by Abby Ayles
But then a little fear rose its head... Perhaps it was not good news? For someone to follow so closely after her, without first sending a letter, it must be an urgent matter. She braced herself for it to go either way.
As soon as the bandage was attached firmly, Lucy followed Sister Elisabeth in the direction of the main door. She tried to retain the calm and steady step of a Sister, but she could feel a spring in her heel. It would be nice to see someone from home, and hopefully the news would be good.
Sister Elisabeth opened the door to the reception and held it open for Lucy. It seemed that she was not going to escort her in. Was this guest going to be a woman, then? Lucy nodded towards the door. Sister Elisabeth shook her head and smiled. Whatever the case, she was expected to meet her guest on her own.
Walking into the reception, a room not wholly unlike a library, Lucy felt comfortable. The walls were an endless row of bookshelves, laden with worn, often-read tomes and wads of paper, without a single ornament. Two heavy sofas rested in the middle, and several chairs in the corners. Sitting with his back to her on one sofa was a man. This took Lucy a little by surprise.
Nevertheless, if she was to become a nun perhaps the usual conventions of separating the sexes did not apply. After all, what would a nun want with a man. She walked around the sofa to face her guest. Lord Andrew Jones jumped slightly.
“You were very quiet entering,” he said with a meek smile. “How do you do?”
All Lucy wanted to do was turn around and walk back out the room. His green eyes were piercing, invasive... sensual. He looked so dashing in his fitted suit and excessively bright red shirt. His face flushed so beautifully. He was temptation come to ruin her.
“I am sorry, I cannot speak to you,” she replied, turning around.
A hand seized her wrist gently. “Please, just allow me to talk with you a while.”
Lucy pulled her wrist free and walked to the window. “There is nothing to talk about,” she replied coldly.”
“Oh, but there is.” His voice sent shivers down her spine, it was so deep and rich, flowing through her mind like honey.
This was not who she had wanted to see. Especially not like this. Not so soon. Not alone. She should just walk out the door. But she was not strong enough against his temptation. She wanted to hear what he had to say. To spend more time in his company. To let him push her limits. To give him a chance... She should not. And yet she still stood there, looking out the window.
His footsteps on the carpet sounded like the gentle pad of a predator stalking its prey. He moved in close behind her. She shivered and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. His breath was warm through the veil, barely reaching her skin. She felt her heart speed up.
“Lucy... I... I heard you were here, and I can only hope that there is time for you to reconsider,” Lord Jones said.
“There is not,” she replied as coldly as she could, trying to mask the excitement she felt at his proximity.
“You have already converted?” Lord Jones asked, a slight surprise on his voice.
She could have lied to him. But she wanted to put lying behind herself. “No, but I am here now, where I belong.”
Lord Jones chuckled, sounding somewhere between relieved and amused. “It is not where you belong. And you know this as well as I do.”
“But this is for the best. For me, for my parents, for yourself...” Lucy insisted.
“How is it for the best? You have almost certainly already seen what the life of a nun entails. Do you think you could live like this, every day of your life, forever?” he asked.
“I can and I shall,” she replied.
Lord Jones sighed. “It will break you, you know?”
“As though you have not already broken me with your stupid words and sinful acts,” Lucy replied, turning around to face him.
He shook his head. “You seemed most keen to indulge when it suited you.”
“When I thought you loved me,” she replied.
“I do love you,” he said bluntly.
“You love Clara Neal, I saw it, she said as much... It is wrong, but it is no concern of mine what wrong you do with others, in your own time, in your own home,” she replied with a heavy sigh. “But I shall be no part of it.”
“And because Clara Neal said so, you shall trust her?” Lord Jones asked.
Lucy shook her head. “No, because I saw it.”
“You saw her forcing me to kiss her because she regretted ever leaving me. You saw her proposing that I be her lover, so that she can continue to have the marriage of her dreams and the man she loved, in some sort of adulterous contract,” Lord Jones replied.
Lucy felt her heart leap with anticipation. And yet... she could not trust him. “It is only your word against Clara's,” she said coldly.
“She has been saying a lot of things to a lot of people. Surely you would not trust a woman who lied to everyone else?” Lord Jones asked. “After all she said about you... would you trust what she said about me?”
“I suppose I should not. But why should I trust you?” she asked.
“Because I have been nothing but honest with you,” he replied.
“Except when Clara was at your home,” she said, staring into his eyes.
He did not look away. “Because she was being ridiculous and I did not wish for either of you to be hurt.”
“I am not sure what to believe anymore, but if you do not wish to marry, I can never see you again,” Lucy insisted.
“Is that so?” Lord Jones said after a short pause. “The lack of marriage did not bother you before.”
“I was thinking like a child before,” she replied. “Now I am trying to think, and act, as a woman. And to do right in the eyes of God. I will not fall for the temptations which Clara gave in to.”
“You sound convinced,” he said.
“I am,” she replied.
