Nell’s dark blue eyes grew huge. “I’m not going back to the convent? But I was to be professed as a nun in six months’ time!”
“You are not going to become a nun. You are now the heiress to the Earl of Lincoln—a far more important position than a mere nun could ever hope to attain.”
Nell felt as if she had been hit over the head. Her brain was utterly scattered. Not going back to the convent? But the convent had been her life!
The earl continued, “I will write to Mother Superior to tell her of my decision. We were wrong to send you there all those years ago. It’s true that God gave us a son, but then He took him away. I don’t owe God a daughter, as well. From now on you will be staying here, with us.”
Nell sat in her sister’s bedroom, surrounded by her sister’s things. The wooden trunks along the wall held Sybilla’s clothes; the coverings on the bed bore Sybilla’s monogram; the hangings on the stone wall were the product of her sister’s paintbrush. When her mother had put her in Sybilla’s room, Nell had assumed it was because all the other bedrooms were full. Now she realized it was because she had been designated to take Sybilla’s place.
But I’m not Sybilla, she thought rebelliously. My life has taken a different path.
She jumped up and went to the window. The busy outer bailey of Bardney lay spread before her, with men coming and going on castle business. Panic fluttered in her stomach.
I don’t belong here. This is not my home anymore.
Mother Superior won’t let me leave.
The thought took root in Nell’s shocked mind. For the past nine years she had dedicated herself to God. To be ripped so abruptly from her sacred purpose and returned to the secular world had stunned her and destroyed her sense of who she was.
Mother Superior would intercede with her father, convince him to leave Nell in the convent, where she had been so happy and so secure.
I must find a way to see Mother Superior.
But Nell was canny enough to realize that her father would not let her return to the convent if he thought she wanted Mother Superior to intercede for her. She had to think of another reason for wanting to return to St. Cecelia’s.
I’ll tell Father that I want to say goodbye to the nuns. Surely he won’t deny me that opportunity. After all, they have been my family for the last nine years.
Her idea had barely formed when the bedroom door opened and her mother came in.
“I don’t want you to wear that wimple at dinner,” Lady Alice said to Nell. “Take it off and let me see what your hair looks like.”
Reluctantly, Nell slowly removed her veil and wimple. Her brown hair was pulled back tight against her skull and fastened in a braid at the nape of her neck. It fell halfway down her back.
“Thank God they didn’t cut it,” her mother said, relieved.
“It was going to be cut when I took my vows,” Nell said.
“Well, you aren’t going to make your vows, so you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
Nell had never once worried about having her hair cut.
She thought she should try to get her mother on her side about visiting Mother Superior.
“Mama,” Nell said, as Lady Alice began to unravel Nell’s hair, “I want to go back to the convent to say goodbye to the nuns. They were very good to me and it would be churlish of me to go away without even a goodbye.”
“Good grief,” her mother said. “How often did you wash your hair? It’s greasy!”
Hair washing had never been of great moment in the convent.
“I don’t know,” Nell said vaguely.
Her mother made sounds of disapproval. “Well, this needs to be washed before you can display it. I had better put the braid back in for now and we can wash it tomorrow.”
“Did you hear me, Mama?” Nell said a little desperately. “I would like to return to the convent to say goodbye.”
Her mother continued to braid Nell’s hair. “Well, I suppose that can be arranged. We’ll have to talk to your father.”
“Can we ask him tonight?”
“We’ll see.”
Lady Alice finished braiding Nell’s hair, then looked into her face. “Your life is going to be very different from what you are used to, Nell, and I realize it may be hard for you at first. I will do my best to help you.”
Nell dropped her eyes. “Thank you, Mama,” she murmured.
“It’s important to you, saying goodbye at the convent?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. I will speak to your father.”
“Thank you, Mama,” Nell said again. “Do you think I can go tomorrow?”
“That will depend upon your father.”
“But you’ll ask him?”
“I said I would,” her mother replied impatiently. She looked at Nell, her head tilted to one side. “I suppose you will have to wear that habit downstairs to supper. I’ll have my ladies alter a few of Sybilla’s tunics tomorrow. At least if we get the hems up you can wear them.”
I don’t want to wear Sybilla’s clothes, Nell thought stubbornly.
“Come along,” her mother said. “It’s time to go downstairs to supper.”
Two
Supper was served for the entire household in the Great Hall. Trestle tables had been set up in the main body of the hall with the high table set close to the fireplace, where in winter it was warmest. At the high table sat the lord and lady of the house, Nell, Lady Alida, Father Clement, the chaplain, and Martin Demas, who was the steward of Bardney Castle. Two squires stood behind the table to serve the great folk dining there.
Nell looked at the roast venison that was reposing upon her trencher of fine white bread and felt her stomach heave. She was far too upset to eat. Her mouth felt dry so she took a small sip of wine. She looked enviously at the lesser folk sitting at the trestle tables who were being served ale.
“Eat something,” her aunt Alida said. “The food is good at Bardney. You should enjoy it.”
Aunt Alida looked as if she enjoyed the food. She was a small plump woman who reminded Nell of a pigeon. Alida had been one of too many girls and her family hadn’t known what to do with her until Alice had said she could come and live with her.
It was not always easy these days for a noble family to find a suitable match for a daughter. Because of the Norman custom that decreed that all of a family’s holdings be passed down to the eldest son, it was only the eldest son in a family who was eligible to marry. Penniless younger sons usually remained bachelors. This left a limited number of potential husbands for the daughters of the nobility, and competition was fierce. There had been several girls in Nell’s convent whose families had not been able to give them a good enough dowry to purchase a husband.
Alida had been fortunate to have a sister who had married well enough to be able to offer her a home. Nell had only a dim memory of Alida from the time that she had lived at home, but her aunt’s smile was friendly and she smiled back.
“I’m just not very hungry, I’m afraid,” she said. “Too much has happened in the last few days. My stomach’s all in a whirl.”
Her mother turned to her. “Aren’t you eating, Nell?”
Nell took a bite of venison and forced it down. “I’m eating, Mama.”
Alice