by Abby Ayles
No, she knew exactly who she needed to see. Her very best friend. The one person who had remained by her side through everything, who believed and trusted her, who showed her love and respect...
If she was even at her local mansion, and not miles away in Devonshire, that is.
Chapter 29
Lucy felt a sense of relief as she walked into Antoinette's house. “Thank goodness you are still here!” she exclaimed as she was guided into the drawing room to see your friend.
Antoinette stood up and walked over to Lucy, planting a kiss on her cheek. “To what do I owe this lovely surprise?” she asked.
“Well, it's not good news. Or, I suppose, bad news either,” Lucy replied. “My parents have decided I ought to go to the convent sooner rather than later.”
“So you really are going, then?” Antoinette asked, sounding a little heavy hearted. “I had been hoping you may find another way around this. Or that you might have waited and met a man suitable for you to marry.”
“I would rather have more time too,” Lucy replied. “But it does not look as though that is an option.”
“I know,” Antoinette replied, walking with her friend to the sofa and sitting down.
“You do?” Lucy asked, sitting down beside Antoinette and putting her head to one side.
“I just... I know why your parents are trying to send you sooner,” Antoinette replied. “I was one of the first people Clara tried telling. She seemed to think I would not want to socialize with you anymore if I believed you had ruined yourself.”
“Oh...” Lucy couldn't think of anything else to say.
“Then she went to your mother, so after hearing the news, I put two and two together and assumed she probably told your parents what she had told me, and now they are more desperate than ever to send you to the convent. Am I correct?” Antoinette asked.
Lucy nodded. “You are. What is it, exactly, that she accused me of?”
Antoinette shook her head. “I will not repeat such things. Suffice it to say, she accused you of everything.”
Lucy may have not had the experiences she was accused of. But she was not naïve either. She grimaced, nodded, then sighed. “But why didn't you defend me?” she asked. She felt her heart ache sorely.
“I could not. I did not think she would say such vile things to your parents. I just assumed she would give up after she could not get through to me,” Antoinette replied.
“But when she was saying these things to you... what did you say?” Lucy asked.
“I said I did not care what you did do or did not do, only that you were a good friend and a good person,” Antoinette replied.
Lucy scowled. “You could have defended my honour.”
“I could not. I was not there. I could not defend your honour in that situation any more than I could defend hers when you told me what you had seen,” Antoinette replied. “When one is in a position such as I am, one cannot afford to spread or deny rumours. As a Duchess I have to be above it all entirely, and completely impartial.”
Lucy nodded, feeling a little less defensive. “I understand. I suppose these matters are never simple.”
“They are not,” Antoinette replied. “It can be an absolute nightmare, if I am quite honest. You cannot say one thing to one person, but you have to say it to another, you cannot confirm or deny anything you did not directly witness... I suppose it holds the fabric of society together, but it is a lot of work for one person.”
Lucy sighed wearily. “I understand. Forgive me for getting angry at you.”
“I was not sure you would have wanted to be defended anyway,” Antoinette said. “You usually seem quite content to live with a poor reputation.”
Lucy hesitated. “I suppose... but normally my poor reputation is my own fault, and is true. It's different when someone else is in control.”
“I understand, but at least you will not be here to live with it,” Antoinette replied.
“Most true. I shall not miss the gossip and the wickedness here.” Suddenly, Lucy felt her heart grow heavier. “But I shall miss you.”
Antoinette embraced Lucy closely and kissed her cheek. “I shall miss you too.”
Lucy knew that of everyone, the only person she would truly miss every day would be Antoinette. She had been the only person Lucy had missed during her stay in boarding school, and she was the only one who she still loved having returned. The only real person, at any rate.
“You did not tell me we were expecting guests,” a man said from behind them.
Lucy turned around to see Antoinette's brother, Thomas, in the doorway.
“We were not. She just dropped by. And you need to get ready to set off for your honeymoon,” Antoinette replied.
He nodded. “I do, I do, but I was just curious as to who had come to see us.”
As Thomas walked in, Antoinette stood up, walked over to him, and kissed his cheek. He kissed her back. Lucy blinked and stared. All this cheek kissing was starting to confuse her. It struck her that nobody used to do it much at all, and now everyone seemed to be doing it.
“What is that about?” Lucy asked.
“What is what?” Thomas asked, walking in and sitting down on an empty chair.
“The kissing. The cheek kissing. Nobody used to ever do that,” Lucy explained, putting her head to one side.
“Oh, that? Her Highness Elisaveta does it,” Antoinette remarked. “Some sweet little habit from Europe.”
“What does it mean?” Lucy asked.
Antoinette shrugged as she sat down beside Lucy. “It doesn't mean anything. It is a kiss.”
“But... I always assumed kisses were between lovers, or parents and children,” she said. “It is a little rare for everyone to be kissing suddenly.”
“I suppose it is just pleasant to greet people with a kiss,” Thomas replied. “I hadn't given it much thought, to be honest. My sister started doing it and I took it for granted.”
