Page 26 of The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past #4)

TWENTY

Belford, Northumberland

Kate drew up her legs and rested her forehead on her knees as hot tears spilled down her cheeks.

She had no notion of what to do. Her father had evicted her and Hugh had abandoned her at the first opportunity, having taken her innocence and her honor.

He’d spoken to her of marriage to silence her protests, thinking that in her gratitude she wouldn’t object to him bedding her.

He hadn’t been rough or abusive, as her mother had predicted, but he had taken what he wanted all the same, sugarcoating his actions with words of love and devotion.

His ardor had lasted only as long as it took him to destroy any future prospects she might have.

He was probably halfway to Berwick by now, the promises of last night forgotten.

Now she’d have to fend for herself, but she had nothing of value, save her rosary, and she’d never part with it, not for all the world.

Kate momentarily considered returning to the priory, but that was no longer an option, not when her thighs were smeared with Hugh’s seed.

More than anything in the world, she wanted her mother, but the woman who’d loved and cherished her was locked in a prison of suffering, unable to leave her sickbed.

Anne would have reasoned with her husband last night and convinced him that Kate was innocent of any wrongdoing, but now there was no one left to champion her, not even the abbess.

She was completely on her own and utterly bereft.

Kate angrily wiped the tears with her sleeve and looked around.

She had to keep a cool head. The first thing she had to do was remove all traces of Hugh from her body.

She felt disgusted and ashamed, and soiled.

The water in the pitcher was cold, but Kate didn’t mind.

At the priory, they always washed with cold water, even on the most frigid days of the year.

She found a linen towel and went to work, starting with her hands and face and moving downward.

She grimaced with distaste when she washed between her legs and hastened to complete the task.

Once clean, she dressed and plaited her hair.

She didn’t even have a hairbrush, or a spare chemise.

The only thing she had in the world was Marie de Rosel’s gown and the gray cloak she’d been issued at the priory.

She also had her horse, if Hugh hadn’t taken it.

Kate stilled when a soft knock sounded on the door. “Come,” she called. A dark-haired girl of about eleven poked her head in the door.

“I hope I haven’t disturbed ye, me lady, but Master de Rosel bid me bring ye something to break yer fast when the church bell struck the hour.”

“Thank you,” Kate said and beckoned the girl into the room.

The girl set a plate of bread and cheese on a small table and placed a cup of small ale beside it, then curtsied awkwardly.

“When did Master de Rosel go out?” Kate asked.

“’Bout an hour since. He left this for ye,” the girl added, taking a note from her pocket. She’d clearly forgotten all about the note and would have walked off with it had Kate not enquired about Hugh.

Kate unfolded the small square of paper. Hugh’s handwriting was elegant, but his message brief.

Dearest Catherine,

Gone to the Grange to speak to your father. Will return before noon. Be ready to leave.

Your devoted Hugh

The girl looked on with interest as Kate read the note and stowed it in the pocket of her gown after refolding it .

“Bad news, me lady?” she asked, her eyes dancing with curiosity. She probably would have liked nothing more than to stay for a little chat to avoid whatever duties awaited her downstairs, but Kate wasn’t about to discuss her situation with a child, no matter how much she longed to talk to someone.

“No. All’s well.”

“I’ll leave ye to it then,” the girl said, and backed out of the room.

Kate sat down and took a sip of the bitter ale.

No, it wasn’t bad news that Hugh hadn’t deserted her, but she wasn’t convinced it was good news either.

At this stage, she wasn’t sure what would constitute good news.

Her life was irrevocably altered, and now that she was no longer at the priory she needed the protection of a man, be it her father or a husband.

A woman on her own was helpless and vulnerable, and ultimately doomed to a life of poverty and deprivation.

The only thing Kate was certain of was that she’d never resort to whoring to survive.

So she either had to go begging to her father—who wasn’t a forgiving man by nature, so appealing to him would be pointless given his harsh treatment of her—or agree to marry Hugh, if he still wanted her.

Kate finished her meal, grabbed her cloak, and headed for the door.

She had some time before Hugh returned, so she would go to church.

She needed guidance, and since she couldn’t talk to her own mother or the abbess, she would speak to Father Phillip, who’d known her since she was born.

