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But then, as they followed the deer track in under the trees, he began to feel better. The air in the forest smelt wonderful after the day’s rain: he could almost taste it, and he was quite sure it was putting new heart in him.

And, after so long in the infirmary or, at best, penned within the walls of the Abbey, it felt marvellous to be out in the great, wide world again.

He realised presently that he had been so preoccupied with testing his legs and his endurance that he had hardly spared a thought for where they were going. Not that it was difficult to work it out. Stopping — he was in the lead — he turned to the Abbess and said softly, ‘Your plan worked, I take it? We’re on our way to wherever it is that Meriel has been hiding out?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered back. ‘Augustine says she’s quite all right. Looking very well, in fact.’

‘And camping in one of the old charcoal burners’ huts?’

‘Yes.’

He remembered somebody else doing that. He sent up a brief prayer that, this time, it wouldn’t end as it had done then.

He was about to move on when she stopped him by catching hold of his sleeve. ‘Sir Josse, we need to — That is, I fear for Meriel’s safety, as for that of any young girl in the forest alone. I’m sure I do not need to say any more.’

He knew exactly what she meant. He, too, remembered. He said, ‘No, Abbess. You don’t.’

Moving on, in his mind he saw again — although he tried not to — what he and the Abbess had once witnessed, not many miles from the place to which they were now heading. And, remembering, he understood her urgency. She was quite right; an isolated hut deep in the Wealden Forest was no place for a young girl all on her own.

He slowed down as they approached the clearing. For one thing, it wouldn’t be kind to surprise Meriel by crashing unexpectedly into the silent grove. For another — well, the forest somehow seemed to command a reverent pace; you never quite knew what you might surprise out of its hiding place. .

He stopped on the edge of the clearing. The Abbess was at his shoulder, and he thought she seemed to be holding her breath. Together they peered through the undergrowth into the open space beyond.

The least dilapidated of the ancient dwellings was clearly occupied. There was a small fire burning outside it, within a neatly built hearth of stones. Garments of some sort had been hung on some bushes; had Meriel been doing the washing? Surely not!

Adopting the Abbess’s tactic of holding her breath, the better to listen, he cocked an ear in the direction of the clearing.

Carrying quite clearly on the still evening air came the sound of voices.

A girl’s voice — Meriel’s? — speaking softly, a question in her tone.

And, answering, a different voice. Warm with love, it seemed to give reassurance in response to Meriel’s anxiety.

It was, quite unmistakably, a man’s voice.

Beside him, Josse felt the Abbess stiffen in outrage. ‘She’s got a man in there!’ she hissed. And, before Josse could stop her, she pushed her way through the last belt of undergrowth, strode across the glade to the hut and cried, ‘Meriel! Meriel, answer me, it’s the Abbess. What on earth do you think you’re doing?’

Trying to hurry after her, Josse tripped and almost fell. Recovering, his eyes ever on the tall, erect figure of the Abbess standing there alone, he stumbled on. But before he could reach her, do whatever he could to defend her, a figure shot out of the hut.

A figure as tall as the Abbess, much broader in the shoulder, and holding a sword.

With a last huge effort, Josse hurled himself forward. The man saw him coming, turning towards him and swiftly raising his sword to defend himself all in one easy, practised movement. But it was that trained eye and obedient body that saved Josse; the young man observed instantly that Josse was unarmed, and dropped his weapon. Instead of running into the sword, Josse found himself falling into the man’s outstretched arms.

The young stranger said, ‘Sir Josse d’Acquin, I greet you.’ And he dropped on one knee, bowing his head as if he were swearing fealty.

Panting, the stitch in his side feeling as if it were cutting him in two, Josse slumped to the ground. His eyes almost on a level with the young man’s, he said, ‘Forgive me for not standing to receive your greetings as I should. But I don’t think I can.’

With enormous relief, he lay back on the welcoming forest floor and closed his eyes.

But not for long.

He heard the Abbess call again, ‘Meriel! Are you all right, child? Meriel!’ And then, as he opened his eyes, he saw the girl emerge from the hut.

It was only then he noticed that both of them, Meriel and the young man, were not dressed. They had both wrapped themselves in covers of some sort, and they both looked as if they had just got out of bed.

Josse sat up. After a moment, his head stopped spinning and he said, ‘I believe, Abbess, that we intrude. Let us move away some distance, and perhaps Meriel and-?’

‘Jerome,’ said the young man, raising his head with dignity. ‘Jerome de Waelsham.’ Some achievement, Josse thought wryly, to maintain such presence when clad in nothing but a blanket.

‘Perhaps Meriel and Jerome will come to speak with us when they are ready?’ Josse went on.

Jerome glanced at Meriel, who nodded. She was wide-eyed with fear, and Josse noticed that the young man swiftly went to her side, putting a protective arm around her bare shoulders.

The Abbess, still fuming, began to say something. ‘Don’t you try to-’

Josse interrupted. ‘Come away, Abbess,’ he said quietly. ‘We are embarrassing them. They will talk to us when they are ready, I am sure of that.’

The young man shot him a grateful look, collected the garments from the bush and followed Meriel inside the hut. Josse took the Abbess’s arm — she was rigid with tension — and led her over to the far side of the clearing. They sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree.

‘They were lying together!’ she said with furious indignation.

‘Aye,’ he agreed. ‘That they were.’

She turned on him. ‘How can you be so calm?’ she demanded. ‘Two young people — she’s scarcely sixteen! — out here in the wilds, all self-control thrown to the winds, and she’s only just left the Abbey!’

‘Where she was not a nun,’ he reminded her, ‘so she has broken no vow of chastity.’

‘But — but-’ Helewise spluttered. Then, with an indignant, ‘Humph!’ she folded her arms and lapsed into wounded silence.

I have let her down, he thought ruefully. She expected my support in her condemnation, and I am unable to give it.

He saw them again in his mind’s eye, that handsome, loving pair. Saw how she looked to him for comfort, saw how he hastened to show her how much he cared. There was love, right enough, he thought. And, for the life of me, I can’t condemn it asa sin.

After a while, the young couple came out of the hut. They were fully dressed, Meriel in a simple golden-yellow gown and Jerome in hose and tunic. His hair, Josse noted absently, looked as if it had been cropped very short not long ago.

The pair stopped in front of the Abbess and Josse, who both rose to their feet. The Abbess — sounding once more in control of herself — said, ‘Meriel, will you please tell me — us — what is going on?’

Meriel took an audible breath, then said, ‘I had to run away, Abbess Helewise. I know how much trouble I must have caused, and please believe that I deeply regret it. You took us in, you didn’t let Alba turn you against us with her rantings and ravings, and I believe you intended to side with Berthe and me over whether or not we had to become nuns.’

‘Indeed I did!’ the Abbess exclaimed. ‘No girl or woman is ever put into the community against her will, Meriel.’