He glances angrily at me but says nothing. A small tic begins at the base of his jaw. He appeals to Chancellor Crunard. “Tell them. Tell them how delicate the balance. How each bit of information has the power to sway that balance.”
“He has no need to tell me,” the abbess says sharply.
Crunard spreads his hands. “Then you know it is true. The circling vultures grow bold. The regent of France has forbidden that Anne be crowned duchess. It is our enemies’ wish to make her France’s ward so that they may claim Brittany for their own. They also claim the right to determine who she will marry.”
Duval begins pacing. “Spies are everywhere. we can scarce keep track of them all. The French have set up a permanent entourage within our court, which has made some of the border nations uneasy.”
Crunard adds, “Not to mention that their presence makes it impossible to see our duchess crowned without their knowledge. But until we place that crown upon her head before her people and the Church, we are vulnerable.”
I cannot help but feel sympathy for our poor duchess. “Surely there is some way out of this mess?”
I have addressed my question to the abbess, but it is Duval who answers. “I will forge one with my bare hands, if need be,” he says. “I vow that I will see her crowned duchess, and I will see her safely wed. But I need information against our enemies if I am to accomplish this.”
The room falls so silent that I fear they will hear the pounding of my heart. Duval’s vow has moved me, and that he has made it on sacred ground proves he is either very brave or very foolish.
At last the abbess speaks. “I will concede your greater experience in the matter of gathering information,” she says.
At her words, Duval relaxes somewhat. The fool. The look she has given him is one that all of us at the convent have learned to fear, and I, for one, do not care for the gleam in her eye one bit.
“Your concern for our country is admirable, and it is true that few are as committed as you.” Her compliments lull him further into an illusion of safety. “And,” she continues, “I know you are as anxious to help us as we are to help you.”
Duval’s face creases into a frown as he tries to recall expressing such a thing. My heart swells with pride at how neatly the reverend mother is boxing him in. She glances at Chancellor Crunard, who gives a slight nod.
"We will be happy to work with you. And in order that we may do so more smoothly, we will place Ismae in your household for the next few weeks.”
The shock of her words forces all the air from my lungs, which is the only thing that keeps me from shouting No!
Duval sends me a horrified look — as if this has somehow been my doing! He opens his mouth to protest, but the abbess talks over him.
"We need someone at court. I don’t like being so far away when there is such turmoil surrounding our duchess. Posing as your mistress, Ismae will have access to all the people and information the convent requires. More important, she will be in a position to act when needed. And” — she gives him a beatific smile — “coordinating our respective duties will then be possible.”
I cannot help but admire the neatly set trap she has built around him. I would admire it even more if I had not been the bait. “But Reverend Mother — ” I start, but she silences me with a look.
Duval, however, does not owe her the same blind obedience. “You are mad,” he says simply, and the reverend mother’s face hardens. “I shall do no such thing. I do not have time to play nursemaid to one of your novitiates.”
“Then any chance we have of coordinating our efforts is lost,” she says, her entire demeanor cold and distant.
“You are blackmailing me,” Duval says, aggrieved.
“No, only agreeing to the cooperation you yourself have requested.” And there it is. He is well and truly trapped, and he knows it.
when he huffs out a sigh of resignation, I know she has won. “I will not claim her as mistress. we shall say she is my cousin.” That barb finds its home. Am I so very repugnant?
The abbess looks incredulous. “And who will believe you? Your family and its ties are too well known for that to work.”
“Besides,” Sir Crunard adds, “no one would place an unwed maid in your care without female family members to chaperone. It is much more believable that you have simply taken a mistress.”
I clear my throat, and the abbess raises an eyebrow, giving me permission to speak. "Would it not work for me to be installed in his kitchens? Or as a maid?”
She waves her hand, brushing away my suggestions. “You would not have access to court then, which is the whole point of this exercise.”
"Except,” Duval points out, “I am not known to favor mistresses. Not to mention that if I did, it would certainly not be one who was greener than a winter apple.”
I set my teeth at his words. I am not that unpolished.
Reverend Mother leans back in her chair and tsks. “You exaggerate, milord. Ismae has been well trained in all things, including how to act as a man’s mistress.”
Clearly now will not be a good time to confess to playing truant during most of Sister Beatriz’s lessons.
“But more important,” Duval continues, "With the way things are at court, I cannot assure her protection.”
“I do not need protection,” I say, offended at such a suggestion.
“No, she does not,” the abbess agrees. “She merely needs an opportunity to act.”
“You would leave such life-and-death decisions to a novice?”
“Of course not,” Reverend Mother snaps. "We leave such life-and-death decisions in the hands of Mortain, where they belong.” She turns to me. “You’ll leave with Duval within the hour. Go pack a small bag to take with you. we’ll have the rest of your things sent to his residence in Guérande. You may go.”
Dizzy at the speed with which my world has been turned upside down, I stall, trying to think of one last argument I can make. I have joined the convent to withdraw from the world of men, not to be thrust upon the mercy of one.
The abbess leans across her desk. “Have you forgotten your vow for complete and unyielding obedience in all things?” she asks in a low voice. “You are but a novice. You still have much proving to do before you can take your final vows.”
I swallow my remaining protests and go to my room to pack.
Chapter Ten
Before I finish packing, there is a knock at my door. when the reverend mother walks in, I am stunned into silence. She has never visited my quarters before.