The Fifth Knight(86)

“Then I’ll go past.” Edward advanced instead, but Benedict drew his knife.

“No!” Theodosia placed herself between them. “Stop this, stop it now.”

“I beg your pardon, Sister Theodosia,” said Edward. “Since when have you issued orders to me?”

“She’s saving your life, Brother,” said Benedict through gritted teeth. “And given her bravery of the past few days, I’ll wager she can give orders with the best of them.”

Pride fluttered in her chest but died away at Edward’s look of disapproval. “My apologies, Brother.” She bowed her head as of old. “But listen, I implore you. Sir Palmer was with the murderers in the cathedral, no one knows that better than I. He saw the error of his ways almost immediately. Fitzurse had recruited him under false pretenses. Once Sir Palmer realized I too would come to harm, he sacrificed everything, almost his life, to protect me from harm. He has fought with such valor; the four murderers are dead, thanks to him.”

“Is this the truth, Palmer?” said Edward.

Theodosia noted he didn’t give Benedict the dignity of a “Sir.” She could tell by Benedict’s rigid expression he’d noted it too.

“It is.”

No title or politeness in return. Benedict’s dark brown gaze, lit with the passion of fury. Brother Edward’s steely green, with the fire of the righteous. It was like she stood between two thunderclouds that would collide at any moment.

She raised joined hands in pleading. “I beseech you both, now is not the time for strife. You have both been my protectors at different times of my life. You have no quarrel with each other.”

Edward moved first. He swallowed hard and extended his right hand to Benedict. “Sister Theodosia is right. I lost my control when I saw you, which I will be confessing. Please also forgive me for my assault. It was born of rage, which taints my soul.”

Benedict sheathed his dagger and shook Edward’s hand. “Apology accepted, Brother. You weren’t to know the truth.” He let go of Edward and raised a hand to test his jaw. “Faith, you’re a brawler for a man of the cloth. I think you’ve knocked a tooth loose.”

Brother Paulus continued to gape. “Should I fetch the authorities or not, Brother Edward?”

“No, Brother. But please arrange a room for Sir Palmer for tonight.” Edward gave Benedict an approving nod. “It’s the least I can do to thank him for the sister’s safe delivery.” He turned to Theodosia. “Now, would you like to come upstairs? There’s someone waiting who yearns for you without end.”

Theodosia caught her breath in delighted anticipation. “Benedict can come too?”

“Certainly,” said Edward. “He’s one of us now.”

♦ ♦ ♦

Brother Edward advanced up the narrow wooden stairs, each step creaking underfoot, Theodosia eager behind him. Palmer climbed up last, leaving Brother Paulus to mutter and click his tongue about the preparation of another room.

She glanced back at Palmer, her excitement almost touchable in the air.

He was glad for her, he truly was. To find someone you loved when you believed she was lost would be the greatest joy. But he was the one who was losing a loved one. He’d seen it the second Theodosia laid eyes on Edward. Like at Polesworth Abbey, she had snapped back into her old behaviors of shyness, silence, obedience. The behaviors that showed she chose God, not him.

Edward led the way along a corridor, then knocked at a closed door. “Amélie, it is I, Edward.”

“Come in,” said a woman’s voice.

Edward opened the door and ushered Theodosia and Palmer through. Palmer took in a square, plainly furnished room: two beds along one wall, a high wooden settle, a couple of wooden stools, a small oblong table.

“Laeticia?”

He heard Theodosia’s tiny gasp as he looked over to where a middle-aged woman in a dark red dress stood by the tall, narrow window.

Her look fixed only on Theodosia. “Laeticia? Is it really you?”

“Oh, Mama.” Theodosia ran to her. “It is, it is.”

Light-boned like her daughter, Amélie put her small hands on Theodosia’s face, cradled it. “Oh, my dearest, blessed one. Look at you. How you must have suffered.” She broke into sobs. “Those men, those dreadful, sinful men.”

“I am not hurt, Mama.” Theodosia sobbed as hard as her mother, and held her in return. “I’m not, I’m not.”

Palmer understood now why the Abbess had taken convincing that Theodosia was Amélie’s daughter. Though their build was similar, their coloring didn’t match. Theodosia had those gray eyes and dark-blonde hair, while Amélie had deep-blue eyes and the hair under her linen cap was brown. Theodosia’s features were small, delicate. Her mother’s mouth and nose were fuller.