Father Phillip had baptized her and watched her grow.

He would be kind, understanding, and truthful.

Kate walked the short distance to All Saints’ and pushed open the heavy door.

The interior of the church was dim and cool, and for a second Kate thought it was empty, but then she saw Father Phillip emerge from the apse and head toward her down the nave.

Father Phillip was in his sixties, gaunt, stooped, and gray.

He walked slowly, as if in pain, but when he recognized her, his eyes lit with the warmth Kate had longed to see in the eyes of her own father, and a smile of welcome lit up his weathered face .

“Lady Catherine, I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said as he approached her. “It’s a tragedy to lose one child, but three is beyond words. Your parents must be beside themselves with grief. I’ve yet to see either of them.”

“My mother’s taken ill, and my father has been tending to her.”

“Poor lady. She must be devastated. And your lord father, of course. What a blow,” Father Phillip said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I will call on them later today to offer whatever comfort I can.”

“I’m sure they’d be most grateful, Father.”

“You seem in need of comfort yourself,” Father Phillip said as he beckoned Kate toward the front pew.

“Come, sit, my lady.” Father Phillip paused while a hacking cough wracked his thin frame for several minutes and left him exhausted and trembling.

His hand shook slightly when he mopped his brow with a much-used linen handkerchief.

“Are you ill, Father? Is there anything I can do to help?” Kate asked. “Should I fetch some water?”

“Thank you, child. I’m afraid it will take more than water to restore my health. I’ve written to the bishop. ’Tis only fair to give him time to find a replacement.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Kate asked. Father Phillip had been at All Saints’ since he was a young man, fresh out of the seminary.

The old priest chuckled, which turned into another coughing fit. “I’m going to stay right here at All Saints’. I will be buried next to Father Paul, who was the priest here before me. He was a good man, and taught me much. I still miss him.”

Kate turned away for a moment to hide her tears. Father Phillip was dying, but he seemed accepting of his fate, and not at all bitter or frightened .

“Lady Catherine, don’t grieve for me. I’ve had a long and happy life. I don’t fear death. ’Tis but a stepping stone to the afterlife, and it will be glorious; I know it.”

“Do you think my brothers are in Heaven, Father?” Kate asked, wondering if Martin had ever confessed his sins to Father Phillip. He had much to answer for, but he had died fighting for his king. Surely that earned him some measure of forgiveness.

“I’m sure they are, my dear,” Father Phillip assured her. “Now, tell me about yourself. Are you back from the priory for good? Have you sacrificed your own desires to support your parents at this difficult time?”

Kate opened her mouth to speak, but a desperate sob tore from her chest. She hadn’t meant to give in to self-pity, but for some reason, Father Phillip’s kindness undid her.

“Father, I grieve for my brothers, and I’m sick with worry for my dear mother,” Kate admitted reluctantly, “but today my grief is also for myself.” She hung her head in shame, but Father Phillip patted her hand in a gesture of support.

“You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, Lady Catherine. Your brothers are beyond caring about the physical world, and your dear mother is in the hands of God. Now, tell me what’s troubling you.”

“Father, a week ago I was at the priory, preparing to take my vows. I was happy and at peace with the choice I’d made.

I knew exactly what my life would be like, and I was eager to devote myself to the service of our Lord.

Since then, I have lost not only my brothers, but my parents as well, and I’m about to marry a man whose motives I have reason to question. I feel as if God has forsaken me.”

Father Phillip shook his head, his eyes full of sympathy.

“My dear Lady Catherine, the Lord has not forsaken you. He loves you, and values you, which is why He’s sending you where you’re needed most, as He did with His own beloved son.

Perhaps you would have served Him faithfully at the priory, but He clearly has a different plan for you.

He has chosen this new path for you, and you must follow it, for you don’t know where it’ll lead.

This man you are to marry, what has he done to make you mistrust him? ”

“I think he manipulated the situation to his own advantage to ensure an outcome he’d hoped for, and has greatly angered my father.” Kate decided not to elaborate on exactly what her father now believed, too ashamed to speak the words in the house of God.

Father Phillip smiled kindly. “He wouldn’t be the first man to do that, certainly. Did he deceive you?”