Looking into his beautiful eyes, Lucy felt her heart breaking. But it was what needed to be done. She could not continue to sin. And he would not make things right. There was no compromise to be found. Even if they continued to see one another on the same terms, she knew eventually she would be tempted to go beyond a kiss. And she doubted he would care for her once her body was off the table. It was better for everyone.
“I just find it so hard to believe, that someone so sweet and lovely... such as yourself, would make the choice to live a life without passion,” he said.
She shook her head. “There is plenty of passion in faith,” she replied.
“That is not the sort of passion to which I referred,” he whispered, his deep voice driving another shiver down her spine.
Andrew stepped in closer, lifting a hand to pull the soft white head covering from her dark, short hair. Lucy tried to lift a hand to stop him, but found she could not. The hairs of her entire scalp stood on end as the veil dragged over them, leaving her head bare again.
“Much better,” he remarked. “Your hair is lovely, you should not hide it.”
She stayed still as his ran his fingers through her hair. It was wrong. But it felt right. More than right. It felt perfect. He leaned in and inhaled the scent of her hair with an appreciative hum. He lifted her hand to his and held it. He looked down into her eyes and she looked up into his. She wanted him. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything or anyone.
His lips met hers. Her heart was melting. She pulled back, tears welling up in her eyes. “No... stop...” she whispered.
He stood upright and looked down at her mournfully. “Are you certain?” he asked. “Are you sure this is what you want? That you will not return, you shall not be by my side?”
“If you cannot marry me, I cannot be yours,” Lucy replied, her heart weighing down in her chest like a cart of bricks. Her tears began to escape, rolling down her cheeks.
He nodded. She could see tears in his eyes also. But it was what was needed. He would never marry anyone. His lack of commitment to Clara Neal meant nothing to her. She
slipped her head covering back on, adjusting it gently, and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
“I think you ought to leave,” she said, “before I start having second thoughts and ruin my life for a man who will not have me in marriage.”
“I suppose that this is farewell,” he said solemnly.
She nodded. “It has to be. I cannot trust you, much less myself around you. We must never see one another again, if we are to lead godly lives.”
“I had been thinking of returning to India,” Lord Jones said with a far off note to his voice. “To continue the mission there, where it would be my job to save, not corrupt, young women.”
“That is a very noble idea,” she said, her heart aching sorely at the thought of all that ocean between them.
“It is for the best,” he said, echoing her. “But... if we shall never meet again... perhaps you can afford me one last kiss?”
Lucy nodded. “Very well, if you must insist.” She knew it was wrong. She knew she ought to know better. But she did not care. She was not a nun yet. If she could not have him, she would at least have one more kiss to remember him by.
His hands clasped her waist firmly and drew her in close. Her fingers entwined in his hair. Their lips locked, sensually, lovingly, so tight she could feel his pulse through the kiss. For that brief moment, they were one.
Chapter 31
Seeing Lord Jones leave was worse than leaving her home behind. It was as though with that one kiss he had sucked her heart out through her mouth and carried it away with him. She wanted to chase after him. To beg for it back.
And yet she still felt a heart beating in her chest, too hard and fast for her to ignore it. If he had her heart... she remembered the tears in the corners of his eyes... then she must have his. She lifted her hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating hard enough for the both of them, both of their hearts in one single chest, lonely and yet exactly where they belonged.
She heard some gentle footsteps walking in behind her. She did not move. She could already tell who it was from the reassuring presence.
“An echo from the past?” Sister Elisabeth asked, squeezing Lucy's shoulder.
Lucy nodded. “A man I used to love,” she replied.
“Used to?” Sister Elisabeth pressed.
“And still do,” Lucy confessed. “How can I become a nun if I am still pining for the touch of a man.”
“We were all girls once,” Sister Elisabeth replied.
Lucy turned around. “Do you mean to say that you...? The other sisters...? Everyone?”
Sister Elisabeth nodded. “Yes. Some of us still feel love for those we have lost.”
“That sounds awful,” Lucy found herself saying.
“These things happen. Especially for those of us who convert after twenty. I had a few young men pursue me when I came here, believe it or not,” Sister Elisabeth said.
“But how do you cope? How do you go twenty, thirty, forty years without a man you love?” she asked.
“For some of us it is impossible to return to them. They are married, or deceased, or all but gone,” she began. “For others it is a process of discovering things which matter to us as much as love and romance do. We all have our own way of joining the order. And some never make it. Some return.”
“Some nuns go back to their old lives?” Lucy asked.
“Of course they do. To be a nun after a normal life is too much for some. Those of us here consider ourselves to be widows to the men and lives we lost, and wives of Christ. But some women are not meant to be bonded to our Lord until they pass on. There is nothing wrong with that,” Sister Elisabeth explained.
“But how do you know when it is time to stay or time to go?” Lucy replied, her heart heavier than ever.
“At the end of the day, we will always know in our heart of hearts what is right for us,” Sister Elisabeth replied. “I shall leave you to think about it. It seems you are not as committed to this life as you need to be.”
“I am not at all sure,” Lucy replied with a sigh. “How do I know?”