Lucy nodded. “I suppose trends change. Is it only used for greeting?”
Antoinette shook her head. “No, I do not understand all the norms, but Her Highness kisses for greetings, farewells, and when an agreement is reached. A few other occasions, but it is not a simple matter.”
She was a little confused now. So Lord Jones and the Princess were not intimate? That kiss had just been some sort of greeting, or formal acknowledgement of what they were saying. A strange European habit, but something innocent, nonetheless. He was not quite as terrible as she had assumed. He was not running around wooing random women left and right. She had placed entirely too many sins on him.
Lucy felt a pang of guilt as she realized she had blamed him something which he had not been guilty of.
Nevertheless, he was still in love with Clara Neal. And that would not do.
Even if he was not a womanizer, even if he was a good man who would devote himself to one woman for life, he was against marriage, and that one woman was Clara, not Lucy. She could not continue to hold a candle for someone who did not think her important enough to marry her.
She had to leave for the convent before she started giving him entirely too many excuses. Otherwise she might end up falling in love with him again, and ruining her life for good.
Lucy awoke as the coach drew to a jerky halt. The journey had been over a week long, including stops to refresh the horses and get a good night's sleep. The maid and footman which had accompanied her were weary and eager to have a proper bath and a nice big meal.
But all Lucy could think of was how her life was about to change, to veer off into the unknown. The sun was barely breaking the horizon, but they were there. Emerging from the coach in a bit of a daze, Lucy was surprised by the sharp, salty wind that shook her hair loose from her bonnet. Still fairly short despite several weeks of growth, it whipped in the wind and she could feel the coldness of the air all over her scalp.
The maid caught the bonnet and handed it to Lucy as the footman took her meagre luggage from the coach and asked
the driver to get two rooms at the local inn and then return for them a few hours later, when Lucy had been settled in.
Lucy looked around, taking in the tall grass on the tiny hills, the sheep grazing in the fields so far in the distance that they looked like little specks of dust on the green, and the small, stone buildings, damp with sea spray and green with moss and lichen. It was a shocking change from the deeper hills and flats, the abundant trees, and the countless small fields and farms in the Midlands. The smells, the sounds, the sights were all from another world entirely.
She turned around and looked at the blue horizon where the sky met the water. The village had been built right on the edge of the cliff and the beach, overlooking the vast ocean. To the left of her Lucy could see the road to the beach, paved with huge cut stones, dusted with sand, hedgerows and stone walls blocking it off from the largely unused fields at either side of it. To the right of her she could see the scraggy grass growing up the cliff, and the winding road they had just descended.
Before her she could see the sea, and behind her was the village and England, stretching into the distance. It was a world apart from anything she had ever known. She was in the middle of so much strangeness.
The convent was much further back inland, but the horses needed feeding and the family coach was not quite equipped for that journey. Lucy would need to hire a coach to make it there. Her footman and maid would accompany her, but once she was in the convent and the luggage was unloaded, she would be on her own until her parents chose to visit her.
It did not take long before the footman found a suitable coach for hire and loaded her few bags onto it. They began their journey back into the fields, away from the crashing waves, the screeching gulls, and the dusty, sandy stone road.
It took only a few minutes from when the village vanished to when the convent appeared.
Lucy was in awe of the place. It was not majestic in the same way as the Princess's castle was, but it was nothing like boarding school either. It looked vast and rugged, like the medieval castles depicted in fairytale books, or ghost stories. The stone slabs it was cut from were at least four foot by four foot, and had been worn so smooth that they almost looked like they were one solid surface, which God had purposefully shaped into a castle. The windows were narrow, and the huge wooden door looked as though it had recently been repaired, standing out from the rest of the building by how clean and undamaged it was.
Lucy was guided in by the maid and sat down in the hallway. A nun showed the footman where Lucy would be staying. She just sat and watched as the maid, footman, and nun took their time sorting affairs. Having shook Lucy's hand and wished her well, the maid retreated to the coach. The footman left wordlessly, obviously tired and ready for his meal at the inn.
And then there was Lucy.
She stood up and walked over to the narrow window by the door, peering out as the footman disappeared into the coach and it shakily bounced down the path, towards the village whose tiny roofs were barely visible in the distance. Seeing the footman depart was bittersweet to her. On the one hand, she barely knew him, but on the other he was the representation of the last of her old life rolling down the hill.
From now on everything changed. She did not have much with her, only a few changes of undergarments and a couple of plain Sunday dresses, some toiletries, and a box of letter writing equipment, to stay in touch with her parents with. But even that had vanished into a room somewhere. All she could do was sit down and wait and hope for the nun to return. They held power over her life now, just as her parents had done before, and her teachers before that.
It was not the life she would have chosen for herself. But it was the life fate had chosen for her. At least now her life would have direction, and purpose. At least now she would not need to fear the consequences of her own foolish actions and uninformed judgements. And at least now she would not be tempted by the rich aroma of Lord Jones's cologne, or the softness of his lips... Lucy sighed and wiped a tear away from her cheek.
