Page 10 of The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past #4)
EIGHT
Holystone, Northumberland
Kate stepped out of the barn and stopped in her tracks, mesmerized by the glorious sunrise that painted the sky in breathtaking shades of crimson and gold. The sun shimmered as it made its ascent, its belly skimming the trees as it sailed slowly into the cloudless sky.
Kate watched the sunrise every morning, but she could never take its beauty for granted, especially on a glorious spring morning that heralded a gorgeous day to come.
She balanced the milk pails in her hands and walked toward the refectory.
Milking was her first chore of the day, followed by Prime.
After breakfast, she worked in the stables or the laundry until Sext.
Kate performed most of her chores alone, but she didn’t mind.
Even when she was in the company of the nuns, there was little idle talk.
The Augustine order at Holystone Priory was not a silent one, but the sisters only spoke when something needed to be said or in prayer.
They didn’t require endless verbal intercourse to feel supported, understood, or cared for.
Kate had never felt as accepted and cherished as she had since coming to the priory.
She delivered the milk pails to the kitchen, nodded to the sisters who were busy baking their daily bread, and was about to walk out when the other postulant, Mary, swept into the room.
Mary was a girl who did everything with the maximum noise, even when her tasks were silent in nature.
This morning, her sabots slapped loudly against the stone floor and she huffed as if she’d just run the entire length of the corridor.
Mary’s cheeks were stained with the rosy glow of excitement, and her wide brown eyes shone with curiosity .
“Catherine, the abbess wishes to see you right away,” Mary blurted.
Kate longed to be addressed as Sister Catherine.
She still thought of herself as Kate in her private thoughts, but she couldn’t wait to be officially part of the order, a milestone that would take place in a fortnight when she would take her First Vow.
Mary still had a year to go, but Kate had been at the priory for two years now, and her time as novice was finally at an end.
Perhaps the abbess wished to discuss the vow-taking ceremony.
Kate’s hand subconsciously went to her veil as she made sure no stray hair escaped the postulant’s white headdress, and she followed Mary out of the refectory and toward the chapter house, where the abbess’s office was situated.
She’d only been there once, when her father, Lord Dancy, had delivered her to the convent two years before.
Lord Dancy had not been happy to turn his only daughter over to the nuns, but it was his wife’s greatest wish that Catherine be allowed to take the veil.
Lord Dancy had three fine sons to carry on the family name; he had no need of a daughter to further his interests, Lady Dancy had insisted.
Kate had been fifteen at the time, an age when most girls began to contemplate marriage in earnest. She wasn’t at all sure that she wished to devote her life to God, not when she could marry a fine lord and become the lady of the manor.
The prospect of having her own home, lovely gowns and jewels, and servants to command was an appealing one, but her mother had won her over after a time.
She hadn’t explained her reasoning right away, but when Kate had proved stubborn and wouldn’t entertain her mother’s wish with due seriousness, she had finally revealed the truth and begged Kate to reconsider.
“Kate, you’re very young and na?ve and have romantic notions of marriage, but the reality is quite different.
I was wed to your father when I was fourteen, only a year younger than you are now.
Your father was twenty-one at the time, but he’d had little experience of women—or genteel women, I should say.
He had no notion of how to woo a terrified young bride, nor did he bother to try.
I don’t wish to frighten you, but what happens to a woman in the marriage bed can be brutal, and I wish to spare you the indignities I’ve had to endure,” Lady Dancy had said, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
“I’ve given your father seven children, and I consider myself blessed to have four who survived, but losing a child is not something a woman ever comes to terms with.
I still grieve for your siblings every day, and pray for their immortal souls.
A woman’s life is not one of pleasure and comfort, it’s a life of pain and suffering, no matter her station in life.
I only wish to protect you, my dove. You will be happy with the nuns, and safe.
” Lady Dancy had taken Kate’s hands in hers and smiled gently. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I trust you, Mother,” Kate had replied, her own eyes welling up.
