The Now Former Lady Deveroux Ch. 04

"And you love her?" 

Samantha looks away. "I'm increasingly afraid I might." 

Simon smiles, proud like his point has finally been proven. "And there you have it: you are assuredly not the woman you once were. You might have the capacity to harm her, but none of the will." 

The former noblewoman grimaces and stares at the sanctuary around her. "But is this who I am? Christ, I'm active in a church just to be near her." 

"And does it make you happy?" He asks gently. "Beyond just your involvement with Esther, do you enjoy spending time with the children, enjoy speaking with me?" 

Her voice comes from a small, quiet place within herself. "Being with them makes me feel more like my mother." 

"Notably dissimilar to your father," he points out.

Samantha pulls a long breath into her chest, nodding quietly as she unwraps her arms from the place across her chest. "Thank you, Simon. I... I have a lot to consider." 

-- -- -- 

Judith loves the soup. Samantha had immediately decided to pull out the recipe her mother loved for cheering people up, a hearty soup of chicken and carrots and barely and ginger. Anytime either she or Cordelia were sick, or had a sour day, or simply needed something warm to improve their day, her mother had prepared the very dish which now sits before everyone at the table. 

It had been a sweet gift to cook it alongside Esther, scolding her chopping skills but making up for it with stories of her childhood. When Samantha had told her of the time she and Cordelia tried to trap a rabbit in a cage by using a small fire to frighten it, which did not work at all, Esther tells her own stories of childhood. She'd grown up used to the countryside, felt more comfortable barefoot in the grass than with shoes on cobblestone. She tells Samantha of the birds she used to try and imitate with whistles, and laughs loudly and jealously when she learns Samantha is more adept at whistling than she is. And now, the Sister sits alongside Judith and the rest of the children, absent a few who Sister's Minerva and Mabel took upon a walk, eating it and constantly meeting Samantha's gaze with a smile. 

Judith, while initially shy at the attention of celebrating her and her alone, seems delighted. They laugh and talk, and for a while Samantha is able to forget the angst burrowed in the back of her mind, listening instead to the twice-born girl pestering Esther about her own experiences. 

"Did you find it difficult to give up playing in the mud?" Judith asks, her bowl long since empty on the table before her. 

Esther giggles. "I lived by a marsh, I never gave it up." 

"Just like Miss Baker," Pullwater quips fondly. "She wished to continue wrestling and racing the boys. It was often difficult to get her to settle down in the evenings, she had so much energy." 

Samantha finishes her own final bite. "Do you find it difficult, Miss Velore?" 

"Not at all," she shakes her head, her voice chirping in her attempt to match Samantha's accent forged amongst nobility. "I hate being dirty. If I could take five warm baths a day I would." 

"You'd make an excellent Lady then." 

"I hope to be one someday," the girl confirms, her back straight and proper. "Sister Pullwater says my manners are good enough." 

"I said you are well on your way there," the Mother Superior grumbles playfully. "You still have work to do." 

"Nonsense," Samantha grins. "Did you see how delicately she held her spoon? The picture of a landed woman." 

"She's done well for herself," Pullwater admits. "As have you, it seems. This soup is delicious." She retrieves another ladle full for herself, pulling out of the large pot on the center of the table. 

"Another gift from my mother," Samantha replies, bowing her head appreciatively. "She would make it anytime someone in the family had a difficult day. Miss Jones was especially fond of it." She leans forward a little, turning her focus back to Judith. "I also prepared a special dessert for you, Miss." 

"What is it?" 

"A secret," she teases, only to add, "until I bring it out." 

Esther pops her head forward. "Then you ought to go and bring it here." 

"Very well," Samantha grins. "Though I need to add a few elements first. They're best added fresh." She rises from the table. 

Esther stands as well. "I'll assist you. I've learned so much from your cooking already today, I ought to see it through." 

"If you insist," Samantha replies happily, then turns back to Judith. "Just a minute, dear." 

Samantha makes her way back to the kitchen, separated from the main floor of the orphanage by a heavy door which one often needed to add some heft to their shoulder to push open. Esther closes it behind them and Samantha pulls out the lemon cake she'd left to cool. She pulls out another pot and a few jars of ingredients, preparing to make an icing to dribble over the bundt-shaped sponge. It's a cramped kitchen, with pots hanging overhead and tight corners, but it was functional.

"Judith looks very pleased you're here," Esther remarks, handing her the container of sugar. 

"I'm growing quite fond of her." Samantha begins mixing the ingredients, her eyes carefully watching the stove as it heats up. She smiles at Esther, thinking about her conversation with Father Billings once more. She'd snuck out to speak with him while Esther was left to keep an eye on the soup while it simmered, and she'd been thinking about what he'd said in the backgrounds of her mind since. 

"She really looks up to you," Esther rests her side against a small countertop to the right of the stove. "I've seen her watch how you sit or eat or do anything, then try to imitate you. It's very sweet of you to spend time with her and the rest of the kids." 

Samantha carefully stirs the sugar into her pot, moving the spatula in a calm circle to ensure it doesn't burn. "I think I might even enjoy it." 

Esther watches what she's doing for a moment, then says, "I never asked, but you were married... you didn't have any children of your own?" 

Samantha purses her lips. "I'm... unable." She takes a low breath. "We didn't know until after the wedding, obviously. I'm not sure his family would have let him otherwise." 

"I'm so sorry." 

"Oh, I was terribly relieved," she shrugs. "I'd have been a horrid mother." 

"Well, you are very good with the children now," Esther smiles appreciatively. 

