The Now Former Lady Deveroux Ch. 01

Samantha buzzes with insult. "Of course I do."

"Every person you've used and discarded has felt as you do now, and yet you've felt nothing was wrong with that until you were no longer holding all the power?" Esther is disappointed. "I pity you."

"I didn't ask for your pity."

Samantha feels a twisting sensation in herself as she says this. She did, indeed, want pity from others - the sort where they would agree regarding the unfairness of her current situation. She was meant for the gentry and it was nothing short of apocalyptic to her that she would be so easily cast out. She'd always known her status there was more tenuous than others, it had not been easy to make way given her background, but she'd foolishly assumed that she had garnered a place amongst its ranks even if her ex-husband, Revier, were no longer beside her. And so, Esther's pity prickles against her; on the one hand providing the satisfying position of recognition, and on the other, far less comforting position, it confirms that she must be pathetic indeed.

"Samantha," Esther's voice drops lower, descending into a tone nearing the sort of compassion one would use with an ill child, "it sounds as though lesbianism hardly even registers on your list of sins. Your true corruption is that you stopped allowing yourself to show love and compassion to people."

The ex-noblewoman frowns. "So what? As though you love every person you meet?"

"I feel comfortable saying I love you."

"No, you don't," she spits the words into her drink.

"When I gaze upon you, all I see is that spark of life within you which you are trying to snuff out through your perspective," Esther tells her, somehow avoiding condescension in her tone despite her words. "I love that spark in all people. It's God. It's a person. It doesn't matter, it's loveable."

"You are a strange woman," Samantha accuses.

"Strange," she admits, "and happy." Esther scoots back her chair, swiping up her pint glass as her feet meet the ground once again. "Come, throw darts with me."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because," the nuns head bobs down towards her, not quite teasing, "you're lonely and I'm someone to talk to."

And with that, Esther strolls jauntily across the room, having spied that the dartboard was no longer being used. Some of the patrons watch her carefully, but once they see she was not bothering anyone other than Samantha, they allow her full reign of the bar. Samantha watches her pluck the darts off of the cork target, throws back a little more of her drink, and decides to join her. It was that or go home, and she wasn't ready to suffer the depravity of being alone with her thoughts or her space just yet.

Esther takes the first throw, not particularly aiming with any focus. It's a decent shot, just a few squares out from the center ring. She offers the hand of green darts to her, which Samantha accepts. "So," Samantha begins after her first throw, "now that you've had your turn to criticize every aspect of my life and being, I believe it is mine. Why are you at this bar, of all places?"

"I've been known to struggle with desires for women," the nun replies casually. "Who better to discuss God's love with lesbians than one who understands?"

"I'm amazed you would admit that so openly."

"We're taught that all sins are equal, but I've never really believed it," Esther explains, tossing her second dart high into the twenty-zone. "How on Earth can murder be equivalent to lust? Desire for another person is a natural emotion, and I've not acted upon it in some time. It is no more shameful to admit than petty greed or mild covetousness."

Samantha feels her chest tighten. "But you believe acting upon it is wicked?"

"I suppose," the nun replies without much conviction. She quickly marches on to add, "Yet, how many men give themselves over to greed and debauchery without repentance. Indeed, the Barons worship greed and are praised for it. They're sometimes treated as holy because of it."

"So you would act upon it?"

Esther's lip twitches up and her eyes glimmer mischievously. "Are you propositioning me?"

"I am simply trying to understand just how tainted this nun is before me," Samantha rolls her eyes. "She's been mocking me all evening."

She decides not to engage with Samantha's barb, instead throwing another dart and continuing on with her theology. "Man should strive to be holy, yet we all fall short of perfection. I may be a nun, yet I will undoubtedly sin in some way within my life, it is simply human nature. Would I rather that sin be lust for a woman, or murder?" Esther grins. "At any rate, God will understand my heart and accept my confession."

Samantha spins one of her darts between her fingers. She tosses it without much conviction at the board. "That is a surprisingly enlightened position for a Sister," she exhales.

"I don't believe it particularly remarkable," Esther shrugs. "I believe it to be a neutral position. It is simply that the rest hold a bias against this particular sin." She pauses, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "Jesus spoke far more often about greed than lust. Indeed, the Apostle Paul is the only disciple to even discuss women lusting for one another, and only once in a long list of other sins. If I am to be shaping myself to be like Jesus, then it seems I ought to show more concern for poverty than lust."

Samantha considers her words for a moment. She may disagree with the overall assumption that one shouldn't act on this lust, but there is a refreshing feeling of speaking with someone on the subject of religion who did not overemphasize this issue. "It doesn't feel sinful, while in the act," Samantha replies to her. "In actuality, it often felt more wrong to lay with my husband, even though it was expected of me."

Esther is quiet for a few breaths, her face flashing with empathy. "If... I..." It takes a moment for her to solidify her words. "I believe the expectation of marriage and sex thrust upon women is a sin in itself. The Apostle Paul says we should only need to be married if we are burning with lust and cannot bear it. It seems to me that far too many people are forced into such an arrangement who are not burning." She exhales a sympathetic breath. "I am sorry your husband wronged you so."

"That is..." Samantha's chest releases some of the tension she was holding. Revier was a lively and admirable man, in the eyes of society; handsome, charming, engaging. No one had ever assumed she would want anything other than him, much less apologized to her for the price of her ascension being matrimony to him. "I've never... He was useful, in his own way. Marriage gave me status, security..."

"Being a Sister provides me the same," Esther offers.

"So.. you are not burning?"

"I was, for a time," she says without expanding upon it. "I've felt more peace of late. Are you burning?"

"Constantly," Samantha admits. "At times, it feels like it is all that I am. And not just lust, but... I feel consumed by fire at all times, save the few moments Annette or Cordelia gave me." She drops her hands limply to her side.

"When I was like that, it was as though I was nothing without the fire," Esther empathizes. "And I was horrified to realize that was true. There was nothing I cared for, nothing I valued, save for giving into the flames. I felt like a husk of a person."

With more sincerity than she expects to speak with, Samantha asks, "And how did you escape them?"

"The Church, though not for any conversion of God," she says. "It was simply that the priest in my hometown, during confession, asked me who I was. Not my name, but who I was as a person. I couldn't answer." She stares away, watching the wall for a few breaths. "The Sisters have helped me find joy and purpose in all things, large or small, and to see that there is an innate somethingness inside of me. Call it God, or don't, I'm not particularly cut up over it. But I made myself a whole person, separated from the turmoils of the conditions around me." She smiles, dropping her shoulders as she sees Samantha listening on with rapture. "I see that something I've said has gotten into you. You've not taken your turn."