Free Tyrant of the Mind by Priscilla Royal

She is doing this out of sheer spite.”
    “How so?” Eleanor asked. Her voice suggested greater calm than she felt.
    “Because I married after her mother’s death. You know the pettiness of women, my lady.” His cheeks began to pale after the red flush of rage. “You are prioress over…how many is it now?” He sat back in his chair, the lines of his face sagging into the look of a very weary man.
    “I, too, am a simple woman, my lord, and would benefit from your instruction.” Eleanor cut to the chase. “Death does not often allow us the joy of having our own dear mother or father guide and protect us for the years we might wish, and we are thus accustomed to the remarriage of our parents. Please explain, therefore, why your daughter would wish to spite you so?”
    Sir Geoffrey looked heavenward as if seeking guidance, then closed his eyes as if he did not care much for the response.
    Eleanor waited. She found herself grieving over the change in her father’s old comrade-in-arms. Once this man had been eager to bend his back and play horse to any child who wanted a ride. Once he had been a man who glowed like a young lover whenever his wife came into view. Now he was an old man, his eyes dull, hair lank, and his shoulders curved inward with whatever burdened him. Finally, with a soft voice, she continued. “In truth, the Juliana I remember from my youth was not malicious. Your daughter and now lady wife were as sisters. I would have expected Juliana to feel joy, both for her friend’s happiness at a fine marriage and her own good fortune in having the Lady Isabelle a permanent member of the Lavenham family from whom she need not be long parted.”
    “Isabelle was her friend. That is true. Once they were like sisters, but when my beloved wife died…” Sir Geoffrey closed his mouth and turned his face away. His silence continued, stubborn and impenetrable.
    Was there a connection between his wife’s death and the current discord between the young women? Eleanor glanced at her father, but he refused to meet her eyes. Apparently, he had chosen to stand with Sir Geoffrey in protecting whatever secrets his friend wished to keep. She felt a short burst of anger. Had he forgotten all the fine words he had spoken earlier that morning? Had she so quickly and easily lost the ground she thought she had won with him? Or did all fathers forget that their daughters forfeited the innocence of Eden when they became wives, mothers, and, indeed, prioresses?
    Whatever the cause, she decided there would be no way she could help resolve the situation if she honored such foolishness. With a deep breath, she turned back to Sir Geoffrey. “You were saying that something happened after your first wife died, my lord?”
    He blinked as if surprised at her question, then coughed. “Let it suffice to say that a man must be married, Lady Eleanor. I had no wife, you see, and I was young enough to father more children. Marrying Isabelle would give me wife, babes, and the lands which our family had preserved for her until she married.”
    “A wise alliance,” Adam added, this time giving Eleanor a look she interpreted as a clear warning not to pursue her questions. Given his own recently stated misgivings to her over his friend’s new marriage, this remark was quite diplomatic. It was also a blatant lie. She chose to ignore his hint.
    “Indeed. More good reasons for your daughter to celebrate your marriage,” she said. “Perhaps the Lady Isabelle was shy about the wedding night? Many women are and that might have caused some concern to Juliana.”
    “Nay, the lass was willing, willing enough that she soon quickened with child. I knew it would be a good alliance with the lands, but, well, with the babe coming, I felt double joy. My daughter should have shared our happiness, but God gave me an unnatural child. Indeed she begged that I not marry her friend.”
    It was interesting, Eleanor thought, that he had avoided saying the child