The Innocent Read Online Free PDF Page B

to him. "Dickon, I have come home to make you well again."
    Richard de Montfort’s gray eyes opened slowly. A bony hand gripped her arm. "Who are you?" he rasped.
    "It is I, Dickon. It is Elf," she said. "Your sister." Undoing the chin strap that held her wimple in place, she pulled the covering from her head so that he might see her hair. Then she smiled.
    "Elf," he said softly. "Is it really you? You have grown."
    "I would hope so, brother." She laughed. "It has been nine years since we last saw each other. I was but a little girl of five years, Dickon. I am now fourteen, and soon to take my vows, but Isleen sent for me, as you are gravely ill. I am the assistant infirmarian at the convent. Perhaps I can help you."
    He smiled back at her. "I am dying, Elf, and there is no help for me," he said. "When I am gone, sister, Ashlin will be yours."
    "But what of Isleen?" Elf asked him, astounded. "Isleen is your wife, Dickon. Ashlin should be hers, not mine."
    "Isleen’s dower portion will be restored, and she will be returned to the de Warennes," he told Elf. "Ashlin, by law, is yours. You have not taken your final vows yet, Elf. If you decide to, you may take a husband instead. Ashlin is small, but it is a respectable dower portion. Allow St. Frideswide’s to have the dowry I paid them when you went there. It is only fair. They have cared for and educated you all these years."
    "But I don't want a husband," Elf told her brother. "I am content to take my final vows, Dickon. Besides, I do not intend to allow you to die on me. I am an excellent herbalist. Tell me your symptoms. When did you begin to grow ill?"
    "Well over a year ago," he replied. "At first it was just my belly. It would take offense at some food or other, but in a day or so I would be well. Then, however, I became sick more and more. My guts began to burn with an unquenchable fire. I began to have bouts of weakness. I could not walk, or ride, or even stand. Then the sickness would go, and I would recover only to grow ill again. Now I can keep nothing on my belly, and as you can see, my hair and teeth have begun to fall out. Even I can tell that I am dying, Elf. I do not believe that you can help me, little sister."
    "I can try," she told him fervently. "I can try, Dickon!"
    "I cannot feel worse than I already do," he said with a wry smile.
    "Why do you have no children?" Elf asked him frankly.
    "It is Isleen," he replied, "although I dare not tell her, for it would break her heart. I have two sons and a daughter among the serfs, but you must not say I told you so. She believes because I am ill, it is my fault, but it is not. You will keep my secret, Elf, will you not? I have confessed my fault to you, and are you not bound by your vocation to keep the knowledge of my sins to yourself? God will judge me." He smiled weakly at her.
    She wondered why he had felt it necessary to seek among the serf girls. Still, it was not her business, she decided, pushing the thoughts from her head. "I will keep your secret, brother," she promised. "Now, you must sleep again while I ask Isleen to find me a place to set up my herbarium. If I am to help you, I cannot delay. Where is old Ida?"
    "She has not spoken to me since the day I took you away, nor has she set foot in this house."
    "I will find her," Elf told him, "and she will help me to get you well, Dickon." She arose from his side, and calling to a servant, asked, "Where is the lady of the manor?"
    "She is in her gardens, lady," the servant answered.
    "Take me to her," Elf said, "and then go find old Ida. Tell her I am home, and I need her aid."
    Elf followed the servant to the manor garden, where the roses were already in bloom. The garden was not as well kept as it had been in her mother’s day, she noted. At first she did not see her sister-in-law, but then she spied Isleen with her cousin, their heads together, seated on a wooden bench at the far end of the garden. Elf called to her as the servant accompanying her