An Uncertain Choice(8)

Even though I’d struggled through the questions and tried to make peace with them, there were still times that I wanted to discover more, to shed light on the truth.

Did the duke have more answers?

He smoothed his hands around one of mine and I settled back on my heels to listen to him. “Your parents were always very much in love with each other. And so it was easy during the first years of their marriage to ignore the fact that they weren’t welcoming a new baby into their home. But as time passed, the emptiness of your mother’s womb moved into their hearts.”

His voice was soft, and his eyes had taken on a faraway look. “They wanted a child of their own very badly. And at last they became so desperate that they went to the convent and begged Abbot Francis Michael to pray for them . . . and to give them a Tear of the Virgin Mary.”

My pulse pattered with a strange rush that happened whenever I heard the story. The Tears of the Virgin Mary were very special. Whenever they were given for medicinal purposes, a miracle always seemed to happen. But they were also extremely rare and used only sparingly.

“As everyone knows, a Tear comes with a price,” the duke said. “And in the case of infertility, the price is always the Ancient Vow of Hannah, the consecration of the firstborn child to God for a life of service to him.”

The duke’s story was exactly the same as the one I’d heard four years earlier, yet I bowed my head and pressed a hand against my stomach in an attempt to calm the turmoil. Even though it had come as a shock and even though it had taken time, I’d finally accepted my destiny. I had no desire to question things now. “The Ancient Vow is unbreakable, unalterable. It must be fulfilled upon punishment of death. How can there be an exception?”

“After your parents died, I suspected that there was more to the Vow than they’d told any of us. I meant to investigate sooner, but the border wars kept me away longer than I’d anticipated.” He reached into a pouch at his side and retrieved a rolled parchment. “Two months ago, I sent orders to my wisest scribes to have them search the ancient texts to discover if there were any exceptions to the Vow. Day and night, they did not stop reading until they finally located something.”

Carefully, he unrolled the stiff, yellowed paper. “The one exception to the Ancient Vow is listed here.” He pointed at a line of faded, handwritten text.

I read the words that were as exactly as he’d explained — that anyone bound by the Ancient Vow of Hannah could be freed from a life of celibacy and service to God if he or she found true love and entered the holy covenant of marriage by the age of eighteen. For long moments, I sat silently, trying to digest the facts. But it was all too much to try to grasp after resigning myself to a life of singleness. After Thomas left, I’d never again courted. I’d never mingled with men. I’d never even spoken to eligible young gentlemen. What would have been the purpose?

Now, with exactly one month until my eighteenth birthday, what hope did I have of finding true love and getting married? It was a ludicrous notion. The only man I’d ever briefly cared about was already married. There were no other prospects.

“I cannot consider the exception,” I finally said, lifting my face and speaking to the duke with all the earnestness I could muster. “I’ve already accepted that God wants me to go to the convent.”

“I’m not convinced God wants you to lock yourself away and become a nun,” the duke said slowly. “But at least we have a month left to determine his will in the matter.”

“What difference will a month make, your Grace?” I rose, resignation coming easily to me.

“One month may not be long enough.” The duke stood too. “But we shall pray that it’s time enough to fall in love.”

I gave a soft laugh. “Even if a month was sufficient time for falling in love — ?which it is not — ?I have no suitors. There haven’t been any in years.”


“’Tis no matter,” he replied. “For I have brought you three of the finest knights in all the realm. They’ve proven themselves to be the strongest, bravest, most accomplished warriors.”

Surprise and then embarrassment sifted through me. I couldn’t keep from glancing outside to the knights now tending to their belongings. Even through their layers of armor, a certain nobility set them apart from the others. What would it be like to actually have a conversation with such a man and receive his romantic attentions?

Warmth curled through me. But I quickly shook my head. “Why would I have reason to break my heart or that of another if I’m destined to become a nun?”

“You aren’t destined.”

“Then why didn’t the abbot tell me of this exception?”

“It’s likely he didn’t know.”

At the mention of the abbot, my wise counselor burst through the open front doors at a run, his plain habit flapping behind him like wings. He was breathing hard, and his bald spot glistened with sweat. The narrow line of gray hair that ringed his head was damp.

For a moment, I could only blink in surprise. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever seen the abbot run. He always moved at the slowest, most devote speed — ?a pace he required of all his monks, a pace he claimed facilitated prayer and reflection on God. Whatever had happened to cause such uncharacteristic haste? Had he run all the way from the walled convent that sat on a hilltop a short distance from the town?