Theodosia matched Benedict’s look of surprise. For a terrible second, she thought she might laugh, as much at her late father’s wild actions as at the idea of Benedict behaving so. She coughed. “Did you take him seriously, Mama?”
Amélie considered her for a moment. “Of course I did. His behavior was unorthodox, but there was no wrong in it. Are you saying otherwise?”
Benedict rescued her. “Pray go on, Sister Amélie. I think Theodosia relives your own surprise.”
“I brought my young man home,” said Amélie. “My parents were greatly relieved to see me and, once they had heard his story, my young man too. Mama had the servants prepare him a room so he could be brought back to health. Our house wasn’t a grand hall, only a farmhouse, but it was very spacious and well appointed. My stranger left after a couple of days, with a borrowed horse.”
“Then I was born out of wedlock?” Theodosia could scarce get the words out.
High spots of color pinked her mother’s cheeks. “How dare you suggest that I would commit such a sin? Have you lost your reason, Laeticia?”
Theodosia clamped her hands together. “Theodosia.”
Amélie’s nostrils flared. “Well, now I see why your vocation eludes you, with sinful thoughts ready in your mind.” Straight on the settle before, she sat even straighter. “My virtue was never in question. Unlike yours has been, over the last couple of weeks, with you in the company of sinful men.”
Now it was Theodosia’s turn to color. She couldn’t meet Benedict’s eye.
“My young man came back, time after time,” continued Amélie. “Always seeking my hand, pressing me to take him, begging my father to influence me. I grew to love him and his noble love. So eventually, I told him yes. When we were promised to each other before God, it was the happiest day of my life. Then you, Laeticia, were born the next time the harvests came round. We named you as joy, happiness, for that was what we had: noble, blessed love.”
An odd expression formed on Benedict’s face. “How long were you together, Sister Amélie?”
“Only a year.” Amélie’s eyes filled with sudden tears. “Then he had to go.”
“He died,” said Theodosia, keen for the truth.
“No.” Slow tears rolled down her mother’s face. “He had to go. For as a nobleman, he was pressed to other duties.”
“I think I see,” said Benedict.
“I do not,” said Theodosia, bewildered, looking from one to another. “You are a widow, Mama.”
Amélie brought a hand to her brow. “Oh, this is so hard.”
“You’re a widow now, but only since the close of the year,” said Benedict. “Your husband was a nobleman. Called to another duty. Couldn’t give his name to his family.” He met Theodosia’s eyes with a look of triumph before he addressed Amélie once more. “He was Thomas Becket, wasn’t he, Sister?”
Theodosia’s grasped her mother’s hands as if in a vise. “Oh, Mama. Is it true? My own dear Thomas, kindness himself to me always.” Her own tears threatened. “Laying his life down for both of us, just like a loving father would do.”
Amélie pulled her hands away, shaking her head. “No, no, you are both wrong.”
Benedict persisted. “That’s why Becket had you both hidden away. That’s what Fitzurse wanted, to seek you both out on behalf of the monarch. The discovery of a wife and daughter would cause Becket to lose his position as Archbishop of Canterbury. The King would be rid of his meddlesome priest once and for all.”
“I said no.”
Benedict stiffened, caught by Mama’s displeased tone for the first time.
“Your father wasn’t Thomas, although he kept us safe for many years.”
“Then who was he, Mama?”
Amélie drew herself up again, cheeks still wet. “I found that out when you were eight weeks old.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Amélie relaxed into the high-backed chair pulled before the fireplace in her bedroom, her baby cradled in both arms. “Shush, shush.” The padded tapestry cushions of the nursing chair were bliss to her tired limbs. Baby Laeticia had kept her from her rest for many hours last night.
Laeticia continued to mewl and grizzle, then buffeted her small face against Amélie’s woolen-clad bosom.
“Not so impatient. It’s coming.” Oh, this baby had her father’s strength of will, his enormous appetite too. Amélie undid the fastening at the front of her dress, moved her linen shift to one side, and released one full breast. Her tiny infant sought it out with her pink gums and settled in an instant.