Justice for the Damned

Chapter Thirty-Two

Had Eleanor known about Thomas' momentary displeasure and the cause, her reaction might have been guilty delight mixed with surprised amusement. Herbert was an attractive man, even clever were she to be fair in judgement, but no imp would ever take on his form to torment her in dreams. Whatever charms this vintner might possess, they were not unflawed. He was an easy temptation to set aside.

"Your words have touched this heart, my lady, and I have found merit in them," the vintner said as he shifted his gaze from the departing monk back to the prioress.

"What frail logic have you transformed into something of value, Master Herbert?"

"God has surely sent you to bend me to His will. You see, I have suddenly lost all desire to go abroad and think I would find comfort in remaining near my first wife's lonely grave. I would never step on cursed soil, but might not my presence and daily prayers give her tortured spirit some comfort even in Hell?"

Souls in Hell were not granted ease, but Eleanor did not want to discourage the man from an act that might bring him respite from grief. "Yet you still wish to remarry?" she asked.

"Aye, I do, weak of flesh that I am. I would surely die of burning if I did not find a wife." He flicked his hand toward the priory. "Unlike your young monk, I have no religious calling, and sons are needed if any business is to continue and prosper."

"Have you new hope that Alys will accept you as husband?"

He shook his head. "You spoke of kindness and thus persuaded me that further delay in this marriage is hurtful to all concerned. Until Alys is firmly pledged to me, she will persist with her dream that she may yet wed the glover. While I have tolerated a young girl's itch for a boy, I now understand that there is great danger in continuing to do so." His gaze was almost caressing as he looked down at Eleanor. "Women who stay in the world have led men to their damnation since Eve gave Adam the apple. Master Bernard would have to be a saint not to bed Alys if she continues to give him encouragement. No matter how much patience and compassion I might wish to show in this matter, I do require that my first born be of my seed. Is that not reasonable?"

"You should expect it," Eleanor replied truthfully, yet she was unsettled by his mocking tone.

"Thus all sweet courting must end. Although I am loath to do so, I have no choice but to make one final trip to Gascony, and so I go to Mistress Jhone to insist that the marriage be arranged before I leave."

"You know that any woman may refuse a marriage…"

"Alys might have that legal right, but surely she understands both the profit in our union and her moral obligation. The marriage was her dead father's wish. It is her mother's. It is mine. How can she refuse?"

Eleanor nodded with barely concealed reluctance.

"Once Alys and I are vowed to each other, I can take this last journey without fear that the mother will weaken and let the girl marry Master Bernard." Herbert folded his hands. "The boy is only interested in the wool business and would cast the widow from their hearth as soon as he had the daughter. I would not be so cruel."

Why fear that Mistress Jhone would suddenly change, a woman who had shown no bending at all in this matter heretofore? Eleanor frowned, yet she could not quarrel with the vintner's fears regarding Alys and Bernard. Their meetings might seem too brief to the pair, but the prioress knew how quickly lust flamed and how little time it took to find a mutual quenching. "When do you leave?"

"Within the next few days." He gestured with frustration. "You see why I need an immediate answer. My courting skills are indeed rough, but I like Alys. She may be young, but she is not a child and has a quick wit. She is like a bright fire, and I am a cold man without a wife. My heart finds warmth in her light spirit. In time, we could surely learn to love each other. He fell silent.

"I will pray for good fortune in this matter," Eleanor said, carefully choosing her words. The vintner might have won her compassion with these latest arguments, and she feared that Bernard had an interest in stolen manuscripts, but her woman's heart still sided with the younger couple.

Ignoring any ambivalence in Eleanor's fair wishes, the merchant smiled as if God Himself had approved his venture. He quickly asked a blessing, then hurried off to the woolmonger's family.

Eleanor longed to follow but knew she had no cause to interfere.