Page 117 of The Daughters of Avalon
“You’ve been gone a long time, Giles. Not everything is as it was. And nevertheless, I’d not steer you wrongly.”
Wilhelm’s tone was resentful, and yet, Giles didn’t answer, despite that Rosalynde sensed there was a pointed message in his brother’s statement. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep? If she hadn’t so much on her mind, Wilhelm’s rambling would have had the same numbing effect on her.
At last, she decided that the time had arrived—nowbefore she lost her nerve.
If she hurried, she could still find a good place to conceal herself before the sun set.
Scooping up her Book, she got up, belly roiling, though not over the meal she’d so ravenously consumed.
Without a word, she took thegrimoireand bounded away, abandoning the cloak. She didn’t want them to suspect, and she didn’t need the cloak anyway. She’d only taken it because Arwynhad given it to her and it would be easy enough to cast another warming spell once she was safely away.
Chapter
Seventeen
Alas, nothing ever happened quite as one expected. It was Wilhelm, not Giles, who sprang to his feet to follow. “Sister!” he called out, and Rosalynde winced, pretending not to hear him. He shouted a little louder, and she feared he might wake his brother. “Sister, wait!”
Goddess please!
Was she never going to be away?
Realizing that she couldn’t possibly outrun the man, she halted, turning to face the lout, pasting a serene smile on her face, and raising the Book to hide her quickened breath. “What may I do for you, Wilhelm?”
Cheeks flushing, the big man cast a nervous glance toward their camp, where his brother remained seated by the fire, still sleeping, judging by his repose.
“I beg pardon if I have offended,” he said, and Rose softened at the pleading quality of his voice.
“How can I help you?”
“I should like to confess my sins,” he said, his face twisting with what appeared to be regret—or perhaps it was only indigestion. Rosalynde couldn’t tell. She had a grumble in her belly herself.
“My lord, I am no priest,” she protested.
He smiled awkwardly. “And I am no lord—baseborn,” he said sheepishly, and then he stood, scratching his head, then gesturing to her book. “In truth, I wouldst simply pray… if you might. ’Tis been an age since I have done so, and I am not certain God will listen.”
“God always listens,” she reassured him.
Smiling gratefully, he nevertheless glanced back toward their camp, then swept out a hand, gesturing nervously. “Shall we walk apart?”
With a sigh, Rosalynde peered back at Giles, feeling her opportunity slipping away. Even now, the sun was lowering.
“Please, Sister,” he begged, and put a hand beneath her elbow to lead her away from Giles, deeper into the woods. “You see… I fear I’ve dishonored my father by dishonoring my brother…”
Rosalynde felt like a lamb being led to her slaughter and she sorely hoped his God would be listening, because she hadn’t any notion how to help this man. She was very glad her grimace remained hidden behind her veil. Her sister Elspeth had been far more dutiful at her prayers. More than not, Rosalynde had spent her days at the priory dreaming of new adventures, and if, in truth, she knew the hours of prayer, it was only so she could better plan when she could escape into the woods to forage. “Alas, I love a lady my brother was promised to…”
Rosalynde’s brow furrowed, curiosity getting the best of her. “Lady Ayleth?” she asked, and that same prickle of envy reared unexpectedly.
Wilhelm lifted a bushy black brow. “Perchance you knew her?”
Rose shook her head. “Nay, I but guessed. I heard you speaking of the lady on the road and I wondered who she was. So she and Giles must have been betrothed?”
“Never,” he said. “Though I am quite certain it disappointed her uncle when my brother left for the seminary.” He looked even more discomforted, scratching his head, leading her farther afield. “You see, what ails me is that Ayleth loved my brother, and even now that she’s gone, I envy him her love—particularly so, because it seems to me that Giles never cared.”
Rosalynde flicked a finger across the vellum, feeling oddly defensive over Giles and his honor.
“Wilhelm, envy is a sin, love is not,” she explained, telling him what she thought the Goddess might want him to know. “But you cannot fault yourself for loving Lady Ayleth. In truth, you cannot force a heart to love where it should any more than you may force it to love where it should not. And, besides, my Lord Gilesmusthave cared for the lady; did he not say he would give alms for her soul?”
In answer, Wilhelm peered into the treetops, mayhap supplicating for strength. “Aye, and, truly, it does soothe my soul to know he offers alms, though… I confess… it was all I could do not to weep blood tears when King Stephen offered my brother an earldom and Lady Seren Pendragon to wed.”
