The White Queen of Middleham: An historical novel about Richard III's wife Anne Neville (Sprigs of Broom Book 1) by Nickell Lesley

Author:Nickell, Lesley [Nickell, Lesley]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Mereo
Published: 2014-11-19T16:00:00+00:00

5: THE AWAKENING

He had gone when she woke, and as usual she sought to burrow back into her slumber and recapture her dream before the crude call of morning. An angelic dream, she thought

hazily, wholesome and kindly, unlike the wild thrilling visions of before... and she sank into sleep again. Consciousness drifted back with a sense of something lacking. No furtive scrabblings of insects, no rustling of straw, no shivering; and no summons. She opened her eyes on the familiar wreaths of intrusive fog, but it was daylight, and an old man was sitting there, a frill of white hair round his shaven red crown. Instead of shaking her and shouting he smiled at her. So long since anyone had smiled at her, she hardly knew what it meant. But it meant that miraculously she was left in her bed to doze. Then there was a gentle arm about her shoulders, urging her to lift her head, and a spoonful of hot broth pressed to her lips. The aroma almost made her retch after long fasting, but with kindly insistence she was made to swallow it, and two spoonfuls more. The monk said, ‘Rest now, my child,’ and she understood the soothing tone of the voice though not the words.

She slept and slept, waking only to take a little broth or curds from the same elderly monk. And gradually the uneasiness in her mind, the fearful waiting for a command to rise and be about her business, was lulled into restfulness. On the beams above her head, sometimes an insipid patch of sunlight would appear, and drowsily, between naps, she would mark its journey across the ceiling, humping adroitly over the rafters in its path, and disappearing just as her nurse brought her midday broth. She grew quite interested in it, and missed it on the days when the sun did not shine. Many days of sunshine, and more without, passed before she began to wonder where she was. It was far simpler to let be, not to question for fear of disturbing the miraculous peace. The old man who tended her spoke seldom, finding that he could convey more with smiles and gentleness. Even on the occasions when she could not keep down her minute food helpings, he would smile patiently, clean her up, and try to make her take more. They had exchanged barely a score of words when she summoned the strength to ask, ‘What is this place?’

‘You are in the sanctuary of St Martin-le-Grand, my daughter.’ She had none of the hardihood necessary for the next step; if that cloudy memory proved to be part of her sleep all this goodness would be in vain; she might as well go back to her scrubbing and have done. But in his mercy the old monk anticipated her. ‘His grace of Gloucester left you in our keeping. He gave very particular instructions about your care - forgetting perhaps that we would do as much for any of God’s children under our rule of charity.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.