She tried not to let Maud’s words wound her. “It’s true that I may seem not to have any reason to be happy, but I’ve been reading the Holy Scriptures and I’ve learned much about God’s faithfulness.” Annabel’s breath came fast, even though she and Maud were walking slowly, far behind the other maids. She couldn’t contain the smile on her face, even when Maud’s scowl deepened, her eyebrows low and threatening.
“Is that what you do in the upper hall for an hour every night, just you and Lord le Wyse? I knew you were different, strange and all that, but you sound mad. What makes you think you can read the Bible? Don’t you know you’re not supposed to be thinking … I don’t know … that you know something about God?” She said God as though He were a fairy tale or an unwanted relative. “Nobody wants to hear that kind of talk, Annabel Chapman.” She stuck her finger into Annabel’s chest. “You’re just a woman. You’re no priest, and you don’t know God, so just shut your mouth.”
Maud stalked away, leaving Annabel staring after her.
She walked slowly, following far behind Maud’s stiff figure. Then she saw Stephen up ahead by the side of the road, apparently waiting for her.
“Hello, Stephen! How are you faring?”
“Lord le Wyse has been very pleased with the furniture I’m working on, and I’ve already finished the front door.”
“That is good news.” Should she tell him about reading Lord le Wyse’s Bible and of all the wonderful things she was learning? Or would he disapprove just as Maud had?
“Stephen, what would you say if I were reading the Holy Writ?” she asked.
Stephen stopped and smiled. “I’d be very happy for you, Annabel. That was always your dream, to read the Bible.”
Excitement bubbled inside her again. “Lord le Wyse has me read it to him. It’s wonderful to see the words of God.” She paused, thinking of Maud. “I think everybody in this village believes God only wants to punish us with plagues and curses and droughts. Don’t you think that’s sad?”
Stephen looked over at her. “Perhaps you could read the Scriptures to me sometime? I know it’s in Latin, but — “
“But I could interpret it for you! Oh, Stephen, would you want me to?”
“Yes, very much. You know what people will say, though, about a woman reading anything, and especially the Holy Writ.”
“Not everyone is so backward, Stephen. Lord le Wyse doesn’t mind at all. It’s good to read the Scriptures.”
Stephen shook his head. “I don’t suppose you can get in any trouble for it, as long as Lord le Wyse is asking you to do it.”
She wanted to tell him how much she enjoyed the conversations she had with Lord le Wyse when they read together, but she decided it was best not to mention that, even to Stephen.
Later that day Annabel and Mistress Eustacia sat resting with the sheep, who were grazing in the courtyard. Mistress Eustacia had brought a stool to sit on while she did some sewing in the daylight, but Annabel was content to sit on the grass and stare at the courtyard before her and the sky above her, letting her thoughts wander. The sun stayed hidden behind the clouds, but the birds chirped cheerfully and a slight breeze puffed at them occasionally. Annabel stroked one particularly friendly ewe lamb, who sighed as she munched her grass.
Annabel’s Sunday was not progressing quite as joyfully as it had begun. Maud’s reactions that morning made her feel like a warm fire that someone dumped a bucket of water on. Even Stephen had cautioned her that others might not approve of her reading the Bible.
Though Lord le Wyse obviously approved. And dwelling on his approval restored her warm, happy feeling.
Annabel affectionately rubbed the sheep’s head. Was anyone at home taking care of her goat, Dilly? The poor animal could mostly fend for herself, she reasoned, but if her lazy brothers didn’t milk Dilly, her supply would run dry. If my family didn’t need the goat so much, I would ask Lord le Wyse if Dilly could stay at the manor.
Before she could examine the thought further, movement and Beatrice’s high-pitched voice drew her attention to the manor steps. Lord le Wyse was a few steps behind Beatrice, who tripped and fell back into him. He caught her and set her up on her feet.
“Oh, my lord!” she said, louder than necessary. “My ankle. I don’t think I can walk. I must have injured it.”
Even from across the courtyard Annabel could see Beatrice’s face scrunched up in pain. Lord le Wyse put his good arm around her and helped her down the steps. Beatrice limped and leaned heavily on him.
Was Beatrice hurt? Or did she only want to be close to Lord le Wyse?