The Lion of Justice by Jean Plaidy Page A

no say in whom they should or should not marry. She remembered the story of her mother’s being washed up at Queen’s Ferry and being given the hospitality of the King of Scotland; and the King of Scotland had been handsome and young, a veritable fairy prince. He had said, ‘This Princess is without dowry. She has no great position, but I love her and she loves me.’ And so they were married. Her mother’s attendants had often told the story. How beautiful she was and how the King had taken one look at her and had declared his intention of marrying her. That was love; that was romance; and if, as Aunt Christina had said, she had been guilty of dreams, they had certainly not been lascivious: they had concerned an idyllic romance such as that of her parents.
    The door of her cell was opened; the Abbess came and sat down looking at her.
    â€˜What did he say to you?’
    â€˜He spoke of marriage.’
    â€˜And you were all a-tremble to go to him! I could see you could scarcely wait. You should thank me for taking such good care of you. He would have had you with child by now had I left you together.’
    Edith rose from her straw. ‘It is not true. I hated him. He is coarse . . . and I would rather do anything than marry him.’
    The Abbess was silent for a few moments; her expression softened. Here was triumph.
    Then her lips hardened. ‘You’re lying. I have seen the wanton in you.’
    â€˜Nay, ’tis not so.’
    â€˜There was pleasure on your face when he removed your coif.’
    â€˜I hated his hands on me.’
    â€˜You hated that? Then what of the marriage bed? That will be more to your taste doubtless. Such a man woulddebase you. Your body would belong to him. You know little of such men. You know nothing of what marriage means. It is my duty to make that plain to you. You cannot fall into his probing lascivious hands without knowing what is in store for you.’
    â€˜Pray do not tell me. I cannot bear to hear.’
    â€˜But you shall hear.’ The Abbess bent over her. She forced her to turn so that she lay on her back and the Abbess stared down at her.
    Edith wanted to stop up her ears. She could not bear to listen to what her aunt was saying. She could not believe it. Her saintly mother could never have done such things.
    The Abbess was smiling to herself; she seemed to be looking into far-off pictures which she was conjuring up from her imagination.
    She said several times, ‘This I tell you for your own good. That you may know the ways of men and what they expect from women.’
    â€˜I want none of him,’ sobbed Edith.
    â€˜There is only one safe place and that is in the Abbey. And here the soldiers could come at any time. Wear the robe always; hide your hair; try to look cold and unsmiling. For if the soldiers should come to this Abbey – as they have done to others – then men would seize you and do to you unlawfully what Alan of Bretagne would with the blessing of the church. There is only one way to save yourself. I offer you that. You can tell the King that you have made up your mind to become a nun. That you have already taken some of your vows.’
    â€˜I have not.’
    â€˜That can be remedied.’
    â€˜But I will not. My father said . . .’
    â€˜You want to go to this man? You long for the touch of his probing hands; your body calls out to share in his filthy practices.’
    â€˜No. No.’
    â€˜Listen to me. It is the custom in our royal family that a member of it shall always be an Abbess of Wilton Abbey. I am shortly to leave Rumsey for Wilton. I shall train you to take my place, for you shall be the Abbess in due time. It is your duty to our ancestors and first of all to the greatest ofthem, King Alfred. Would you displease him? He would haunt you if you did. Alfred, the saints and God himself have decreed that you shall follow me. You will be in command of a great