“But…” If she were confined, who would be there for Henry? Her own life didn’t matter so much, but her son still needed an advocate. “What of Henry? He needs a mother…”
“Young Henry can certainly visit you there. That is a fair deal, is it not? You may be healed, and you’ll be safe and well occupied, and you’ll be able to write to your son and accept visits when his time allows. Perhaps he’ll inherit one of my manors close to Basingwerke. Or, even sooner, I could have him fostered by another family in the shire. Wouldn’t that be a happy solution? ”
She stilled. So that was the true bargain. Otto knew her vulnerability all too well. The implied promise was that if she behaved and went along with Otto’s plans, she’d be reunited with Henry in some limited way. Unlike now, when he was kept from her entirely. “I see.”
He added in an annoyed tone, “Have I not done well, to seek out assistance for your singular plight? No one else has done as much for you. Where is your thanks?”
“I thank you most sincerely for your consideration, my lord,” she said in a more obedient tone. “I only wished for more warning.”
“You have it now. By the way, do not speak of any of this to the hirelings.”
“Why not?”
“They are soldiers, and strangers,” Otto said. “They would not understand the complexities of the situation. If any of them asks, tell them merely that it is your ardent desire to take the veil. Do not mention your visions, or the physical afflictions that follow.”
Ah. He was afraid that Sir Rafe and his men would refuse the job if they knew about Angelet’s infirmity beforehand. Of course they would. Who would want to worry about escorting a sick and raving woman through the woods? “Am I to be alone then? Will no one who knows my state be there in case of an emergency?”
“Don’t be simple. You’ll have a female companion for the journey. One of the maids will go.”
Then Otto walked her back to the main table, after warning her to show joy about the decision made for her.
Sir Rafe stood once again as she returned, and waited for her to sit before he also sat.
“Where were you raised, Sir Rafe?” she asked, hoping to steer talk away from herself. “You have the air of a man used to the court.”
“Not at all,” he said. “I was raised at a manor in Shropshire. My environment was no more refined than here.”
“Have you been to court?”
“A few times. But I’ve seen the king more often on campaign…a setting where courtly manners mean little.”
“You’ve seen the king?” she asked, surprised. “King Stephen? In person?”
“Aye, and spoken with him once—on the day I was knighted. He wouldn’t remember me. My liege at the time owed allegiance to Stephen.”
“And now?”
“Now I have no lord,” Sir Rafe said, his eyes distant.
She nodded, though his answer puzzled her. Masterless men were not particularly welcome in the world. It was too chancy to have free lances wandering the land. That was how bandits gained strength, she was told. It was easier to steal and kill than to serve honorably. Yet Rafe seemed an honorable man. What had caused him to leave his lord’s service?
“Is it lonely?” she asked. “To be your own master?”
“Sometimes. But not always. For instance, there are times when I get to dine with a lovely woman.” His smile made her heart flutter, but she pushed the feeling away.
“You are a flirt,” she said, attempting to sound annoyed by it.
“True,” he admitted. “What harm is there in a little flirting?”
“You might break a lady’s heart.”
“I never have before.”
“I doubt that very much. You likely have cut a swath through the country, now full of women lovesick at knowing that you’ve smiled at them once and will never pass by again.”
“Now who’s the flirt?” Rafe asked, his eyes warming. “You look like an innocent, but I suspect you’re more than you seem.”
“I’m a widow,” she said suddenly. She touched the moonstones. “My husband gave me this necklace as a wedding gift.”
