Part 33 (2/2)
Madeline yelped and spun to press her back against the great iron gate at the whisper in the night. The tiny form of Sister Bernadette s.h.i.+fted out of the shadows. The serene old nun stared at her as if they had met in the cloisters at midday.
”Sister Bernadette, I can explain,” Madeline wasn't sure how she found her voice. ”I was just-”
”You've no need to explain, child,” Sister Bernadette's wrinkled face glowed in the moonlight.
”But-”
”If I had a handsome young man waiting for me on the other side I would run as well.”
Madeline closed her gaping mouth and blinked at the woman. She had tried so hard to be good, to obey the rules and forget what was in her heart, but Sister Bernadette knew her too well. All of her resolve, all of the fort.i.tude she had built up since her trip to Derby, since meeting the enigma that was Jack Tanner, melted around her.
”I have to go to him,” she rushed to grasp Sister Bernadette's hands. Tears that she had been holding back through months of prayer and punishment flowed. ”I can't live without him, Sister Bernadette. I tried, truly I did, but I can't.”
”I know, child,” the gentle nun put one frail arm around her shoulders.
”I tried,” she repeated. ”I tried to be strong when Mother Superior told me it was a sin to speak of him. I tried to forget him when father refused to let me leave the order. I tried to obey, but...,” she gulped at the memories of the confinements, the involuntary fasts, the days on end of prayer on her knees on cold stone floors all winter that had been imposed on her for her rebelliousness. ”Oh, Sister Bernadette,” she broke down anew, ”I love him.”
”I know you do,” Sister Bernadette dropped her whisper to the mere hint of sound, walking her back to the gate. ”You are young, my dear, and the hearts of young women should be filled with love.”
”But I've tried to fill my heart with love, with love of G.o.d,” Madeline sniffled, wiping her face on the sleeve of her threadbare habit. ”It's what my father wanted.”
Sister Bernadette patted her back. ”How can a father expect his young daughter to be faithful to G.o.d when she has the love of a handsome red-headed young man?”
Madeline could only stare back at the woman. ”Sister Bernadette!” she squeaked, ”How can you say that?”
”Easily, my child,” she laughed with a lilt that matched the Spring breeze and smoothed a hand along Madeline's close-cropped hair. ”Was it not your Jack who used to tell you that he never thought you were a nun?”
”Yes.” The memory of Jack's sly smile and wink as he held her close and stole a kiss, the only kiss she had ever had in her life, brought her tears on anew. Jack had flirted with her, said delicious, irreverent things to her, had even rescued her from the tower where Lord Alfred of Buxton had imprisoned her, but he had never once treated her like a nun. ”Oh Sister, my father will never approve of Jack. If he finds out I've left the convent....”
”You were not born for this life, my child,” Sister Bernadette laid a hand on the side of her flushed face with a wistful smile. ”It was wrong of your father to lock you away here. You were meant for a different world.”
”I know, but-”
Her protest was cut short by the rattling of keys. Sister Bernadette drew a loop of iron keys from her belt and stepped past her towards the gate. In nothing but the moonlight she found the key that fit the lock, turned it, and pushed the gate open.
”But what will happen to you?” Madeline gasped.
”To me?”
”What will you say when they find out I'm gone? What will you do if my father comes here looking for answers?” she blanched at the thought and glanced back towards the imposing stone of the convent, second-guessing her decision to run.
Sister Bernadette laughed. The sparkle in the old nun's eyes reminded Madeline of why in this prison full of gloomy nuns intent on their vows she had never felt alone. ”A love like yours should never fear reproach from a mere earthly father,” she shook her head. ”Have faith in that if nothing else. Besides, who will tell him how you escaped?” She reached into her pocket again and took out a small coin-purse. ”I think it is time I took a vow of silence.”
”Oh no, Sister Bernadette,” she tried to give the money back when the purse was pressed into her hands.
”How I choose to show my devotion is no concern of yours,” she cut the protest short. ”Now go, my dear. Derby is a long way off. You have quite a journey ahead of you.”
Madeline wavered, glancing over her shoulder at the rippling field that surrounded the abbey. The nearest town was half a day's walk. She had planned to keep to the edge of the forest, to sneak her way home to Derby, traveling at night so as not to be seen. A few coins could buy her a place on a farmer's cart or a merchant's wagon. A few coins could take her to Jack that much sooner.
She closed her hand around the purse and gave Sister Bernadette one last fierce hug. ”I'll never forget you,” the words caught in her throat. ”You've saved my life.”
The old nun laughed and let her go, walking her through the convent gate and into the world. ”Go now, my dear one, but be careful. You're not free yet.”
About the Author.
Merry Farmer lives in suburban Philadelphia with her two cats, b.u.t.terfly and Torpedo. She has been writing since she was ten years old and realized one day that she didn't have to wait for the teacher to a.s.sign a creative writing project to write something. It was the best day of her life. She then went on to earn not one but two degrees in History so that she would always having something to write about. Today she walks along the cutting edge of Indie Publis.h.i.+ng, writing Historical Romance and Women's Sci-Fi. She is also pa.s.sionate about blogging, knitting, and cricket and is working towards becoming an internationally certified cricket scorer.
You can email her at or follow her on Twitter @merryfarmer20.
Merry also has a blog, merryfarmer.wordpress.com/ , and a Facebook page, /merryfarmerauthor , and loves visitors.
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