Chapter 16 Where Have All the Flowers Gone?

   Upon arriving at home Lord Richard didn't feel very lion hearted.  He gave himself a moment, then stepped inside.

  "My Lord," Mother Teresa greeted kindly.  "May I speak to you about your wife?" 

  "Please, speak freely Mother.  How is she?"

 

   "She is not well.  Mostly she says, 'he loves me, he loves me not.'"

  "She still says that about me?"

  "You?  Perhaps.  Or she could be thinking of your son."

  "Don't worry My Lord.  You can rely on my discretion."

  "She and Alexander kissed and you knocked the sense out of her?"

  "So you think this is my fault?"

  "I did not bash her head in.  Fie!  I dare say her cheek felt no sting.  Perhaps a little warmth, but no sting and no mark.  A husband has a right to it, but I am not the sort of man to be placing bruises and welts upon a lady."  And then is a quieter voice he added, "I have never struck her before.  I can't say I care to again.  Please believe me Mother."  And then quieter still, "It's likely the shame that has her crying as she does."

  "I believe you My Lord.  Come with me."

   "He loves me!"  Lady Yarrow said happily.  She danced as if she were in a man's arms.

  "She can be sent to the Fool's Tower."

  "I can't send my Flower there."

  "Instead you would have her stay here?  And will you stop having guests?  Or perhaps your guests will be audience to her frailties?"

  "And when you are at work, suppose someone should stop by, a stranger perhaps.  Should she be alone with a stranger in her frail state?"

  "No.  I see I have little choice.  I didn't mean for this to happen.  I wish I had never raised a hand to her."

  "Do you really think that drove her mad My Lord?"

  "Did it not?"

  "A lover's kiss from her son and a shameful slap from her husband.  It must have been more than she could take."

  Horses could be heard approaching, then stopping before the cottage.

  "You arranged for a carriage?"

  "Yes My Lord.  Do you wish me to send it away?"

  "No.  See her on her way.  I cannot bare it."

  "My Lady?"

  Yarrow replied with girlish laughter.

  "Your carriage awaits you My Lady."

  Yarrow went willingly, as if she were going for a pleasure ride.

  Richard listened as the carriage took away his bride.  Then he listened to the nun's footsteps, leaving in the opposite direction.  Then he rushed outside.  He was too late.  He saw neither nun nor carriage, only the Fool's Tower, looming in the distance.

  She is gone.  My bride, my lady, my flower, gone.

  Richard went in and uncorked a bottle of wine.

  He knew not when or if he would see his flower again.