THREE

The new priest gave a short, sharp sermon about obedience to the Rule of St Benedict, ‘Now reformed and clarified by the writings of Bernard of Clairvaux – bless his soul,’ he added, making Hildegard purse her lips.

She had a soft spot for the famed lovers – the nun Eloise and the monk Abelard – how could she not with Hubert de Courcy just down the lane? She considered Bernard’s treatment of the renegade monk barbaric – castration? For falling in love with a soul-mate? – but her wandering thoughts returned to the young priest as he continued, unaware how his words were being received.

He was at pains, no doubt after the Prioress’s instructions, to point out that it behoved them to carry out their duties to their Order, to their Prioress, to their fellow companions, nuns, novices and secular workers alike, and to the lord of all whom they served – with no complaints and good hearts. He glared round at everyone as if searching out any hint of dissent.

With his unruly black curls frilling round his tonsure belying the expression in his eyes of unbending reproof – eyes which were darkly piercing and seemed to probe deep into the souls of his listeners in a most intimate manner – he launched deeper and more vigorously into the realms of rhetoric with further probings into their purpose here on earth and whether they were intended for any other reason than to submit— She jerked awake. Submit? She picked up the thread and forced herself to listen more carefully to the very end.

Afterwards the fourteen nuns and an assortment of novices filed out in a strangely chastened manner like women shaken to the core except for Bella or was it Rogella? Whichever one it was she gave a swift glance at her twin under her eyelids and bit her bottom lip as if to suppress a gale of mirth and when she noticed Hildegard catch this glance she bent her head, pulled up her hood in as demure a manner as possible and mingled in among the others to seek cover.

Later, noticing Hildegard heaving a few logs out of the basket into the stove in the warming room, one of the twins went to help.

‘That poor young monk,’ she murmured in a syrupy tone. ‘Imagine being a priest here. Is he going to have to ride back alone through the woods to Meaux in all this rain?’

‘I expect he’s used to it by now.’ Hildegard shrugged and wiped her hands on a cloth. ‘No doubt he’d stay here if he could.’

‘What? Have a man in the priory! Whatever next, domina!’ She gave a tinkling laugh as if shocked by such a thought. ‘I see Josiana doesn’t care about the threat of floods.’ She added on a note of longing, ‘She’s already left for Haltemprice Priory to see those Austin friars.’

‘Did she take anyone with her?’

‘One of the lay-sisters, I believe.’ She paused and added, scarcely audibly, ‘Being obedient as she is, would she do otherwise?’

‘Rogella—’ began Hildegard but the girl giggled. ‘I’m not Rogella, domina. I’m Bella.’

‘Forgive me—’

‘It’s always happening.’

Hildegard noticed the way she exchanged glances with her twin on the other side of the chamber as if some thought had flashed between them.

‘It must be strange to see someone identical to yourself, like looking into a mirror,’ she remarked, thinking, there is a difference – is it the shape of their eyebrows? – though it doesn’t help in deciding who is who. And they also walk slightly differently, Bella, or was it Rogella, being lighter on her feet – but how could she really tell which was which – this one could be Rogella, having a laugh. No wonder they drove their nursemaids away.

‘You must have had a lot of fun swapping places when you were children?’ she remarked.

‘That’d be telling, domina. Would we seek to deceive? Us?’

Hildegard couldn’t help smiling.