The Innocent by Bertrice Small

small bow. "I will see to your brother immediately," he said. "Again, I thank you for your hospitality, my lady Eleanore."
    "God grant you good rest, sir," she answered him.
    "I did not know you were so skilled in the arts of flirting, my pretty," Saer de Bude said suggestively. "Did the good nuns teach you that amorous art, Elf? You do not flirt with me, and I am quite overcome by your loveliness." He reached out to take her hand in his, but Elf snatched it away before he might do so.
    "Why do you mistake simple courtesy for something else?" she asked him sharply. Then more boldly, "And why do you remain here at Ashlin, sir? You are not really needed by anyone. Dickon will die soon. It is not fitting that you be here in this house with two women and no older relation. Surely you do not wish to damage your cousin’s reputation?" Suddenly, Elf was more angry than she had ever been.
    "You do not fear for your own reputation?" he mocked her.
    "Why? All who know me know I am chaste, for I am a bride of Christ. My reputation is safe, but what of Isleen's, sir?" Elf countered, then turned and came down from the high board. After seeking out Ida, Elf crawled with the old woman into a bed space at the end of the hall. The space Elf had allocated to Ranulf de Glandeville had actually been hers, but as it was the best one in the hall, she gave it to their guest. Ida and Elf preferred being near Richard de Montfort, who spent all his time in the hall now. Isleen slept in the small bedchamber off the solar, which was located behind the hall, while Saer de Bude found his rest in a little attic room.
    Richard de Montfort greeted the king’s messenger, and invited him to sit by his side. "I have a commission for you, if you can take it, sir," he said softly. "My wife and I are childless. Under the laws of inheritance Ashlin must go to my sister, Eleanore. My wife’s dowry, of course, will be returned to her family, the de Warennes, as will Isleen. She is still young and beautiful. Another husband can be found for her, I am certain. In the morning I will ask my sister to write my will, for she has been most excellently educated at St. Frideswide's. She will make three copies. One I shall keep. The second I would have you deliver to the Bishop of Worcester; the third take to the king. I do this so that there is no mistake in my intentions for my wife and my sister. A serf has already been delegated to ride to the bishop when I die, and inform him of my demise. The bishop is to notify the king. I entrust Eleanore’s safety to King Stephen. Will you do this for me, sir?" the lord of Ashlin finished weakly.
    "I will, and gladly," Ranulf de Glandeville said quietly.
    Richard nodded, openly relieved. "Thank you, sir. I do not like my wife’s cousin. He presumes too much, but I have tolerated him for Isleen’s sake because she seems so fond of him. Of late, however, I have seen this Saer de Bude looking at my young sister when he thought no one was noticing him. His gaze is too predatory to suit me. Elf is an innocent. She would not know how to defend herself against such a man."
    Elf, Ranulf thought. It was a charming nickname. "How long has your sister been at St. Frideswide's? I know it, for a young relative of mine is there. The girl’s name is Isabeaux St. Simon, but she is to marry soon, this autumn, I think."
    "Isa is one of Elf’s two best friends," Richard answered. "You must tell my sister that you know her. I took Elf to the convent shortly after her fifth birthday. Our father had died, and then our mother. I had contracted a marriage with the de Warennes, and they did not think it fair that Isleen should have to raise my sister. It was they who suggested St. Frideswide's. Knowing my sister’s dower was a small one, they also suggested that she become a nun when she was old enough. It was a good decision. Elf has been safe in these troubled times. Her gentle disposition is perfect for the life she will lead. I should fear for her