Adieu, Nottingham

   My trunks are being packed as I write this entry. I have no choice but to leave Nottingham for Guy gave me none. Since, in his words, I am a liar (even though I am not) I can not be trusted to be mistress of the Gisborne manor and can make my own way to Normandie or York or anywhere else that he does not have to set eyes upon me.

  As an admirer of Queen Alienor d' Aquitaine, perhaps I should go to Poitiers and try courtly love for a change. That may startle Sir Guy...but then he would have to care from the start. Yet, better still I may make my way to Westminster in hopes of catching sight of her majesty. For Queen Alienor is smarter and better than her sons. They must take after their father, King Henry.

Alienor d'Aquitaine (Eleanor of Aquitaine)

Right now I feel bitterness, mixed with love, towards Guy and perhaps most men, but I will bear in mind my manners and be nice. I may not know where my journey will take me, but I will carry my love for Sir Guy with me. And I will have ways of knowing what he is doing for what few servants I did have and I have sworn to stay in contact as best as we can. Plus the monks have forgiven me for Angel's Mass by telling me it was not my fault, but I do feel some guilt about it, and have blessed me with a simple rosary.

  So with a last look around what had been Sir Guy's and my bedchamber it is with a heavy heart that I say adieu to my life and Nottingham.