistening in her eyes. “So do I.”
Lost in thought, she wasn’t watching where she was going and nearly collided with a monk outside. He dropped a book he’d been holding—obviously, he hadn’t been looking either—and bent down to pick it up. “I’m sorry, sister—” He startled when he saw her face. Mary saw the flicker of recognition before he smiled. “You’re back!”
A buzz ran up her spine and spread over her skin. Her entire body froze with excitement. “Do you know me, brother?”
He looked surprised again, taking in the details of her face and clothing that he hadn’t before. “You aren’t a nun.”
“But have you seen me before?”
His expression grew troubled. “I thought so, but now I can see that I made a mistake. You look a great deal like a young nun who traveled through here before.”
