Free The Breath of Peace by Penelope Wilcock Page B

in winter cold, he supposed he should be grateful that he had somehow evaded this task from the day he entered monastic life – cleaning out the jakes had been a duty reserved exclusively for him through the years of his boyhood.
    Though the icy well-water shrivelled his skin and left him gasping at the shock of it against his body, William washed every inch of himself before he went in to eat at the end of the morning.
    As well as a compact round loaf still hot from the oven and a tiny cheese from the milk Marigold still produced, Madeleine had made a hearty pease pudding. Tasty with stock from poultry bones, onions fried in grease carefully caught as it dripped from roasting birds, marjoram dried in the long days of summer, and sage and rosemary fresh from the garden, it smelt aromatic and appetizing. William said their grace and sat down thankfully, tired and thirsty as well as hungry. Sometimes they drank well-water, but today Madeleine had served him ale. He made a mental note of this, said nothing but wondered why. They ate for a while in a silence that William’s mind probed cautiously.
    Madeleine tore some bread off the loaf in the middle of the table and reached for the butter.
    â€˜I thought I might go and visit my brother.’ She glanced up toward him, her face defensive. A woman did not leave her man to fend for himself, cook his own supper, manage the chores alone. Their homestead gave enough work and more than enough for two pairs of hands.
    She took in, with one sharp glance, William’s raised eyebrow and cautious nod, and interpreted this as a nascent objection.
    â€˜Well, I haven’t seen him since the day we were wed. I miss him. I’d not normally have let this long go by without a visit. It’s only because I married you. And I’d leave you some cheese made, and some bread baked, and you can cook eggs, can’t you? Surely you’d be all right by yourself for just a little while! I can walk if it’s that you don’t want me to take the horse.’
    She looked at her husband, who was observing her patiently.
    â€˜How long were you thinking of going?’
    â€˜Oh, for heaven’s sake! How hard can it be to look after a goat, a pig and a handful of chickens for a day or so? Not long, all right? I only wanted to see Adam!’ Scanning his face, she took for disapproval William’s momentary frown of bewilderment at the use of her brother’s childhood name from the days before he became John, his name in religion. ‘I meant no more than two nights! Surely you can –’
    â€˜Madeleine…’ He spoke quietly and reached across the table to touch her hand. ‘Stop. Please stop. Before I married you I would not have believed it possible for anyone to have an argument all by herself without a second person joining in, but it seems it is so.’
    â€˜I wasn’t arguing! William, you’re so unreasonable! That’s so unfair! I was simply explaining that –’
    â€˜I heard you. My love, I heard you. By all means go and visit John. And it wasn’t unreasonable to ask how long you’d be gone – was it? The only stipulation I have is that you promise me you can live with what my best efforts can achieve when you come back just as much as when you’re planning to go.’
    â€˜What’s that supposed to mean?’
    Her husband looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I might forget something vital. I might break something. I might burn something. I might let something die. I cannot swear to it that I will not, though I give you my word I will try my hardest to do everything just as you would wish. You can go if you promise me, on your honour – your honour, mark you, not mine, so we’re safe there – not to tear me to shreds and feed me to the chickens if you get home to discover I’ve got something wrong.’
    Madeleine stared at him in indignation. ‘William, that is so mean! You