Brother Cadfael 04: St. Peter's Fair

upon her with interest and pleasure. Other young men, too, of less green years ...
    She rose from her knees at last, shook out her crumpled skirts, and walked briskly out of the chapel into the nave of the church, and founding the clustered stone pillars at the corner of the crossing, came face to face with Ivo Corbiere.
    He had been waiting, silent and motionless, in his shadowy corner, refraining even from setting foot in the chapel until her vigil was over, and the resolution with which she had suddenly ended it flung her almost into his arms. She uttered a startled gasp, and he put out reassuring hands to steady her, and was in no haste to let go. In this dim place his gold head showed darkened to bronze, and his face, stooped over her solicitously, was so gilded by the summer that it had almost the same fine-metal burnishing.
    "Did I alarm you? I'm sorry! I didn't want to disturb you. They told me at the gatehouse that the master-carpenter had come and gone, and you were here. I hoped if I waited patiently I might be able to talk with you. If I have not pressed my attentions on you until now," he said earnestly, "it is not because I haven't thought of you. Constantly!"
    Her eyes were raised to his face with a fascinated admiration she would never have indulged in full light, and she quite forgot to make any move to withdraw herself from his hold. His hands slid down her forearms, but halted at her hands, and the touch, by mutual consent, became a clasp.
    "Almost two days since I've spoken with you!" he said. "It's an age, and I've grudged it, but you were well-friended, and I had no right ... But now that I have you, let me keep you for an hour! Come out and walk in the gardens. I doubt if you've even seen them yet."
    They went out together into the sunlight, through the cloister garth and out into the bustle and traffic of the great court. It was almost time for Vespers, the quietest hours of the afternoon now spent, the brothers gathering gradually from their dispersed labours, guests returning from the fairground and the riverside. It was a gratifying thing to walk through this populous place on the arm of a nobleman, lord of a modest honour scattered through Cheshire and Shropshire. For the daughter of craftsmen and merchants, a very gratifying thing! They sat down on a stone bench in the flower-garden, on the sunny side of the pleached hedge, with the heady fragrance of Brother Cadfael's herbarium wafted to them in drunken eddies on a soft breeze.
    "You will have troublesome dispositions to make," said Corbiere seriously. "If there is anything I can arrange for you, let me know of it. It will be my pleasure to serve you. You are taking him back to Bristol for burial?"
    "It's what he would have wished. There will be a Mass for him in the morning, and then we shall carry him back to his barge for the journey home. The brothers have been kindness itself to me."
    "And you? Will you also return with the barge?"
    She hesitated, but why not confide in him? He was considerate and kind, and quick to understand. "No, it would be - unwise. While my uncle lived it was very well, but without him it would not do. There is one of our men - I must say no evil of him, for he has done none, but ... He is too fond. Better we should not travel together. But neither do I want to offer him insult, by letting him know he is not quite trusted. I've told him that I must remain here a few days, that I may be needed if the sheriff has more questions to ask, or more is found out about my uncle's death."
    "But then," said Ivo with warm concern, "what of your own journey home? How will you manage?"
    "I shall stay with Lady Beringar until we can find some safe party riding south, with women among them. Hugh Beringar will advise me. I have money, and I can pay my way. I shall manage."
    He looked at her long and earnestly, until his gravity melted into a smile. "Between all your well-wishers, you will certainly reach your home without mishap. I'll be giving my mind to it, among the rest. But now let's forget, for my sake, that there must be a departure, and make the most of the hours while you are still here." He rose, and took her by the hand to draw her up with him. "Forget Vespers, forget we're guests of an abbey, forget the fair and the business of the fair, and all that such things may demand of you in future. Think only that it's summer, and a glorious evening, and you're young, and have friends ... Come down with me past the