Whiter than the Lily Read Online Free PDF Page B

straight away; it was as if they were all silently acknowledging Ambrose’s right to order matters as he saw fit, without comment or protest from anyone else. Then Josse cleared his throat and said, ‘We shall meet at the Abbey in due course, then, my lord, since I am eager to speak to the Abbess concerning the – concerning this business that presses on us all.’
    Galiena shot him a quick smile. Ambrose, who appeared not to see, merely nodded and said, ‘Very well. Let us pray that all our purposes there will meet with success.’
    Josse was offered hospitality at Ryemarsh overnight, which he accepted. There was little point in riding away only to have to return in the morning to escort Galiena to New Winnowlands. He took a bite of supper with his host and hostess early in the evening – Brice had already left for home – and soon after they had eaten, Ambrose and Galiena retired to their own chamber.
    Josse went out into the soft twilight to take a last turn around Galiena’s garden. Bats were flying, swooping in elaborate circles as they pounced on blundering insects. Up above the darkening sky was clear, still faintly tinged with a deep orange band of light in the west. In the east the stars were appearing; Josse let his eyes roam around the sky until he found the great summer constellation that men called the Swan. The scent of flowers was strong; Josse, his head reeling, felt as if he had drunk strong wine.
    He turned back towards the house and, making hisway up a narrow stair, settled down in the luxury of Ambrose’s guest chamber. He stood at the window as he unfastened his tunic, looking out over the starlit garden. All was quiet, all was still. But – what was that? Peering into the night, he saw a movement in the shadows and watched as a cloaked figure slipped light-footed away from the house.
    Despite his curiosity, Josse turned his back on the window and strode resolutely across to the bed. If Galiena chose to have one more attempt to bring about through her own efforts the thing that she and her husband so dearly wanted, then that was entirely up to her. Josse had no right either to pass judgement or, far more importantly, to spy on her. Fighting to banish the seductive images from his mind – naked under the moonlight – he screwed up his eyes and violently shook his head.
    There were crisp linen sheets on his soft bed and, as he moved, they rustled and gave off a faint scent of lavender. Well fed, with the taste of his host’s excellent wine still in his mouth, he was warm and comfortable. Soon he was sound asleep.
    Dickon was waiting for them in the courtyard in the morning; it was he who had greeted Josse and Brice on their arrival the previous day. He was a sturdy young man who looked, Josse thought, as if he could handle himself in a fight. He had the horses groomed and ready, with Galiena’s and her maid’s small packs attached to their mounts’ saddles, when the party came out of the hall. Galiena was sombrelydressed in a light travelling cloak of dark blue wool, its deep hood pulled up over her white veil and all but hiding her face. She looked pale, as if she had not slept well, and she seemed tense. There is much at stake for her in this, Josse thought compassionately. He watched as Ambrose helped her into the saddle; the older man said something quietly to her and she gave him a brief smile.
    The maid, Aebba, turned out to be a dour woman in early middle age. Like her mistress, she too looked as if she had not slept well, or perhaps the sour, disgruntled expression was the one that she usually wore. She was tall and strongly built, with a pallid and slightly greasy complexion. Her hair was completely hidden by a linen veil that was arranged so as to shade her face and a close-fitting wimple covered her chin and throat. Her eyes – of a shade somewhere between ice blue and palest green – were the most colourless that Josse had ever seen. She did not speak as she mounted her mare and