"Nigel need not say outright that he is the father. Let them think it, but he need not say it. The girls have a legal father. Nigel need only claim the interest of a friend to the child who has converted to Christianity, as he was a guardian to her sister before her, her sister who waits in Paris for Lea, the new convert, to return."
He was deeply absorbed in what I was saying. I knew he was thinking of the many aspects. The girls, as converts, might be excommunicated and thereby lose their fortune. Fluria had spoken of this. But I could still see a passionate Rosa, pretending to be an indignant Lea, and pushing back the forces that threatened the Jewry, and no one in Norwich surely would have the gall to demand that the other twin come there as well.
"Don't you see?" I said. "It's a tale that accommodates everything."
"Yes, very elegant," he answered, but he was still thinking.
"It explains why Lea left. Lady Margaret's influence did make her accept the Christian faith. And so she sought to be with her Christian sister. Lord knows, everyone in England and France wants to convert the Jewish tribe to Christianity. And it is a simple matter to explain that Meir and Fluria have been most mysterious about all this because to them it is a double disgrace. As for you and your brother, you are the patrons of the newly converted twins. It's all very plain in my mind."
"I see it all," he said slowly.
"Do you believe that Rosa can impersonate her sister, Lea?" I asked. "Do you believe that she can do such a thing? Will your brother lend a hand? As for Rosa's willingness to try it, do you have any idea?"
He thought on this for a long moment, and then he said simply that we had to go to Rosa now this very evening, though it was late and obviously getting dark.
When I looked through the little window of the cell, I saw only darkness, but that might have been the thickness of the snow.
Again, he sat down and applied himself to writing a letter. And he read it aloud to me as he wrote.
"Beloved Nigel, I am in great need of you, for Fluria and Meir, my beloved friends, and the friends of my daughters, are in grave danger, due to recent events, which I cannot explain here but will confide in you as soon as we meet. I ask that you go at once to wait for me in the town of Norwich, where I am now heading this very night. And that you present yourself there to the Lord Sherriff, who holds many Jews in the castle tower for their protection, and you make known to the Lord Sherriff that you are well acquainted with the Jews in question, and that you are the guardian of their two daughters--Lea and Rosa--who have become Christian and now live in Paris, under the guidance of Br. Godwin, their godfather, and their devoted friend. Please understand that the inhabitants of Norwich are not aware that Meir and Fluria had two children, and they are very much perplexed as to why the one child whom they knew has left the town.
"Insist to the Lord Sherriff that he keep this matter secret until I can meet you and explain further why these actions must be undertaken now."
"Splendid," I said. "Do you think your brother will do it?"
"My brother will do anything for me," he said. "He's a kindly and loving man. I would say more if I thought that such a letter might not fall into the wrong hands."
Once again he blotted his many sentences, and his signature, folded the letter, sealed it with wax, and then he rose, bidding me to wait, and went out of the room.
He was gone for some time.
It struck me as I looked around the little room, with its scent of ink and old paper, its scent of leather book binding and burning coals, that I could spend my whole life here happily, and that, in fact, I was living a life now so superior to anything that I'd ever lived before that I almost wanted to cry.
But this was no time to think of myself.
When he returned, he was out of breath and somewhat relieved.
"The letter will go out tomorrow morning, and make much greater progress than we will make, on its way to England, as I've sent it care of the Bishop who presides over St. Aldate's, and the manor house of my brother, and he will deliver the letter into Nigel's hands."
He looked at me and once again the tears came up in his eyes. "I could not have done this alone," he said gratefully.
He removed his mantle from the peg, and mine as well, and we dressed for the snow outside. He started to wrap his hands again with the rags that he'd laid to the side, but I reached into my pockets whispering a prayer and drew out two pairs of gloves.
"Thank you, Malchiah!"
He looked at the gloves, but then, with a nod, took the pair I offered and put them on. I could see he didn't like the fine leather or the fur trim, but he knew that we had work that we had to do. "Now, we go to see Rosa," he said, "and tell her what she already knows, and ask her what she wishes to do. If she refuses this task, or feels she cannot do it, we will go to testify in Norwich on our own."
He paused. He whispered, "Testify," and I knew he was troubled now by the amount of lies involved.
"Never mind it," I said. "There will be bloodshed if we don't do this. And these good people, who have done nothing, will die."
He nodded and out we went.
A boy with a lantern, who looked very much like a heap of wool garments, waited for us outside, and Godwin said we would go to the convent where Rosa lived.
We were soon hurrying through the darkened streets, passing an occasional noisy tavern door, but generally groping our way behind the boy who held the lantern, and a heavy snow had begun to fall.
Chapter Fourteen - Rosa
THE CONVENT OFOURLADY OF THEANGELS WAS VAST,solid, and lavishly appointed. The immense room in which we greeted Rosa was more expensively and beautifully furnished than any room I'd yet seen. The fire was immediately fed and raked for us, and two young nuns, heavily covered in linen and wool, set out bread and wine on the long table. There were numerous tufted stools, and the most spectacular tapestries everywhere that I'd yet observed. Tapestries had been laid down over the polished pavers of the floor.
Candles blazed in many sconces, and large diamond-paned windows caught the reflection of the lights beautifully in their thick glass.
The Abbess, an impressive woman of obvious and easy authority, was clearly devoted to Godwin, and left us at once to whatever it was we had to say.
As for Rosa, clad in a white robe and beneath it a thick white tunic which might have been her nightgown, she was the image of her mother, except for her startling blue eyes.
For a moment it was shocking to me to see the coloring of the mother with the vibrancy of the father in her face. Indeed her eyes were so like Godwin's as to be continually unnerving.