She had only a vague notion of what her mother was talking about, but she’d heard Cook say that her brother Martin took liberties with the female servants and, being the heir to their father’s title and estate, did what he wished, seeing the serfs in his father’s employ as his for the taking.
Kate didn’t understand or ask too many questions.
What Martin did was his business, and if their father didn’t object, then it certainly wasn’t up to her to pass judgment.
It wasn’t until she accidently walked in on Agnes in her travail that she finally understood what Cook meant by “taking liberties,” and what those liberties led to.
Agnes had hidden in the barn when her time came, equipped with only a knife to cut the cord and a blanket to wrap the child in.
She begged Kate to leave, but Kate couldn’t abandon the poor girl, who was only sixteen, when she was frightened and in pain.
Kate sat with Agnes for hours and brought her water to drink when the labor went on and on, leaving Agnes exhausted and weak.
She’d never forget the agony Agnes endured to bring a baby girl into the world, a girl Martin refused to even look at or acknowledge as his own.
Lord Dancy sent Agnes away with nothing but the clothes on her back when she dared to speak the name of the man who’d taken her against her will and got her with child.
He called her a liar and a harlot and threatened to have her whipped if she didn’t clear off.
Kate overheard Cook telling the scullion that Agnes had been found dead in a ramshackle barn three days later.
The child had still been alive but died the same day, having been exposed to the elements for too long.
And a blessing it was too, Cook opined, nodding wisely, since no one’d want the poor mite, especially it being a girl, which was of little use to anyone.
Agnes and the child were buried in a pauper’s grave, with no one to mourn them or say a kind word in their memory since Agnes had been an orphan.
Kate observed Martin for days after Agnes’s death to see if he was aggrieved by the news, but he didn’t seem to care.
Lord Dancy brought in a new serving wench from the village, and Martin laid his claim to her, telling his brothers to not even look at the new girl until he tired of her.
Kate hoped that Geoffrey and Robert would chastise Martin for Agnes’s death, but they didn’t say a word, at least not within her hearing.
Kate didn’t expect much from Robert, who was sixteen and worshipped his older brother, but she had hoped Geoffrey would come to Agnes’s defense.
At eighteen, Geoffrey was the kindest of her brothers, and the most affectionate toward her.
He had entertained hopes of taking the Holy Orders from an early age, but their father repeatedly refused his request. Geoffrey had brought up the subject again after Agnes’s death, appalled by his father’s refusal to take responsibility for his son’s disgraceful behavior and see to the welfare of Agnes and her child.
“We’ve enough priests in this country,” Lord Dancy snapped.
“’Tis not natural for a man to deny his needs.
You’ll do much better to make a fine marriage and advance the interests of your family.
Once I find a suitable bride for Martin, it’ll be your turn next.
You’ll not speak of this foolishness again, boy. Not ever.”
Kate hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but now that she was of marriageable age, she longed to know what was happening behind closed doors. Decisions were being made and alliances forged, and sooner or later it would be her turn, and she wished to be prepared.
Kate followed Geoffrey to the stables after his conversation with their father. She’d expected Geoffrey to look upset, but he seemed his usual self when she approached him.
“What are you doing here, Katie? This is hardly the weather for riding.”
A heavy snow had been falling for hours, blanketing the muck in the yard with a pristine quilt of pure white as an unnatural hush had settled over the outbuildings.
Everyone had hunkered down to wait out the storm, even the dogs, who were warm and snug in the kennel.
Geoffrey wasn’t going to ride either. He liked to go to the stables to be alone.
They had grooms to take care of the horses, but Geoffrey enjoyed looking after his own horse, and spent hours brushing it down and exercising it when the weather was fine.
“I wished to speak to you,” Kate said.
“You could have spoken to me indoors.”
“I wanted to speak to you privately.”
“And what private business do you have, little lady?” Geoffrey asked, smiling down at her.