The Fifth Knight(91)

Strong arms slipped across her shoulders. “Put your head down,” said Benedict, his deep voice near.

Theodosia did so, and the room whirled back into focus. She raised her head and looked from her mother to Benedict. He too had paled with the enormity of this revelation.

Amélie seemed sad yet utterly composed. “You can only imagine my shock at his words. I was sure I was to be put to death, and you, my blessed baby, along with me.”

“Why were we spared?” said Theodosia.

“His Grace was adamant he loved me from the moment he saw me, always would. That his marriage to Eleanor of Aquitaine was for political gain and no other reason.” Her lips puckered in bitterness. “She’s senior to him by eleven years, so I could believe him. Soiled goods, as well, cast aside by a king of France. Oh, he could persuade a stone to turn to gold, could your father. By the end of his visit, I had agreed to stay with my parents, and he would come and see you and me as often as he dared.”

“And he did?” said Benedict.

Amélie nodded. “Things changed suddenly after a couple of years, when Henry and Eleanor succeeded to the throne. For a prince to travel anonymously is difficult enough. He had barely managed it by behaving oddly and changing his plans at short notice. For a king, especially with a watchful queen, it was almost impossible. That was where our dear Thomas Becket came in.”

The door opened.

Theodosia gave a dreadful start, as if a ghost had entered.

Brother Edward Grim greeted them as he shut the door carefully and removed his cloak. “The sailing passages are booked,” he said. “Have you told them your story, Amélie?” He placed a flagon of wine, a jar of water, and a loaf of bread on the small table.

“I am almost finished, Brother,” she said. “Becket was serving as an archdeacon in Canterbury. Due to his brilliance and compassion, he was recommended as chancellor to Henry. They hit it off straight away and became the closest friends. Henry confided his secret to Becket, as not seeing Laeticia and me was breaking his heart. It was Becket’s suggestion to move us to Canterbury Cathedral.”

“I never saw the King there,” said Theodosia.

“You couldn’t,” said Amélie. “As you grew up, your coloring, your looks, became more and more like your father’s.” Her brows drew in a fleeting frown. “Not to mention your demeanor. We could not risk people seeing you and me with him and wondering about our ties.”

“It worked,” said Edward with a nod. “You were under my nose all along, and I never guessed.”

“That was why I had to go to Polesworth Abbey,” said Amélie. “But God consoled me. I made you as my gift to God, Laeticia.”

“Theodosia,” said Edward.

“Of course, Brother,” said her mother.

Theodosia had no words. It did not console her. She’d been ten years old, her mother’s place had been with her.

Benedict got to his feet. “Then my mission with the knights would have been ordered because the King and Becket had fallen out. Becket held Henry’s darkest secret. If it had got out, everything would have been ruined: the King’s marriage, his sons illegitimate.”

“Indeed,” said Edward. “Henry sent them to arrest Becket and find Sisters Amélie and Theodosia. He must have wanted to contain his secret once more.”

A deep sorrow and even deeper guilt tore through Theodosia. Bad enough that Thomas had died to save her, that had plagued her enough. But to have been cut down for a sinful lie — the lie was she and her false vocation. She might as well have landed a blow on the altar at Canterbury herself. Her stomach convulsed, and she put a hand to her mouth. How could she ever have thought she was a woman of God?

Around her, they talked on.

“Is it safe for Sisters Amélie and Theodosia to travel to France to see the King, Brother Edward?” said Benedict.

“I believe so.” The monk lit the wick of the open-dished oil lamp. “Come.” He gestured for all to sit round at table as he too sat. “Sister Theodosia?” His prompt allowed no delay.

Theodosia complied with weakened limbs, joining her mother.

“Thank you, Brother,” said Amélie. “I hadn’t noted the time slip away. Why, the darkness is almost complete outside.”

“Palmer, sit down,” said Edward.

The knight hung back from the table, standing with his big hands awkwardly at his side. “I don’t think I am fit to share this table, now that I know the truth.” He bowed to Amélie.

“Oh, dear boy.” Amélie gave him a sweet little smile. “I have lived humbly for so many years. It is very important that I am treated as a vowess.” She patted the free stool. “Things must be as before.”