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I’m grateful for your kind hospitality. However, Lady Kathryn, I am not just passing through. I have come on a mission. I have brought you a message from Father Abbot of Broomholm Abbey. He has a request to make of you.”
    â€œA request? From the abbot of Broomholm?”
    Had the priest stirred a hornet’s nest with his inquiry? Blackingham could not satisfy the greed of an abbeyful of monks.
    â€œHow can a poor widow serve the abbot of so esteemed a company of Benedictines?”
    â€œMy lady, you look quite pale. Please, sit.”
    He indicated the bench upon which he had been sitting. She sank down on it and he sat beside her.
    â€œPlease, don’t be distressed, Lady Kathryn. We heard through Father Ignatius that you desire friendship with our abbey. What Father Abbot and Prior John suggest will cost you little but will offer you a chance to serve our abbot in a profound way and ensure you and your household the friendship of our brotherhood.”
    The friendship of the brotherhood?
But it was unlikely she would be granted
gratis
that which she had falsely claimed.
    â€œPlease, Brother, tell me how my humble household may serve his lordship.”
    The Benedictine cleared his throat. “It is a simple matter, Lady Kathryn. Blackingham Hall has ever been known for its hospitality. With the death of Sir Roderick, I’m sure this tradition will continue. Therefore, our abbot and our prior feel that this request would not place too heavy a burden on your ladyship.”
    He paused for breath.
    â€œAnd what request might that be?” she asked, impatient for him to get beyond his rehearsed speech. “I hope I may not seem as slow to grant your request as you are to voice it.”
    The monk looked momentarily disconcerted. He cleared his throat and began his recital again. “As you know, my lady, we at Broomholm are blessed with many holy treasures, including a relic of the true cross on which our Lord suffered. However, we have few books of note. Father Abbot thinks that so esteemed an abbey should have at least one manuscript worthy of its glory, one to rival
The Book of Kells
or the
Lindisfarne Gospels.
We have a scriptorium and several monks who toil daily in copying the Holy Scriptures.”
    She nodded impatiently.
    â€œAlthough our brothers do a passing job as copyists and scribes, we have no illuminator of reputation to enhance our texts. It has come to our attention that a very gifted artisan would be willing to serve as illuminator for theGospel of Saint John, except that he is unwilling to attach himself to our abbey. It seems he has a young daughter of marriageable age”—here he laughed to ease the awkward moment—“well, your ladyship can see how lodgings in a company of monks would be unacceptable.”
    â€œCan the daughter not lodge with the nuns at Norwich or at Saint Faith Priory? ”
    The monk shook his head. “It seems the illuminator dotes upon her and will only undertake employment with us if we can provide suitable lodgings.”
    â€œAh, so your prior and your abbot think to attach the young woman to my household?”
    He hesitated just a moment before answering. “Not only the daughter, my lady, but the father as well.”
    â€œThe father? But—”
    â€œHe will do his work here, with your permission, so that he can be close to his daughter. Along with food, lodging, and the use of a horse, he will require but a small place with good light…” The monk must have sensed that she was about to plead the poverty of her newly widowed state, because he held up his hand to forestall her protests. “Along with his sincere appreciation, Father Abbot is willing to pay for their board and all expenses incurred. He would not wish to impose on a poor widow.”
    If only her head were clearer. Could this be the answer to the troublesome priest? If she did the abbey a favor, then she could in truth plead