The nun emerged again. She was a plump woman in her mid-fifties, with soft, sun-stained skin and slightly milky blue eyes. Her lips were full but lacking colour. Her whole expression was maternal and soothing. She smiled warmly. “Oh dear, are you sad?” she asked, with genuine love in her voice.
Lucy wanted to lie and say everything was alright. But lying was hardly a good start to a Godly life. She nodded.
“It can be difficult, what are you concerned about?” She sat down beside Lucy and enveloped her in a reassuring arm. “I am Sister Elisabeth, and it will be my job to accompany you as you become a Sister alongside us.”
“I am afraid I shall regret it, Sister,” Lucy replied. “Every decision I have made in my life has been so foolish. And this is the last decision I will make for myself. But what if that is also foolish?”
Sister Elisabeth shook her head. “No, it is not so. God directs us in all that we do. And He would not let you make a decision that was foolish. Even if your past decisions have felt foolish at first, they are all guiding you towards the life you truly ought to lead. They have led you here, now, so here and now is where you ought to be.”
Lucy nodded. “I suppose you are right. It is comforting to think that all I have done, however contradictory, may have been for a reason. It is still a big change from how I used to live.”
“We do not concern ourselves with where we come from, but with who we are today. You will soon get used to this,” Sister Elisabeth said reassuringly. “It is a shock to most of us, but you know your calling when you see it.”
Lucy nodded and smiled. “I would like to go to my room for now,” she said.
“Very well,” Sister Elisabeth replied. “Normally we share rooms with four or five other Sisters, but we feel that sometimes new arrivals need some time to themselves, to adapt and get to know their new friends.”
Lucy just nodded again. Really, she was not sure what she wanted. She was not sure she wanted to be alone at all, but Sister Elisabeth was right in that she did not know anyone yet. She would just go along with whatever happened, and see where life guided her.
That night she curled up in her bed and wept for several hours. She was not ready for this. She could not do this. But she had no choice anymore.
Andrew had been right, back when he had warned her away from this. She would never adapt.
Chapter 30
The next morning she was awoken before the sun rose. She began to get dressed, wondering if she could ever get used to this black curtain she was expected to wear for a dress. The little white veil on her head felt odd too. She may not have been too keen on the fancy, elaborate, impractical clothes that other girls wore. She was much more used to the lightness and ease of movement of her school clothes. But that did not mean she eschewed style entirely. She loved bright colours, soft ribbon and lace, and sparkling jewels. She loved feeling girly. But what was the point of looking and feeling girly when she was going to spend her life as a sexless, pious woman?
The day began with prayer before breakfast. The thought struck her that she had rarely prayed since leaving school. Along with having her heart broken by Duke Perry, her very spirit had been scarred. She had lost her faith in love, marriage, humanity, and God. Nothing had been right in her world since then. She had nothing to ask for because she hoped for nothing. She had nothing to be thankful for because she loved nothing.
But now, kneeling in front of the pulpit, hearing Mother ask them to be thankful, to be grateful, to ask for better in the world, she realized how much she had to be thankful for, even back home, even now. She was young, and healthy, and wise, and safe. She had food and clothes and people who protected her. And the world had so little in comparison...
Eating her meal, it tasted a little plain, but was ultimately warmly satisfying. It was not what she was used to. It was not rich with fats, sugars, and spices. But the texture of the porridge was just right, and the little spoonful of jam in the middle added just enough flavour with
out masking the smooth earthiness of the oats. There was not as much of it as she would have expected at home either, but she found it pleasant to have no food left on her plate at the end of the meal, still feeling full despite the lack of excess.
Chores were a new thing for her. She felt utterly inept as she seized the knife and carefully began peeling potatoes. Most people did this every day of their lives, from early childhood until their fingers were seizing with rheumatism. And yet she, even with her beautiful penmanship and sewing skills, could not hold the knife properly. She had been groomed her whole life to be a good wife, not to be a good nun.
As her hand slipped and she cut her little finger almost to the bone, she let out a surprised and pained yelp. She wasn't even sure if it was enough to call to anyone's attention until Sister Elisabeth came to check on her and guided her to a small room where they kept some simple bandages and ointments.
“You daft girl,” Sister Elisabeth said warmly as she dabbed at Lucy's cut. “Always take care of yourself. This is the only body you are given. Respect it.” A head peered in as Sister Elisabeth reached for the bandages. “Hello Sister Veronica,” Sister Elisabeth said, “do you have anything to say?”
“Yes. Lucy, you have a visitor,” Sister Veronica said. “Shall I show her to the reception?”
Sister Elisabeth shook her head. “I shall show her there when she is bandaged. Please, return to your duties.”
Lucy felt her heart leap in excitement and joy. It had to be someone from back home. It was just what she needed. Someone to see her and tell her about home and ask how she was. It had only been a week since she left, though, so they must have been hot on her tail. Nevertheless, it would be nice to see a familiar face. And reassuring. She was thought of. She was loved. She was wanted.