To The Castle. Joan Wolf
from the window, and she herself set to work on her daughter. It was as if she thought she could scour all the years in the convent away from Nell if she scrubbed hard enough. Her hair was washed and rinsed three times before Lady Alice was satisfied.
The castle ladies had done a hasty job of taking up and taking in one of Sybilla’s gowns, and Lady Alice dressed Nell in it once she had come out of the bath. Then her hair was toweled briskly and braided into two long plaits that would fall over her shoulders when they had completely dried.
“Take a look,” Lady Alice said, handing Nell the first mirror she had ever seen. Nell peered in it cautiously, a little afraid of what she was going to find.
A girl with large, wary, dark blue eyes looked back at her. She had delicate eyebrows and a small, straight nose. There was color from the bath in her cheeks and her lips.
I’m pretty, Nell thought, and tried to squash the pleasure she felt at this discovery. Mother Margaret would say that worldly looks were not important and certainly were no measure of the worth of a person.
“You’re a very pretty girl, my dear,” Lady Alida said.
“Yes, you are,” Lady Alice agreed. “You don’t look like Sybilla, you look more like your grandmother—my mother. She was small and delicate, like you. But she ran a great household and raised a family at the same time, and so will you, Nell.”
I’m not Sybilla, even though I am wearing her dress, Nell thought, clenching her teeth. I’m Nell. I was brought up in a convent. I know nothing of how to run a great household. I don’t want to be married. I don’t want to run a great household. I want to go home.
But the convent was closed to her. As miserable as it made her, she was going to have to remain here at Bardney.
Over the next week, Nell attended meals and helped her mother and the ladies sew her new wardrobe. In the evenings she sat in front of the fire and listened to one of the squires play the lute. Outwardly she was docile and obedient to her parents, but inside she was grieving for the loss of her old life, for the loss of Sister Helen. At night she would kneel on the wooden floor of her room to say her prayers and ask the Lord to send her back to St. Cecelia’s. Then, almost as an afterthought, she would pray dutifully, If it is your will that I stay here, Lord, help me to learn to love my mother and my father. Help me to be a good daughter and to do good works in this strange place.
Then she would get into bed, loneliness engulfing her heart, and cry herself to sleep.
Ten days after Nell’s arrival at Bardney, the Earl of Lincoln’s usher approached the high table to tell the earl that his messenger had returned from Wiltshire with a reply.
“Send him to me,” the earl said, returning the piece of meat he had been about to eat back to his trencher. Nell, who was sitting between her mother and her aunt, heard the usher’s announcement but didn’t think much of it. She chewed slowly on her beef and didn’t notice the way her mother had stiffened.
The messenger came into the hall still wearing his spurs and carrying his helmet under one arm. He threaded his way between the trestle tables where the household was dining until he stood in front of Lord Raoul. He bowed his head. “My lord,” he said, “I bring you the reply to your missive. The Earl of Wiltshire bade me give it directly into your hand.”
“Thank you, Waldo,” the earl replied and took the rolled parchment from his messenger’s hand. “Sit you down and have some dinner.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Nell watched as the messenger found an empty place at one of the tables. He was greeted genially by his fellow diners, and a servant came scurrying with a trencher for him to put his meat upon. Another servant poured him some ale.
Nell looked back at her plate. There was so much meat served in her father’s house! In the convent, meat had been a luxury. Fish had been the food of choice, either caught fresh from the river or salted and dried.
Conversation at the high table was suspended while the earl read his letter. Then he rolled it up again and put it on the table next to his wineglass. He turned to his wife.
“All is well,” he said. “They want to proceed as quickly as possible.”
Lady Alice glanced at Nell. “It might be wise to wait a little, my lord.”
The earl shook his head. “This is a great matter, not something to be delayed because of a girl’s sensibilities. I will write to Lord William that we will be ready to receive him in two weeks’ time.”
Lady Alice did not reply.
“You haven’t seen the falcons yet, Nell,” Alida said brightly to Nell. “After dinner why don’t you come with me to look at them?”
Nell looked at her aunt. “That would be nice, Aunt Alida. Thank you.”
There was a smile on Lord Raoul’s lips. “A little more wine here, if you please,” he called heartily. One of the squires who was standing behind the table hastened forward with the wine for his lord.
Lord Raoul took a deep swallow, then he turned to Nell. “Never mind the falcons. Your mother and I want to talk to you after dinner, Nell. You will attend us in the family solar.”
“Yes, Father,” Nell said with some surprise. Her father had paid very little attention to her since she had come home.
When dinner was finished, mother, father and daughter climbed the stairs to the tower room that was the private family solar. The room was well furnished and comfortable, with a charcoal brazier for heat in the winter. The earl sat in a wide, carved, high-backed chair and his wife sat beside him. Her father waved Nell to a third chair that faced his. The chair was so high that Nell’s feet would not reach the ground, so she placed them on the embroidered footstool that was in front of it.
The earl began. “Nell, have you heard that your sister was betrothed to the grandson and heir of the Earl of Wiltshire?”
Nell clasped her hands tensely in her lap. She sensed that something big was forthcoming. “No, my lord,” she replied. “I did not know that.”
“The earldom of Wiltshire is very large,” her father explained. “And once the holdings of Wiltshire are combined with the holdings of Lincoln…Well, the man who holds that combined title will be almost as powerful as the king. So you can see that this marriage is a great thing for our house.”
Nell’s heart had begun to thud. She glanced at her mother. The countess was looking at her with an expression of pity in her eyes. Terror struck Nell’s heart. She thought she knew what was coming.
The earl continued on. “Sybilla’s death was a blow to my hopes, but fortunately I have another daughter. I wrote to the Earl of Wiltshire and today I have had his response. He is willing to see you wed to his grandson in place of Sybilla.”
Nell felt herself grow icy cold. She tried to speak and found she could not.
Her father said, “Earl William wants to see this marriage accomplished as soon as possible. I am going to write to tell him that we will be ready to receive him in two weeks’ time, on the date we set for the original wedding.”
“Her wardrobe will not be ready, my lord,” her mother interjected. “Surely we can put it off for a month at least.”
“That is not possible,” the earl said. “You were making clothes for Sybilla. Nell can wear those.”
Nell turned to her mother. “Mama, I am not ready to get married!”
Her mother said softly, “I am sorry this must come upon you so quickly, Nell. But you are the daughter of a great house. You must do your duty, I’m afraid.”
Nell could feel herself trembling. “You didn’t care about me when I was a child—you sent me away to the convent and forgot about me.” Her voice shook with anger. “And now you talk to me about my duty to my house? My duty is to God.”
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