Sanctuary of Roses by Colleen Gleason Read Free Book Online

do
not wish to stain you,” she explained, spreading her blackened
hands. “I will be thus for many days before it fades. Now, I must
speak with Mother Bertilde. She does know that you have
arrived?”
    Gavin nodded, again struck by her clear
practicality in what must be a moment of upheaval. “Aye. However,
we must leave before matins, so do you not delay. I’ll not be
tricked again, and I’ll not be held longer than need be.” The
annoyance he’d felt at being deceived by a bunch of women surged
within him, and he looked at her sharply. “No tricks,
Madelyne.”
    “Nay, my lord,” she responded. “It is past
the time of tricks.”
    * * *
    Madelyne closed the door to her cell and
leaned her full weight against it, covering her mouth with two
shaking hands. She knew naught could keep the reality of Gavin of
Mal Verne at bay, but she hadn’t the strength to hold herself
upright any longer.
    Dear God, she had known…had known he
would come…had known deep in the most secret part of herself that
her peace would be destroyed by this man. And, God’s Truth, she had
prayed for it—prayed to see him again, prayed that he would find
his way back to the abbey.
    What had she done?
    She choked on a sob and swallowed hard,
hearing the grating sound of her dry throat in the dense silence.
All in the abbey knew of his arrival, and knew the purpose of it. A
hush of anxiety had fallen like a fog that smothered those within
its walls.
    Now, she must collect all of her strength
and will and protect them all—most especially protect her mother.
She must go willingly with him, she must find a way to keep him
from learning of Anne’s existence. The memory haunted her: of those
days at Tricourten, of her mother’s face, lined with worry and
pain, with dark circles curving under her eyes and purple marks on
her face and arms, and scars on her back.
    Madelyne could never allow Anne to go back
to Fantin, to that life.
    A soft knocking at the door drew Madelyne’s
scattered, panicked thoughts under control and she thrust herself
away from it. Turning to gather her few belongings, desperate to
keep her fears hidden, she called, “Enter.”
    The door opened, but she did not turn from
her trunk.
    “Madelyne!”
    To her surprise, it was Sister Patricka—not
Mal Verne—who came into the small room. Before Madelyne could
react, the other woman flew toward her, gathering her into her arms
in a fierce embrace. “The Mother has told me you are to go with the
men. I am going with you.”
    Madelyne pulled away to look into her
friend’s round, cherubic face. No fear or reluctance showed there,
only earnestness and mayhaps a bit of apprehension. “You are to go
with me?”
    “Aye. There is no reason that I should stay
here any longer—and I could not let you go alone. I have long
realized I cannot take the final step and say my last vows. ’Tis
not God’s will. So I shall go as your tiring woman. If you’ll have
me.”
    Relief flooded through Madelyne, and she
hugged her again, huddling her face into Patricka’s shoulder. “Aye,
Tricky, I would have you—if you are certain you wish to make that
sacrifice. Only if you are certain.”
    Patricka nodded with such vigor that her
wimple slipped to one side. “Aye, and an honor it would be.”
    Madelyne gripped her soft fingers, realizing
that Patricka did not know how she and Anne had come to Lock Rose
Abbey. “I cannot promise what will happen…there are many things you
do not know, and that I cannot tell you at this time. But I vow
that I’ll keep you from harm ere I can.”
    “I have no fear of that, Maddie. The Mother
did warn me that all was not as it seems. I place myself in your
hands—and in God’s. ’Tis my belief that I can do you more good at
your side than here, clutching prayer beads in the chapel.”
    Madelyne gave a weak laugh. Tricky had a way
of speaking that reduced complicated situations to such simple
ones. “Thank you, my friend. Now, we must gather our