Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 98745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
One thing that caught Leora’s attention was that all the nuns wore smiles, genuine not false smiles. They were content, which meant they enjoyed their life at the abbey. It was a stark contrast to Dundren Abbey and a relief to Leora.
A smile caught Leora when they stopped in front of the abbey, and she saw what hung on the abbey door… a beautifully and abundantly crafted ivy wreath. She wondered if whoever crafted it knew the significance of the ivy or could have it been done on purpose, a nod to the old beliefs that an ivy wreath warded off evil. Whatever the reason, it brought a welcoming smile to a visitor and that was what mattered.
The door opened and a woman stepped out, a generous smile on her lovely face that was sprinkled with wrinkles. She wore the garments of the other nuns, a light gray tunic, with a scapula. It was a long, wide cloth that rested on her shoulders, a section cut open for the head. Like the other nuns, she wore a wimple and veil. Unlike the other nuns a beautifully crafted wooden cross hung from a piece of rope around her neck. Her elegant stance alone let one know she was in charge.
“Noble, it is good to see you again.”
“And you, Mother Abbess,” he said with a respectful nod. I hope our unexpected arrival and our short stay is not an inconvenience to you.”
“Not at all. We welcome all travelers and those in need of care, which we have done for you and your men many times. And we most appreciate the more strenuous chores you and your men do when here,” Mother Abess said, then turned to Leora. “That is a minor wound you have on your head and while it appears well cared for, I would suggest another good cleaning. I also have a salve that would help it heal more quickly.”
“I would appreciate any help you can give me,” Leora said, finding the woman’s gentle tone comforting.
“You appeared to have traveled many days. You must be hungry and in need of rest. Food awaits all in the refectory and rooms will be prepared for you. Come and eat first, then we will see to your wound and a place for you to rest,” Mother Abess said and led the way into the abbey.
Quiet and a sense of peace welcomed Leora as they walked through the stone abbey. One could see that no price had been spared in building the place. Someone had given generously to the abbey through the years, and she surmised it was Clan Ravinsher that did so. She was about to ask when Mother Abbess turned to enter a room, and she and Noble followed.
The refectory even more so confirmed that a benefactor had been generous. The long hall with its numerous long tables and benches was not only arranged to foster a sense of community but also an intimate meeting place for powerful men to meet secretly and plot battles that would topple enemies and grow their wealth and power. Though she noticed there was no dais where high-ranking members of the abbey might sit, which meant Mother Abbess did not believe in a hierarchy here at the abbey. She believed herself equal to her fellow nuns.
“Please sit, eat, and rest,” Mother Abbess said, pointing to a table. “I have a matter I must attend to and will return shortly.” With a nod and pleasant smile, she took her leave.
Leora was surprised when they were seated near the large fireplace that burnt low to ward off the chill of the stone walls that often lingered even in late spring and summer. She could hold her tongue no longer, her curiosity poking at her.
“Whitehall Abbey must have a generous benefactor that the refectory is blessed with a fireplace. Most monasteries only have a warming room,” she said, something she had learned when at Dundren Abbey. “Could it be the generosity of Clan Ravinsher?” If so, then that might mean Mother Abess knew something about Sky.
“I am not privy to that information, and you will not go asking,” Noble ordered. “It does not concern us.”
“Why not?” Leora asked with a scrunch of a brow and a slight cringe from the pain it caused, having forgotten about her wound.
Noble took his wife’s chin gently in his hand. “I have known some small wounds to be more painful than large ones. Pay heed to it until it heals.”
“I do,” she insisted.
“Not enough,” he argued, continuing to keep hold of her chin and thinking if he was not careful, he could get lost in her lovely green eyes, not to mention her luscious lips.
“It is minor and matters not,” she continued to protest, not able to take her eyes off the intensity she spotted in his deep blue eyes.