Page 82 of The Herald's Heart
He’d seek Amis if his friend hadn’t left for court weeks ago carrying messages from Talon to the king and a letter that Larkin wanted sent. The replies could arrive anytime. Talon prayed he would receive the king’s response before Larkin left Hawksedge. That way, he would at least be able to assure her that Edward recognized her as Lady Rosham. With royal acknowledgement in hand, she could then petition the archbishop for annulment of her marriage, if that is what she desired. He wished he knew what she wanted. Were it possible, he’d give it her along with his undying love. But that oath stood in his way, and he could give her nothing but the chance to regain the name and home the earl and Le Hourde had stolen from her.
He shook his head, feeling as lost and aimless as his horse’s ramblings had been in the past moments. He raised his head to take his bearings and saw the abbey rising beyond the hill. Mother Clement would help. She had saved Larkin’s life and given wise counsel when suspicion for the earl’s murder fell on Larkin. Could she advise him on how to heal his heart?
It wouldn’t hurt to try. Afterward, he might seek the anchoress’s blessing on his pilgrimage.
That small spark of hope urged him onward. He arrived at the abbey as Mother Clement was leaving.
“Lady Abbess, I beg speech with you,” Talon said from atop his horse, not willing to give her a chance to refuse.
She cast him a brief look, then hurried onward. “I cannot.”
“But I am desperate.” He sent his mount to walk beside her.
“You may wait if you wish, but Dame Margery’s need is desperate as well. Moreso, I suspect, since she is dying.”
“The anchoress is dying?”
“I have medicines for her.” The abbess indicated the basket on her arm. “However, I do not believe they will cure anything but the pain she suffers.”
Talon dismounted and quickly caught up with Mother Clement on foot. “I am sorry to hear that. For I had intended to seek her blessing as the villagers do. She will be missed.”
Mother Cement nodded. “Come with me then. When I have made her as comfortable as possible, we will see if she can speak with you.”
As they walked, Talon explained his problem to the abbess.
“Why do you not seek dispensation from your oath of the archbishop?”
“Larkin suggested that.”
“She is an intelligent young lady. You should listen to her.”
“Even did I seek and receive dispensation, Larkin would still be my stepmother. God and the church forbid anything more than friendship between us.”
“Hmmm. Her marriage could easily be annulled. I do not believe it was ever consummated.”
He knew it had not been. Larkin had gifted him her maidenhead along with her passion. But he would not tell anyone, though he suspected the abbess might understand. “Since there is no proof that she is Lady Larkin Rosham, Countess of Hawksedge, any petition would be rejected. Even if the proof existed, I would not ask her to petition for annulment. Her claim to Rosewood Castle is stronger if she remains Countess of Hawksedge.”
“And why does the strength of her claim to Rosewood Castle prevent you from confessing your love to her?”
He goggled at the abbess. “I never said I loved her.”
The woman smiled. “No, you did not. Not to me, and I suspect not to Larkin. Do you not think she deserves to know your feelings? Do you not think you should work together to gain a life of joy instead of going separately into misery? She deserves to have your trust that she will ask no more of you than you ask of her. And God will not thank you for misguided devotion that results from rejecting the gifts he has given you.”
“But, you don’t understand.”
Mother Clement held up her hand; they arrived at the anchorage. “You must wait to explain yourself, for Dame Margery deserves all my attention now.”
The abbess produced a large key from a pocket within her habit. Using the key, she unlocked the chain that kept the anchorage door closed and entombed Dame Margery.
“Are you allowed to go within?”
“To aid her passing from this world, yes. Wait here.”
He heard the rise and fall of the women’s voices as time passed, but eventually the anchoress spoke from the window. He could see Mother Clement beside her, an arm around Dame Margery’s shoulder, offering support.
“What troubles you, my son?” The anchoress’s voice was weak and raspy.
Talon stared for some time at the cloudy eyes that saw the terrifying and the beautiful in his face. He marveled at the serene expression that, in the past, had become a rictus of fear at the sight of him.
