Free Lady Fortune by Anne Stuart Page B

for you, my lady,” he said in a raspy voice, looking less than pleased. “I’m to bring you to him before I can see to my master.”
    “Your master is fine, Bogo,” she said. “He’s just been enjoying the benefits of a cooling bath.”
    She’d expected to confound him. Instead the ugly face curved into a surprisingly gleeful smile. “What did you do to him, my lady? Whatever it was, it was way overdue, to my way of thinking. You’ll be good for him.”
    “Good for him!” she echoed in shock. “I won’t have anything to do with him!” Before Isabeau could ask any difficult questions, such as why her daughter would have been alone with the fool, Julianna rushed on. “And we can find our way to the abbot’s chambers on our own— you can see to Master Nicholas.”
    “Sounds like you’ve already seen to him,” Bogo chortled. He glanced past Julianna to Lady Isabeau, and his manner changed subtly. “Do you need my help, Lady Isabeau?”
    She smiled up at him, in the smile that enchanted all men, Julianna thought. There were times when she would have given anything to have her mother’s beguiling smile, her ability to turn men into slaves with nothing more than a soft word and a friendly glance—before she realized that she wanted no slaves, male or otherwise. She just wanted to be left alone.
    “We’ll be fine, Bogo,” Isabeau murmured. “Father Paulus will be hearing confession in the large chapel, will he not? I know it well—I’ve spent many hours in private meditation within its gentle walls.”
    “Meditating on your sins?” Julianna muttered. Hating herself for her pettiness, unable to keep her unruly tongue still.
    Isabeau turned her serene smile on her daughter. “Unlike you, my dear, I am far from blameless.” She rose, setting her needlework on the wooden chair behind her. “Shall we go? The sooner we confess our sins, the sooner we’ll be shriven. And of course, it should only take a moment for you.”
    Julianna bit her lip. Isabeau’s gentle voice made her feel like a spoiled child, crying for the moon. But then, she hadn’t wanted the moon. She’d only wanted her mother.
    “Indeed,” she said.
    She followed her mother’s slight figure down the shadowy stone halls of Fortham Castle , wishing she could move with her mother’s effortless grace. She tried to concentrate on other things, on the fortress-like surroundings, seemingly devoid of a woman’s touch, the chill of autumn settling down around the stones, the quiet sound of her mother’s footsteps as she made her way down the circular stairs. The trip to the spacious chapel seemed to take forever, and Julianna was yawning by the time they reached their destination.
    The abbot was awaiting them, an impatient expression on his round, colorless face, a petulant twist to his thin mouth. He was a small, soft man, seemingly harmless. But she’d seen what harm those small, soft hands could do, and she didn’t make the mistake of underestimating him.
    “Daughters of Eve!” he greeted them in a loud voice. “Prostrate yourselves and hear your penance.”
    “Father Paulus…” Lady Isabeau protested gently. “We haven’t made our confession yet.”
    “Don’t dare to instruct me, my lady! The Lord has spoken to me, sent me to this wicked place, and I will brook no defiance. If you wish forgiveness for your many sins, you will prostrate yourself now, in full view of all who come here.”
    To Julianna’s horror, her mother dropped to her knees, then stretched herself out on the hard stone floor of the chapel in an attitude of devout penance. Father Paulus fixed his beady eyes on Julianna. “On the ground, lady, or I’ll have servants force you there.”
    Julianna had her doubts that he could exert that much influence, but she decided not to take a chance. She lay facedown on the stone floor, near her mother, breathing in the chill of the stone beneath her face.
    “You know your own wickedness!” Father Paulus intoned