Her mother could no longer contain herself. “Just leave them, Brother. They will not be in the way.”
The monk carried on till he reached the corner, then plunked the buckets down on the floor with a grunt. Hands free of the weight, he rubbed them together. “That one’s lye.” He nodded to the liquid. “I’m not leaving that anywhere folk could trip on it.” He stamped out without waiting for a reply, closing the door with an extravagant slam.
“How rude.” Amélie raised her eyebrows as she concentrated on threading her needle. “Men of the church are supposed to recognize what a privilege it is to serve one’s fellow man.”
“Perhaps it is women he doesn’t like to serve, Mama,” said Theodosia.
Her mother sniffed. “Most impious.” She stood up from her seat. “Now come, please. I shall start with tacking up the hem.”
Theodosia went to stand before her, pushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear as she did so. She caught Benedict’s scent from her hand and cast her mother a guilty glance. Mama must surely be able to pick up on it. But no. Her mother bent to her work at the dress hem, exclaiming at the state of it all.
A brisk knock came at the door.
Amélie straightened up with a tut. “Oh, what does that Paulus want now?”
Moving to the door, Theodosia tried to placate her. “I am sure he has good reason.” Prepared with a patient smile, she raised the stiff metal hasp and opened the door.
Sir Reginald Fitzurse stood there, drawn sword in hand. “Good day, Sister.”
♦ ♦ ♦
“I’ve seen a number of shops and stalls that sell clothing.” Brother Edward cut a path in front of Palmer through the bustling streets, with people quick to defer to his status as a man of God. “It shouldn’t take us long to get there, and they will have wide choice.”
“I’m not bothered for myself,” said Palmer. “I only need to look passable. But I want to get something special for Theodosia.”
“Don’t you mean Sister Theodosia?” Edward’s question carried disapproval.
“Of course, yes. It’s hard to go back to calling her that after weeks of using her name only.”
“Then get used to it, Palmer. For a sister is what she is. I must say, it gave me quite a shock to see her in a laywoman’s clothes. I hardly recognized her. They made her appear something else, did they not? More worldly, I would say, which worries me greatly.”
“God bless you, Brother.” A toothless, filthy woman limped up to Edward and pressed something into his hand.
Palmer offered up his own thanks for the woman’s interruption. The time he’d spent with Theodosia last night had been a marvel for him, but Brother Edward would have a very different view. It wasn’t a view Palmer would want to debate, given the still-tender bruise on his jaw.
Edward raised his hand in a quick blessing, and the woman crossed herself with a deep bow.
As she hurried on her way, Palmer drew alongside Edward. “What was that about?”
“Alms,” replied the monk. He opened up his palm to show a tiny, bent coin. “It happens all the time in public. People see my robes, remember their sins, then give for the poor in the hopes it’ll help.” He put the coin in a leather pouch attached to his belt. “It breaks my heart to take it.”
“Then why didn’t you give it back?”
“Do you jest, Palmer?”
“No,” said Palmer.
“Ah. Then your answer comes from pure ignorance, not rudeness.”
Who did this man of the cloth think he was? “With respect to you, Brother — ”
“Oh, keep your high horse for going into battle, Palmer. You’re a fighting sinner. How could you know?” He stopped Palmer’s words with a raised hand. “If I refused that woman’s offering, she would be cut to the quick. By giving me what little she has to help the poor, she has absolute faith that her reward will be in Paradise. She is, in effect, paying for eternal life. Who am I to refuse that?”
Palmer gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I’d let the poor have the money. Or let that poor wretch keep hers. Either way, let God decide their eternal fate.”
“With such unholy thoughts, I’m sure he’s deciding yours, Palmer. Well, here we are.” Edward gave a wide gesture to the street before them. “I’m sure we can find what we need without too much trouble.”
Shops and stalls, crowded with hats, cloaks, skirts, breeches. Some luxurious, some new. Some that had seen better days but were still serviceable. Palmer would make a quick choice for himself.
Then take his time to choose something beautiful for his beautiful Theodosia.