Sally said: “Or one big round window like a rose.”
That was a stunning idea. To someone standing in the nave, looking down the length of the church toward the east, the round window would seem like a huge sun exploding into innumerable shards of gorgeous color. Jack could just see it. “I wonder what theme the monks would want.”
“The Law and the Prophets,” Sally said.
He raised his eyebrows at her. “You sly vixen, you’ve already discussed this idea with Prior Jonathan, haven’t you?”
She looked guilty, but she was saved from answering by the arrival of Peter Chisel, a young stone carver. He was a shy, awkward man with fair hair that fell over his eyes, but his carvings were beautiful, and Jack was glad to have him. “What can I do for you, Peter?” he said.
“Actually, I was looking for Sally,” Peter said.
“Well, you’ve found her.”
Sally was getting to her feet, brushing bread crumbs off the front of her tunic. “I’ll see you later,” she said, and then she and Peter went through the low doorway and down the spiral staircase.
Jack and Aliena looked at one another.
“Was she blushing?” Jack said.
“I hope so,” said Aliena. “My goodness, it’s about time she fell for someone. She’s twenty-six years old!”
“Well, well. I’d given up hope. I thought she was planning to be an old maid.”
Aliena shook her head. “Not Sally. She’s as lusty as anyone. She’s just choosy.”
“Is she?” Jack said. “The girls of the county aren’t queuing up to marry Peter Chisel.”
“The girls of the county fall for big handsome men like Tommy, who can cut a dash on horseback and have their cloaks lined with red silk. Sally’s different. She wants someone clever and sensitive. Peter is just right for her.”
Jack nodded. He had never thought of it that way but he felt intuitively that Aliena was right. “She’s like her grandmother,” he said. “My mother fell in love with an oddity.”
“Sally’s like your mother, and Tommy is like my father,” Aliena said.
Jack smiled at her. She was more beautiful than ever. Her hair was streaked with gray, and the skin of her throat was not as marble-smooth as it used to be, but as she got older, and lost the roundness of motherhood, the fine bones of her lovely face became more prominent, and she took on a spare, almost structural beauty. Jack reached out and traced the line of her jaw. “Like my flying buttresses,” he said.
She smiled.
He ran his hand down her neck and across her bosom. Her breasts had changed, too. He remembered when they had stuck out from her chest as if they were weightless, the nipples pointing up. Then, when she was pregnant, they had become even bigger, and the nipples had grown larger. Now they were lower and softer, and they swung delightfully from side to side when she walked. He had loved them through all their changes. He wondered what they would be like when she was old. Would they become shriveled and wrinkled? I’ll probably love them even then, he thought. He felt her nipple harden under his touch. He leaned forward to kiss her lips.
“Jack, you’re in church,” she murmured.
“Never mind,” he said, and he ran his hand over her belly to her groin.
There was a footstep on the stair.
He pulled away guiltily.
She grinned at his discomfiture. “That’s God’s judgment on you,” she said irreverently.
“I’ll see to you later,” he whispered in a mock-threatening tone.
The footsteps reached the top of the stair and Prior Jonathan emerged. He greeted them both solemnly. He looked grave. “There’s something I want you to hear, Jack,” he said. “Will you come to the cloisters?”
“Of course.” Jack got to his feet.
Jonathan went back down the spiral staircase.
Jack paused at the doorway and pointed a threatening finger at Aliena. “Later,” he said.
