Owen glanced at Lucie and saw that the sad memory held her, too.
Phillippa sighed and shook herself. 'Do you know, but for that difference they looked like brother and sister. But the difference was so marked. I can imagine them there in that lovely garden, bent over the creeping thymes while he ticks off the names — she leaning over to brush the mounds with a fingertip, sniffing, praising, and he blushing all the while. She had that French way about her that men find disarming. He adored her, it was plain’
Lucie flushed at the comment. Owen was uneasy at the direction of this tale. Not that it did not seem the most natural consequence in the world, but what would this mean for Lucie? What had possessed Nicholas to marry the daughter of the woman he adored?
'On that first visit Amelie asked Nicholas for cuttings of angelica, pennyroyal, and madder. He asked why. She told him she wished to begin a garden. To show Robert she meant to play the proper lady of the manor. He suggested prettier plants — lavender, santolina, poppies, mother of thyme. No, no, she wanted just what she asked for. He argued that angelica archangelica was an ungainly plant, a huge seed head, no flower. She told him that at the monastery of San Martin they strewed angelica on the floors and were delivered from a visitation of the Devil.
'He grew bold, hoping to show off his knowledge. "You fear that the Devil prevents you from bearing a child?" She blushed, but met his eyes, rewarding him with just that look of admiration he'd hoped for. She plainly thought he could read her mind. Merciful Heaven, it must have been her maid put such a foolish idea into her head.' Phillippa looked down into the fire. 'Or perhaps I was foolish not to see that she was, indeed, bedevilled.' She shook her head and her eyes returned to Lucie.
'Nicholas proudly explained how he had guessed. Pennyroyal and madder were to bring on her monthly flux in case it was not the Devil who prevented it. He asked why the Devil would do this to her. Amelie said she deserved to be cursed. She did not love her husband, which was a great sin. "But you wish to have his child?" "Oh, but it is most important. I am no one if I do not have his child. If I disappoint him, he will cast me aside."
'The poor boy. He was outraged. He must protect her. Save her from Sir Robert. How could he refuse her? But it would take too long to begin the plants. So Nicholas gave Amelie the prepared medicines — he sneaked them out, knowing full well he should not do this without his father's advice. Nicholas swore that he gave her careful instructions. He told me that Amelie's eyes shone when he brought the medicines to her, and he felt like a king.' Phillippa nodded to Owen. 'You've only to look at her daughter to understand. Though Lucie's soul is different — she has my backbone. Amelie would be alive now if she'd our blood in her’
'Did no one in your family ever die in childbirth?' Lucie demanded.
Her aunt closed her eyes, drew back into herself. 'Your mother's death was unnecessary,' she said softly. 'It was not God's choice.'
'You do go the long way round’ Owen said.
'I want you to understand, that is why. You must understand. The garden enchanted Amelie. She and Nicholas became friends. Because she was content, by midsummer Amelie was with child.' Phillippa looked up and noticed discomfort in both faces. 'Sir Robert's child, you understand. Nothing of that sort ever passed between Nicholas and Amelie.'
'Merciful Mother,' Lucie whispered, crossing herself.
Owen hated this eavesdropping. He was not cut out for it. He yearned for a practice field. A battle. The slaughter of strangers seemed easier on the stomach than this prying. Dearest Lucie. What must she be going through? And this slow, opinionated woman dragged it out.
'It was a difficult birth. Magda Digby helped. We walked Amelie all night. She was in such pain, even the birthing chair was agony on her skin. But a magic lit her face when she was delivered of a healthy girl. Magda said it was a good thing Amelie was pleased with you, for she doubted she would have another after such a difficult birth. I disagreed.
'But Sir Robert had heard Magda's prediction. A brother will always listen to a stranger before his own sister.' Phillippa sniffed at Owen's warning look. She would choose her own pace. 'Within months my brother was off to London to resume his service with King Edward. My brother, the old fool.' She leaned over and took Lucie's hand. 'You know, I feared that Sir Robert would neglect you. A daughter is important only in helping with the young ones who come after, and in creating alliances through marriage. But Robert would win more support in King Edward's service than he'd gain by marrying you into a noble family. And Magda said there would be no more young ones. I swore then that 1 would watch over you. See that you had a chance at happiness.'
'Surely Mamam also would watch over me?'
Phillippa patted Lucie's hand. 'If she were not such a child herself.' She sighed.
Abbot Campian, noting the absence of Wulfstan and his assistant in the refectory, sent Sebastian to inquire. It was like Wulfstan to forget to ask for assistance. Campian was not surprised to see the novice Henry return. Sent by Wulfstan to make his excuses as usual, he guessed.
But Henry made no excuses. He looked distraught and spoke with breathless haste. 'Brother Wulfstan has been poisoned. I had to stay with him. Brother Michaelo. You must confront him. He gave him a drink that contained a large dose of foxglove.'
His old friend. Dear Lord, not his old friend. 'Where is Wulfstan now?'
"In the infirmary. I left Sebastian with him. Told him not to let anyone in but you or me.'
'Good. Good.' The Abbot scribbled something, went to the door, and called for his secretary, Brother Anthony. Take this to Jehannes, the Archbishop's secretary. He will know what to do. As you leave, tell the porter to look out for Brother Michaelo. He must not leave the abbey.'
Anthony left without a word.
Melisende leapt off Lucie's lap to investigate a movement in the corner of the kitchen. Lucie got up, checked the soup that simmered for tomorrow, sat back down. 'In my wedding chest I found a herbal with my mother's mother's name on it. I could not remember the book. Or Maman giving it to me.'
Phillippa shook her head. 'Nicholas never showed it to you? How like a man not to realise what it would mean to you. Amelie presented it to Nicholas when he became a journeyman. Her mother had given it to her. It was wondrously illustrated and bound in soft leather. She had it by heart and thought he might enjoy it.'
'It sounds as though they had a pleasant life, those two’ Owen noted.
'Ah. But then trouble appeared. Amelie changed. Her feet skimmed the earth. Her eyes sparkled. She spent hours in the maze, but without Nicholas. It was Lucie, seven years old and very curious, who told me her mother had a friend in there with her, a fair-haired prince.'
Lucie looked horrified. 'I betrayed her.'
Phillippa rolled her eyes. 'Nonsense. You simply understood me better than your mother did. My brother was a lout. If this man could bring Amelie such joy, I saw no harm in him, none at all. And if that shocks you, so be it.
'So I told Amelie I wished to meet the young man. And I did. Oh, but he was handsome. Blond, tall, courtly. I could find no fault with him. And he had come for her. He'd found a patron in Milan and meant to take her with him. No one would know she was not his wife.
'That gave me a start. Milan! I'd heard tales of the soldiers in service with the Italian nobles who fight endless wars among themselves. Such a soldier did not bring with him a wife and child. I reasoned with them. But they had answers to all my protests. Lucie would go to a convent there. After all, her mother had been educated in a convent.
'But in France, I reminded her, where they spoke her language. Shared her customs. "Oh, but they will speak French. All educated people speak French." She was such an innocent. I reminded her that Italy was nothing like Lucie's home. Sunny and warm. The voices soft and slippery. A child is frightened by such change. And then to be apart from her mother. Oh, dear God, what was she thinking?' Phillippa paused a moment to calm herself. 'But she was decided. And once Amelie decided, God and all His angels could not change her mind. It was her undoing’ Tears glittered in Phillippa's eyes. She watched Lucie, but it was plain she saw Amelie sitting there before the fire.