Forbidden Lady

Melissa did not know why her half brother should be so favoured by their father, while she, his legitimate child, was scorned. She knew that he hated her and she feared him, though his habit of cuffing her about the head had ceased since her fifteenth birthday. He had suddenly realised that she was a beautiful young woman, and that her beauty might be an asset. In the time since then Melissa had lived in dread of the marriage he would make for her. She knew that he would not take her feelings into account and that she would be sold for position or power.

Sometimes she wished that she was not an heiress, for then she might have been allowed to live in obscurity and peace. However, her mother’s father had been the Earl of Somersham and his lands had been left in trust for her when he died earlier that year because he had no other heir. Melissa had begged to be allowed to retire to her lands, but her father had refused her. Until she married she was under his domain, and he meant to use her beauty and wealth to his advantage.

Melissa was sure that had he been able to snatch her lands from her—her father would have done so without compunction. However, the earl had made King Richard the steward of her fortune, and her death would have brought no gain to her father with the estate then becoming the property of the Crown. Even now, her father would have to gain the consent of the King to her marriage. Melissa was praying that if her aunt recovered her health, which she prayed she would, she might petition His Majesty to allow her to retire to the Abbey. She was recalled to the present, as she became aware that the nun was speaking.

‘It is good that you have come, my lady,’ the nun was saying. ‘Mother Abbess has asked for you many times.’

‘I would have come before if I could,’ Melissa said, and glanced at the men who were bringing Owain in. ‘But we were attacked and my kinsman has been injured. Will you tend him, sister? Forgive me, I do not know your name?’

‘I am Sister Cecile,’ the nun told her. ‘The monks will tend to your servant as in this order we are not allowed to care for men, only women, unless given special dispensation by the Bishop—but your kinsman may be admitted and taken to the infirmary. However, the rest of your men must stay outside the gates.’

‘They are the men of…a gallant knight who came to my rescue,’ Melissa said. ‘They will depart once they have done their duty—but I do not intend to leave just yet. How is the Abbess? It is some weeks since I had her letter, but I was not able to make the journey here until now.’

‘A little better this morning,’ Sister Cecile told her with a smile. She waited until Melissa’s women and the men carrying the injured Owain were inside the gates before addressing them. ‘You must take him to the infirmary and leave by that gate. The monks will attend you, good sirs.’

Rob’s men inclined their heads and went off in the direction of the outbuilding she had indicated. Cecile led the way towards the building used by the nuns. A high wall and another heavy gate separated the living quarters of the nuns and the monks, though the chapel was used by both for worship.

‘I thank God that He has spared her,’ Melissa said as Sister Cecile led the way. ‘I feared that I might be too late as she said that she had been gravely ill.’

‘Indeed, when you were sent for we thought she might not last the night,’ Sister Cecile said. ‘But come, lady. I shall take you to her quarters. Your women will be cared for by my sisters and you may see them later.’

Melissa turned to her women, telling them that she would see them in a little while, and then followed Sister Cecile inside the living quarters provided for the Sisters of Mercy. Although it was a warm day in June, Melissa shivered as she went inside the stone building. It had only tiny windows and the sun was shut out by the thickness of the walls. Even wearing her cloak over her silk tunic and surcote, she still felt chilled. Glancing at Sister Cecile, she saw that the nun did not seem to notice the cold, and realised that she was accustomed to the discomfort.

For a moment Melissa was discouraged. Did she truly wish to devote her life to God? Once she had thought that happiness, love and children were her future—but now she knew that all that was at an end. Melissa realised that she had secretly hoped to meet Rob again and that he would declare his love for her and beg her to ride off with him—and she would have gone. His coldness, the scorn in his eyes combined to tell her that he no longer loved her. It was foolish to dream though, because even if he had spirited her away, Lord Whitbread would have taken retribution. Melissa could not live with so many deaths on her conscience, knowing that it had been no idle threat.

The nun had stopped outside a closed door. She knocked and waited for a moment, then looked inside. Putting a finger to her lips, she beckoned Melissa to enter.

‘Are you sleeping, Mother?’ she said softly.

The Abbess opened her eyes, looking at Sister Cecile for a moment and then her gaze transferred to Melissa. Her lips moved and her hands fluttered as if she were in some distress.

‘Melissa, my child,’ she said. ‘I was not sure that your father would let you come.’

‘I could not stay away from you when I knew you were ill,’ Melissa said. ‘My dearest aunt. I have seen you all too seldom these past years, but you are often in my thoughts.’

‘My child…’ The Abbess held out her hand as Melissa approached. ‘I do not know how long I may be spared to this life and I wished to see you once more before I die.’

‘Please do not speak of dying, Aunt.’

