The Legacy by T. J. Bennett Read Free Book Online Page B

he paced around her. She had to crane her neck to keep her eyes on him.
    “You were in the convent. Why did you come home?” His tone sounded vaguely accusatory.
    She swallowed. “I had my reasons.”
    “You left of your own accord?” he persisted.
    She nearly snorted, but stopped herself in time. “Indeed. I fled it as though the very hounds of Hell pursued me.”
    Both eyebrows rose this time. “I see.” He continued to pace. “Did your calling change?”
    “It did not.” Really, the man could have been a lawyer.
    “Then why did you choose to join a cloister in the first place?” A bit of his own frustration at her reticence broke through his calm facade.
    “The choice was never my own. The baron forced it upon me. I did, after a time, find a certain comfort there, but in the last few years things changed.”
    He stopped in front of her. “What brought on the change?”
    She lifted a shoulder evasively. “Many things.”
    “Name one.”
    “Perhaps I discovered I lacked the gift of celibacy?” she jested. She referred, of course, to the Apostle Paul’s belief those who had the ability to abstain from marriage were given that gift by God himself.
    She thought she heard him mutter, “Why do I find that so easy to believe?” He paced away again. “Name another,” he threw over his shoulder.
    It appeared there was to be no avoiding this confrontation. Very well. “I came to believe the Church was in error on many issues regarding the service of the clergy.”
    He stopped pacing. “Are you a believer in the New Faith?” he asked in apparent dismay.
    The followers of Martin Luther had termed their reformed view of Christianity as the New Faith. When Dr. Luther had been a scholar and professor at Wittenberg University, he’d nailed his “Ninety-five Theses” attacking the sale of church indulgences to the church door. They were later retrieved and printed in German for all to read and debate. Luther’s ideas had spread like wildfire—even into the convents and cloisters themselves. Elector Frederick, the region’s prince, had been clashing with the Pope over Luther ever since, and occasionally the Emperor too.
    She tried to form an appropriate answer, not certain in which camp her new husband’s interests lay.
    Wolf groaned inwardly when she didn’t respond. He moved closer to the dwindling flames in the fireplace, and pulled a poker from the tool stand, using it to adjust the logs. The flames obediently jumped. He set the poker aside and braced a hand above the mantle, staring into the dance of fire.
    It was bad enough she was a noble, and an ex-nun, but she had to be a follower of Martin Luther’s as well? Wolf’s chances of convincing her to take up her vows again seemed less likely with each passing moment.
    He couldn’t confine her to a convent against her will, though he knew some families did, and there were still plenty of convents outside Elector Frederick’s region willing to take her under those conditions. It simply was not his way. He sighed, feeling his fate closing in upon him. Still, he couldn’t keep her. Besides having no interest in a noblewoman as a wife, what would happen when she found out about the compact he had made with the baron?
    “You needn’t be afraid,” he finally said. “I promised you no harm would come to you within these walls, and I meant it. More to the point,” he said looking at her sideways, “since the Elector has come over to Dr. Luther’s side, as long as you’re in Electoral Saxony, you’ll be safe. Speak freely.”
    She bit her lip, but still didn’t answer.
    He turned to her. “Tell me. Why do you think, along with Dr. Luther, you know better than the Pope what is good for a priest?”
    His goad worked predictably enough. She couldn’t resist the lure.
    “This is not a frivolous matter,” she flared. “The Church places an unbearable burden upon the clergy, one even the Pope cannot carry. It breeds corruption and decadence.”
    She