“So you are betraying not only your brother but your own betrothed as well?”
Gabe’s heart sank. This conversation was not going well. He continued to measure out the string and cut it, the pile of wicks growing.
“How do you know Sophie loves you? She is very young. As are you, and it appears you have not known each other long. Perhaps you will both change your minds.”
Was Bartel right? Didn’t she deserve to marry the good brother? The one who always did everything right, who was admired and respected, who would inherit wealth and power? The one she was supposed to marry?
Gabe stopped his work and stared at Bartel. What could he say? The more he defended himself, the more foolish he would appear. But two things he knew: Sophie was not married, and his love for her was real. It would not die no matter how long he lived.
“You may ask her yourself,” he said softly.
“Have you asked her? Have you asked her if she prefers to marry you and not your brother?”
“Not in so many words.” He wasn’t sure how much longer his patience and self-control would hold out. He felt like hitting this cold, self-righteous monk.
Not a very Christian thought.
“How do you plan to break your betrothals? Will you tell your betrothed, ‘I’m sorry, but I fell in love with someone else. Can you and your father kindly let me out of our agreement, on which I and my parents staked our good name?’ ”
Actually, that was very close to his plan. “There will be a way. Sophie’s parents are dead so they can’t complain. My parents and brother will agree.” They won’t like it, but they’ll eventually agree when they see that Sophie loves me and that I love her, and how she has changed me. Sophie had done what all his parents’ cajoling and his older brother’s goading had been unable to do. She had made him want to be responsible, made him want to make his own way in the world and have a family.
“My betrothal was not written down or blessed by a priest,” he added.
Bartel gave him another hard, long look. “So you feel comfortable breaking it for that reason?”
Gabe glared back at him, then looked away, not wanting to have hatred of a monk on his conscience — along with all his other sins.
“I am not trying to anger you, Gabe. I only want to make sure you’ve thought these things through and asked God what he would want you to do. You must think about whether you are doing the right thing for Sophie.”
A physical pang went through his chest as Bartel continued cutting the string into the correct length, looking as tranquil as a woodland pond.
Was Gabe doing the right thing for Sophie? How could Bartel know this was the very thing that plagued him, that stirred guilt inside him?
Perhaps he was being selfish, but he simply could not bear to lose her.
Gabe continued working, pretending to ignore Bartel’s words.
“You say Sophie’s parents are dead.” Bartel cut two more strings before continuing. “But her father is not dead. He is alive.”
Gabe laid down the string. “What did you say?”
“Sophie’s father lives.”
Chapter 21
“Where? How?” Gabe stared at the monk sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “Her father is Duke Baldewin. Are you telling me Duke Baldewin is alive?”
“I am.”
Gabe clenched his teeth again at the monk’s reticence. “How do you know this? And where is he?”
“I know it because he lives at Gemeinhart Monastery, where I lived for ten years before I came here.”
“If Sophie’s father is alive, then why did he leave her all alone with the evil duchess? No father could be that cruel.”
“He thought she was dead. Everyone believed she was dead, including me. In fact, how do you know this woman, Sophie, is his daughter? I admit she looks like she could be his daughter, but do you have proof?” Bartel unraveled the spool a bit more and snipped off another wick.
“Well, no. Though Petra the cook, who was there when Duke Baldewin was still there, says she is. The duchess also told me Sophie was the duke’s daughter.”
“Duke Baldewin told me he came home from a trip to find his daughter lying dead in a casket. Supposedly dead of a fever at two years old. He left without a word to anyone and came to the monastery. The duchess then told everybody he was dead as well.”
Gabe stared at the flickering candles that were casting light and shadow on the picture of Mary and Jesus. He wasn’t even seeing the candles or the picture when Bartel spoke again.
“If she is Duke Baldewin’s daughter, he needs to know that she’s alive and try to validate her parentage himself. The duchess may have lied about this scullery maid being the duke’s daughter as part of a sick ruse. His daughter may truly be dead.”