Page 112 of The Forsaken
“Bishop Bridewell is a well-respected member of the diocese. He’s always taken a hard line on sin, particularly carnal sin, preaching eternal damnation, and threatening his parishioners with the fires of hell should they commit the slightest transgression. He doesn’t believe in repentance or forgiveness, only punishment and the everlasting wrath of a vengeful God.”
“Sounds like the type of clergyman we should avoid at all cost, given our history.” Kate tried to make a joke, but her voice sounded small and frightened. She was utterly baffled by Guy’s strange errand.
“I was hoping to learn something of the bishop, and I did. It would appear that the very pious Bishop Bridewell, a man of seventy who’s devoted his life to the Church, regularly visits acertain woman at her lodgings, and arrives theresanshis clerical robes.”
“Who is she?” Kate asked, intrigued.
“She’s his mistress, and has been for the past decade, during which time she bore the bishop three children. I’ve no doubt there were others before her. He’s sired half the bastards in Newcastle.”
“What’s this to do with us?”
Guy shook his head and smiled at Kate’s naiveté. “Kate, if Hugh agrees to an annulment, it’ll be that much easier to obtain if we have a bishop who’s willing to see it through. And what would make a geriatric bishop cooperate short of a threat to his livelihood and reputation?”
Kate stared at him. This wasn’t the Guy she knew. This man was ruthless and calculating, ready to exploit someone’s weakness for his own gain. This was also a man who loved her and was willing to go to any lengths to free her from her marriage to Hugh. What Guy had done was an act of devotion, and a declaration of love for her and their child. He would never blackmail someone for money or power, only for love.
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Deadly. I won’t leave you ever again, Kate.”
Her eyes flew to the door as it opened to reveal Joan holding a basket of clean linen on her hip.
“Guy, I thought I saw ye sneaking about. Come to visit yer devoted sister-in-law, have ye?” Joan gave them both an acid stare before stowing the clean garments in the chest at the foot of the bed and departing.
“Do you think she overheard?” Kate said as the door closed behind Joan.
“Her hearing’s not what it used to be. She’s getting on in years,” Guy observed. He dismissed Joan and returned to the earlier topic. “Kate, I need to know that you agree before I confront Hugh. No sense poking a hornet’s nest and getting stung if you won’t agree to go through with it.”
Kate lowered her eyes, unable to bear the intensity of Guy’s gaze. Annulling her marriage, which was legal and valid, went against everything she believed in, but it might be her only chance at happiness. She doubted Hugh would agree, but if he did, she and Guy could marry and be a family. They could live in love and understanding and raise their children together. They could be happy. Even thinking along those lines made Kate cringe with guilt. What right did she have to ask for happiness? And what would be the price of that happiness? Hugh would be humiliated and ridiculed, and Kate would have to live with her deceit for the rest of her days. The world might believe that the marriage hadn’t been valid, but she’d know the truth. Was she ready to risk her soul for a future that might never be?
Kate’s hand went to her belly. Deep inside, a little person slumbered, waiting to be born, oblivious to all the strife its very existence had caused. Guy would never have conceived of blackmailing a bishop of the Church if it weren’t for Kate’s pregnancy. Or perhaps he would. He wasn’t a man to lurk in the shadows and pick crumbs from his brother’s table. Guy was willing to fight for what he wanted, and he was daring her to be brave and honest and do the same.
“All right. I agree,” Kate whispered, shocked by her own boldness. “When will you speak to Hugh?”
“Tonight.”
“No, please. Not yet. I need a little time to come to terms with what we’re about to do. Wait until after the Feast of Ascension.”
Guy looked disappointed but nodded in agreement. “All right. If that will make it easier for you.”
SEVENTY
MAY 1465
Berwick-Upon-Tweed, Northumberland
Kate trudged miserably up the stairs, stopping every few steps to catch her breath. She’d felt a little better the past few days, but the nausea had come back with a vengeance this afternoon, reminding her that she wasn’t over the worst of the sickness yet. Joan had insisted she remain behind in bed and rest, for the child’s sake, but Kate had wished to participate in the celebration. The Feast of Ascension was one of her favorite feast days as it was usually marked by picnics held on hilltops. It was traditional to eat some sort of fowl, to symbolize the flight of Jesus to the heavens, and whatever fruit was to hand. The fruit was blessed by the priest after the Memento of the Dead.
Bless, O Lord, these new fruits of the vine which Thou hast brought to maturity by the dew of heaven, by plentiful rains and by tranquil and favorable weather. Thou hast given us this fruit for our use that we may receive it with thanks in the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ.
The blessing referred more to grapes, but as grapes were hard to come by in Northumberland, they had to do with the oranges that Hugh had managed to procure for the occasion. There had been only three, and they’d had to share, but the few slivers of the juicy fruit were ambrosia. Kate had devoured her share, her body starved for nutrients after months of monotonous winter food. Perhaps it was the orange that brought on this infernal sickness again, or perhaps it was fear of what was to come. Guy meant to speak to Hugh this night, and demand that he release Kate from their marriage. He’d been simmering since returning from Newcastle, and if she didn’t give him leave to act, his temper would boil over.
As Kate had sat on a blanket overlooking the swift-flowing river and the rolling hills beyond, she had tried to calm herself by recalling the feasts of her childhood, when she’d spent the day with her parents and brothers, enjoying the fine spring weather after months of snow and rain. She could hardly remember the church services, or the food her mother had Cook prepare for their feasts, but she remembered the mood of those picnics. She’d felt safe and happy, delighted by the carefree banter between her parents and the camaraderie of her brothers. How life had changed since those sunny days.
Kate finally reached her chamber, kicked off her shoes, and crawled into bed. The room was pleasantly cool, and the dim confines of the bed were a welcome change from the sunshine outside. She closed her eyes and rested her hand on her growing belly, willing the babe inside to make itself known. She’d felt it for the first time only about a week ago, a gentle flutter that came and went, hardly noticeable at first, but impossible to ignore once she’d realized what it must be. It took a few minutes now, but eventually she felt a bump against her hand, like that of a kicking foot. Could it be a foot? Or an elbow?
Kate sighed miserably. This should have been a happy time, even with the persistent sickness, but the thought of what would happen in a few short hours left her insides lurching with fear. She wanted to be with Guy more than anything, to live in harmony and raise their child in love, but Hugh wouldn’t take this lightly, nor would the Church. She and Guy had sinned, and now they wanted to legalize their sin and thwart the laws of God. It felt wrong. Kate tried to explain her fears to Guy when he’d followed her to the chapel that morning, but he brushed her reservations aside, determined to see this through.
“Don’t you love me?” Guy had demanded when Kate broached the subject. “Don’t you want to leave Hugh and be free to follow your heart for once in your life?”