‘If my time has come I must accept it,’ the Abbess said. ‘When I entered this place I put away worldly things, but I have loved you from afar, Melissa. I wished to tell you something…’ She glanced at the nun still standing near the door. ‘Thank you, Sister Cecile. You may leave us.’

‘Yes, Mother. You will ring when I am needed?’

‘Of course.’ The Abbess waited until the door closed behind Cecile and then reached beneath her pillow, taking out a paper sealed with wax. She put it into Melissa’s hands. ‘No, do not read it yet, child. It tells you a secret that I vowed never to reveal in life. When I am gone you may read it and take what action you will, but until then promise me that you will abide by my wishes in this matter.’

‘Yes, dearest aunt,’ Melissa said, taking the letter and placing it in the leather pouch that she wore attached to a braided belt at her waist. ‘I shall remember and respect your wish.’

‘I promised that I would never reveal the secret,’ the Abbess said, and her eyes held an expression of distress. ‘But I have feared for you, Melissa. I know…’ She drew in a sucking breath. ‘I must not reveal what I know while I live for I gave my sacred promise. Yet I would not have you at the mercy of that…’ She shook her head and fell back against the pillows, closing her eyes.

‘Aunt!’ Melissa cried, frightened that it was her aunt’s last moment, but after a few seconds the Abbess opened her eyes once more. ‘I love you, Aunt Beatrice.’

‘I am Mother Abbess,’ her aunt reminded her gently. ‘I am not allowed to care for you as I would wish—but I think God will forgive my final sin.’

Melissa looked at her, feeling bewildered and uncertain. If her aunt had guarded her secret for so long it must be important—and yet it seemed to concern her.

‘Is there something I may fetch for you?’ she asked. ‘Some water perhaps?’

‘Sister Cecile will return soon,’ the Abbess said. ‘She will give me my medicine which needs to be measured carefully. Though it heals, it also kills, as do many of the herbs we use in our cures. You have travelled a long way and should rest. Leave me now and we shall meet again tomorrow.’

‘I wish that I could do something for you,’ Melissa said, her throat catching with emotion. ‘But I shall leave you to rest, dearest aunt.’ She turned away from the bed. As she opened the door, she discovered Sister Cecile about to knock. ‘I believe that Mother Abbess wishes to rest,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you would show me to my cell and then return to her?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Sister Cecile said, glancing past her at her superior. ‘She seems to be resting now. I shall return and tend her later.’

Melissa nodded, following the nun from the room. She had not mentioned her mother, nor yet her wish to remain at the Abbey, to her aunt, and she was not sure why. Perhaps she had not wished to distress the sick woman at such a time, and yet she knew that she must do so unless she wished to return to her father’s house. Only the sanctuary of the Abbey could save her from the fate he was planning for her.

Reaching his home, Rob lost no time in entering the house. David, his father’s faithful steward, a man of advanced years, grey in his beard but honest and generous of nature, came hurriedly to greet him and the look in his eyes told him that he was too late.

‘My father?’

‘He died two days ago, Rob,’ David said. ‘Forgive me. I would have sent for you sooner, but he would have it that nothing was wrong.’

Rob felt an overwhelming surge of grief. ‘I should have been here! I should have been with him!’

‘He bid me give you his blessing,’ David said. ‘He told me that he was proud of you because he knew that you would choose the right path in life—and he asked your pardon.’

‘My pardon—for what?’

David’s eyes went to the scar on his face. ‘He blamed himself for what was done to you, because of the quarrel between him and Lord Whitbread.’

‘I have told him that it was none of his doing,’ Rob said. ‘What kind of a man would do this over a piece of land?’

‘I do not believe it was just the land,’ David said. ‘It began long ago, when they were both young…’

Rob frowned, his gaze narrowing. ‘What is this? I have heard nothing of it before. I believed it was that woodland Whitbread coveted?’

‘That came later,’ David said. ‘Do not ask me to tell you what was the source of their anger because I do not know but I believe it may have been a woman.’

‘My mother?’

David shook his head. ‘I can tell you no more. Will you go up and see your father now, Rob? Megan has cared for him, but we waited to bury him until you returned.’

‘You did as you ought,’ Rob said. ‘I shall go up to him now.’

He was thoughtful as he walked up the stairs. What was this quarrel that had led to such hatred between his father and Lord Whitbread? If his father had lived he might have told him. Rob had been young and foolish when he fell in love with the beautiful girl he had seen walking in the meadows by her home. For some weeks he had gone every day to meet her, and their courtship had been sweet—but he had been blinded by his passion and her beauty, for Melissa was obviously as cold and proud as her father.

He would put her from his mind…but what of his heart?

This was no time to be thinking of such things! Rob was angry at himself. He must keep a vigil by his father this night and in the morning Sir Oswald would be laid to rest with all the honour due to the honest, decent man he had been.