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The Nun's Betrothal
Author: Ida Curtis

Prologue


Aquis, 827

 

“Justin, what are you doing here?” Isabel’s exclamation caused Gilda to whip around to stare at the familiar figure.

“I had a long ride. I wanted to cool off in the pond,” Justin answered his sister as he stared back at her companion. He had seen Gilda without her nun’s habit only once, and he remembered the way the tops of her rounded breasts had been revealed by a low-cut bodice. But her golden hair had always been under a head covering. Now it hung over her shoulders and almost concealed the shape of her breasts under the shift that was still wet from her recent swim.

“We didn’t expect you until tomorrow,” Isabel said as she hurried to stand in front of him and block his view of her friend. She lowered her voice to whisper, “Stop staring at the poor woman!”

“Poor woman? She’s a nun and should know better than to cavort around in her shift.” He grinned at his sister, who was doing little to repair her own state of undress. “At least she seems to be more modest than you are.”

Because he didn’t bother to whisper his reply, Gilda heard every word. She pulled her plain brown gown over her shift and quickly wrapped her hair in a head covering. Justin had a talent for irritating her, and today he was doing an even better job than usual.

Once presentable, Gilda stood up to him as effectively as possible, considering the fact that the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. “Nuns have been known to enjoy a swim from time to time, Justin. A gallant lord would withdraw when he came upon such a scene.”

Ignoring the implication in her words, his eyes roamed over her dark clothing with distaste. “So, you’re still a nun. Taken your final vows yet, Sister Gilda?”

Without answering him, Gilda spoke to Isabel. “I’m going to go ahead and change my clothes. I’ll meet you in the great hall.”

Once Gilda was out of sight, Isabel turned on her brother. “Why are you always so rude to her? I suspect you care for Gilda more than you’re willing to admit.”

Justin shook his head back and forth. “You’re misguided, Isabel. Ever since Gilda and I met a year ago in Aachen, you’ve plotted to bring us together. This latest ploy of naming me godfather and her godmother for your firstborn is your most obvious attempt. You are wasting your time. Gilda and I are completely unsuited in every way, and we’re smart enough to know it.”

“Is that why you can’t take your eyes off her?”

He was disconcerted to realize she spoke the truth. “A man can feel a completely inappropriate attraction to a woman. Don’t read too much into it. And don’t forget your friend is a nun.”

“As you’ve guessed, she hasn’t taken her final vows,” Isabel replied, her eyes sparkling with humor. “I wonder why that’s the first thing you asked her?”

 

As Gilda hurried toward the manor, she thought about Justin’s question. She hadn’t taken her final vows, but she didn’t wish to give him the satisfaction of hearing her admit it. He had implied more than once that she wasn’t serious about her vocation.

Being a nun gave her a degree of freedom that other women only dreamed of. There was no husband or father to obey, no children to take care of, and no manor house to supervise. She had no intention of giving up that freedom.

During the last year, she had been too busy to think about her vows. Helping the women who came to the convent for refuge took all her time and energy. The Abbess of Saint Ives, who encouraged her work, had not pressured her to finalize her pledge to God. But she did plan to do so soon. In any case, what business was it of Justin’s?

Gilda suspected the reason he brought it up each time he saw her was because they had recently been on different sides of a domestic dispute. Justin had defended the right of a nobleman to put aside his errant wife, and she had worked on behalf of the woman. The last time they’d met, he had accused her of using her vocation to influence the bishop they were reporting to. She grinned as she remembered the case and admitted to herself that his accusation was true.

The next afternoon, Gilda stood beside Justin as they became the godparents for the daughter of Isabel and Chetwynd, Gilda’s brother. She stared at the chubby infant who seemed to stare back with large, solemn eyes, and something stirred inside her. At the convent Gilda often helped mothers with their children. At no time had she experienced anything resembling the pull she felt toward little Natalie as she became the child’s godmother. She imagined the strength of her emotion had to do with the fact that she loved both her brother and his wife very much.

When she felt Justin’s elbow jab her shoulder, she glared up at him, then realized that Father Ivo had been speaking to her. She was familiar with the ceremony and nodded her head to show she was aware of her responsibility as godmother. Isabel placed Natalie in her arms. Charmed by the soft warmth of the little bundle, Gilda smiled at the babe who looked up at her with an expression of complete trust.

Justin followed Gilda when she left the church. He thought she looked a little dazed. “Want to go for a walk?” he asked.

She nodded before realizing he must have caught her in a weak moment. The last thing she desired was to be alone with Justin, but she had agreed, and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself by changing her mind. Instead she said, “You didn’t have to poke me so hard. Your elbow is a dangerous weapon.”

“I thought nuns were supposed to pay attention when a priest is speaking.”

“You seem to think you know a lot about nuns. For your information, we’re not that different from other people. We swim in ponds and lose track of what’s going on, just like other women.”

Justin thought about how she had looked soaking wet with the sun shining on her hair and her shift clinging to her body. She was wrong about one thing; she had looked very different from any woman he had ever seen. He shook his head to dislodge the disturbing picture that kept pushing into his thoughts.

“Where are we going, Justin?” she asked, not bothering to disguise her impatience.

He wasn’t sure. His only thought was to get her as far away from the other celebrants as possible, although he couldn’t have said why. When he realized he had headed toward the pond, the scene of the vision he couldn’t shake, he decided it was best to walk elsewhere.

“To the vineyard.” He changed direction as he answered and asked, “Have you always wanted to be a nun?”

The man was obsessed! “No, of course not. I was eight when my father sent me to the Convent at Saint Ives to be educated. When I was twelve, he found me a husband and proposed a match. I pleaded to stay at Saint Ives another two years. The count he wished me to marry had children almost as old as I was, and I didn’t look forward to becoming his wife. Fortunately, my father did not force me to marry.

“By the time I was fourteen, when another match was proposed, I had decided I wished to stay at the convent. I enjoyed my life there. My father, who thought it might be to his advantage to have someone praying for him, agreed.”

They had reached the edge of the valley and stood looking down the hill. Rows of grapevines extended as far as they could see. It seemed natural to stop and view the long, straight lines of green foliage. Gilda dropped gracefully to the ground, pulling her skirt around her raised knees. After a moment’s hesitation, Justin sat beside her.

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