He had agreed because, of course, he had to have her. Having seen Isleen, he could not be happy with any other woman. He had not, however, as his future father-in-law suggested, offered the convent only half of Elf’s dower portion. His father had set aside a specific sum for Elf when she had been born, and Richard de Montfort would have felt his parents' disapproval from the grave had he cheapened his sister’s worth. As neither Isleen nor her family knew the amount, there would be no quarrel over the matter.

Elf had turned five on the first of May, and now a month later as he rode home alone, Richard de Montfort felt a deep sadness at having left her at St. Frideswide's. Old Ida had wept when he had told her his decision. She had gone down on her knees and begged him not to send Elf away, demanding to know what kind of creature the lord was wedding, that she would send a baby from her home. At first he had been comforting to the elderly woman who had nursed his father, and had nursed him and his sister as well. But Ida would not be pacified, and he had finally, in anger, reminded her of her status as a serf. The old lady had pulled herself to her feet, ignoring his hand, and with a fierce look at him, had stalked away. She had not spoken to him since, and while he felt sorrow about it, he would allow no one to criticize his Isleen. When his bride-to-be gave him a son, old Ida would recover and be happy to care for his child. She would soon forget her anger over Elf. She had no choice. None of them did. Isleen must be happy at Ashlin, and Richard de Montfort would do all in his power to assure his future wife’s contentment.