“Do not think about it too much. Just follow your heart. Because that is where God is, and that is where He placed your purpose.” Sister Elisabeth explained.
Lucy was not convinced. Because her mind told her that she was doing the right thing. But her heart of hearts cried out for Lord Jones. And she was not sure that she wanted to be alone. She wanted to have someone by her side, to keep her company and reassure her that she was doing the right thing.
“Please, do not go,” Lucy asked. “I need someone by my side. Someone to let me know what I am doing or saying is right.”
“My dear child, you do not need someone else to tell you that. The only right and wrong is what was determined to be your path by God. And the map of that path is within you, nobody else,” Sister Elisabeth explained. “What do you think is right?”
“I... I think the right thing is to marry him,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “But he will not marry.”
“Not all men remain against marriage forever. Perhaps he will come back some time for you,” Sister Elisabeth said.
Lucy shook her head. “I am worried that he shall never change his mind.”
“Could you marry someone else, knowing that perhaps he would change his mind?” Sister Elisabeth asked.
Lucy sighed. “I could not marry someone else even if I knew for sure that he would never return,” she confessed.
“Then you would do the right thing to be here, waiting, would you not? At least then you know you are well, and he would know where to find you. And, as I said, some younger Sisters are not truly prepared for a solemn vow, and return to common life. Some Sisters here believe they are wicked and sinful for doing so, but myself...” she paused and shook her head, “I believe that they are good of heart, and that God is calling them to a different path, a different mission. There is nothing wrong with another life, so long as it is according the God's plan.”
Lucy nodded. “I suppose, I do believe it is God's plan that we be together. Even if he does not.”
“Then by the grace of God, perhaps he shall be saved,” Sister Elisabeth replied, hugging Lucy warmly. “Until then, do what you feel is the right thing.” With one last reassuring squeeze of the shoulder, Sister Elisabeth walked back out the room, closing the door behind her, leaving Lucy on her own.
Lucy wondered why, after specifically asking not to be left alone, Sister Elisabeth had still walked out the door. Did she not see that Lucy still needed guidance, reassurance, help? Almost anyone else in Lucy's life up until that point would have stayed until she found a solution.
And that was the problem. Everyone was offering her so much help, she never had to think about anything for herself. She never had to make her own decision. Sister Elisabeth had told her that any path, so long as it was godly, would be fine. And then she had left. It was Lucy's job to choose that path. And the path she would rather take was... the one that led to Lord Jones.
Of course, perhaps he would change his mind given enough time. She looked out the window. But that would mean relying on him to act first. Relying on others to make their decision. And she had made hers. So why wait?
She was not sure she could wait for a miracle. She needed to confront him. She needed to ask him.
Lucy walked out the door with determination in her step, and was surprised to almost walk right into Sister Elisabeth, who was waiting outside with a knowing smile.
“Have you made your decision?” Sister Elisabeth asked, as though she already knew the answer.
“I need a coach, to go to town,” Lucy said.
Sister Elisabeth nodded understandingly. “I shall make sure that one is prepared as soon as possible. Would you like to pack anything?”
Lucy shook her head. “Depending on what happens, I might be returning to stay. I shall pack if I get the answer I want.”
“And what answer would that be?” Sister Elisabeth asked.
�
�I pray for a 'yes',” Lucy replied.
The coach trip was the most tension Lucy had ever felt in her life. This was not her first decision she made on her own. Nor was it her first spontaneous action. But it was the first time she felt that her own decision could truly change something in her life. The first time she was not leaving her future up to the commands, actions, or suggestions of someone else. The first time that her fate actually hung in the balance. And that was terrifying.
Lucy arrived at the inn. She knew he would be there. It was the only inn in town, and if he had expected to win her over, he might have ordered a room to stay in by night.
There was a young girl, probably no older than fourteen, sitting awkwardly at the reception guest, guarding the keys with an expression like a determined bulldog.
“Excuse me?” Lucy asked.
The girl's eyes softened at the sight of a nun's habit. “Yes, Sister?”
“Is there a man here by the name of Lord Andrew Jones?” she asked. “I have to talk to him.”
“Lord Andrew Jones gave in his keys around ten minutes ago, Sister,” the girl at the reception desk said. “But my father asked him where he was going and he said he would have lunch before ordering a coach.”
“Where would he be having lunch?” Lucy asked.
“At the front of the inn. The pub is a restaurant by day. Although if you would rather not enter it, Sister, I do understand, and I shall call for him,” the girl explained.
Lucy shook her head. “That will not be necessary. Where is the pub?”
The girl nodded towards a large oak door which connected the inn to the brewery and pub next door, apparently owned by the same family.
Lucy walked up to the door and pushed it open. She could see why a nun might not wish to be in there. Despite their best efforts to clean it up for daytime clientele, it was abundantly clear that the pub, stinking of beer and more than a little worse for wear, was the sort of establishment best viewed by night, and best smelled when inebriated. Nevertheless, there were a few men sitting at the tables, drinking coffee and talking as though they were right at home.