"Thank you," Samantha pips. She turns her neck to gaze back at the cake, settled on the counter behind her. "Would you bring that tray over here?" 

Esther nods, picking it up and setting the cake down where she had been leaned up against moments later. Samantha nods gratefully, focused on the syrup she was making, only to be distracted by a startled yelp Esther releases from right behind her. She turns around, surprised to find her face half a foot away from Esther's as the woman struggles with her veil, the trail of which has caught against one of the pots hanging from its place on the overhead storage rack. 

"Oh, dear," Esther mutters, her hands tugging at the cloth to unsuccessfully pull it free. 

"I can-," 

"No, I've got it," the nun insists.

Samantha shakes her head, able to see the problem more easily. She raises a hand to pull the veil off of Esther's head, and once removed, frees the fabric from the handle of the pot. 

And then it's just the two of them, accidentally in one another's space; their breaths intermingling, their faces flushing pink, their eyes frantically meeting one another. Samantha feels the air catch in her throat, and Esther looks to be in a similar predicament. Unsure of where to place her raised hand, Samantha slowly tucks a stray strand of Esther's hair behind her ear, her fingers tracing across the side of the Sister's face. 

Neither of them initiated it, but somehow both find themselves crossing the distance, their lips pressing forth into the other's with a gentleness that was unbearable. Samantha's heart skips, her spine tingles, her lips savoring the sweet taste of Esther's skin. They remain there, still and unassailing, cautiously accepting the wondrous entreaty. 

And then she pulls away, her face bursting with warmth as she wordlessly returns the veil to Esther's head, wrapping it back around her hair with a timid tenderness. The nun looks similarly delighted and unsure, and says nothing as Samantha turns back to the syrup to finish it. Her heart patters in her chest as she pours it over the cake, and it's impossible not to feel a rush of energy as she imagines Esther watching her do it. 

She pours the glaze over the beige sponge, her hands hiding a wondrous tremble, and without another word she brings it out of the kitchen and to the table. 

"It's beautiful!" Judith squeaks, standing quickly from her seat and abandoning decorum long enough to hug Samantha's side. 

The former noblewoman beams, placing the cake down for all to see. She invites Judith to the seat of honor just in front of it, with Esther now taking the seat to her side, as the rest of the children scurry over to marvel at it. 

"My mother would make this for me every birthday," Samantha tells Judith, a bubbling warmth in her chest meeting the jittering feeling which was already there. "And when she would cut a slice, she would look at me and sing, 'For every sour, there is a sweet. For every lemon, there's sugar to make you smile.'" 

It embarrasses her a little to allow her voice to sing it out, chipper and sweet as her mother would, but Judith's enraptured honor makes it worthwhile. Samantha picks up a knife in one hand and begins cutting the first slice, presenting it to Judith with as much nobility as she can muster. "Happy birthday, Miss Velore." 

To her credit, and to Samantha's amusement, the girl waits for her to cut and serve a slice to everyone else at the table before taking her first bite, and when she does, her face grows ecstatic and jubilant. She savors each bite, practically bouncing with glee in her seat. Samantha's final slice goes to Esther, her heart skipping once more as she gazes upon the woman. The Sister accepts it happily, then notices Samantha has chosen to give her the final piece without saving some for herself. 

"We can split it," Esther offers. 

"I insist," Samantha tells her, her fingers lingering for a half-second upon her as she passes the plate. "Making it was treat enough for me." 

-- -- -- 

It's far more peaceful in the orphanage at night. The kitchen is tucked away on the far end of the main building, just around the corner and farthest away from the place where the bunk beds are, which the children now sleep noiselessly in. Sheltered by the heavy wooden door of the kitchen, Samantha had hardly even noticed how much longer it'd taken to quiet them enough for bed, but eventually the children had turned in for the night, and the Sisters went to their evening prayers. 

Samantha rejected Sister Eleonore's insistence on cleaning, instead opting to wash the dishes herself. She never liked to clean as she cooked, despite the fact that that was her mother's preference, and after feeding the whole of the convent and the orphanage there was quite a mess to look after. It takes significantly longer as she attempts to keep the noise of dishwashing as minimal as possible; even though she doubts the sound would carry through the thick walls, it was still better not to risk disturbing anyone. 

The quiet also allows her to listen to the faint sound of the Sister's prayers and hymns, their voices ringing through the convent above with an angelic quality. She couldn't recognize any of the tunes, but the flowing sound rises and falls and blesses her chores, and she wonders which of the voices she can hear belonged to Esther. Eventually, the Sisters find their way to bed, and a few minutes later, as she's finishing up the final few dishes, Samantha hears the door timidly creak open. 

"I'm very nearly finished," Samantha tells Esther, hardly looking up from her work. "And I am in a rather good rhythm of the work, so there is no need for you to pitch in-,"

Esther's arms slowly wrap around Samantha's waist, her hands meeting in the front as she embraces her from behind. She takes a long inhale, soothing and calm, and whispers back, "You were incredible today." 

"I enjoyed it. It was hardly any work, truly." Samantha feels herself rest back into Esther, just slightly taller than her. The warmth of her body sends a flush of heat through Samantha's skin, and she deposits the dish in her hand back into the soapy water. "Esther?" 

"Samantha..." she sighs back, squeezing a little tighter. Her chin pokes forward, resting on Samantha's shoulder. "I feel as though I saw you today." 

"You see me very nearly everyday," she replies, drying her hands on a nearby towel. 

"Actually saw you. You weren't acting, you weren't pretending to be someone else..." Esther's hands unhook from themselves, her warm palms sheepishly resting on Samantha's diaphragm. "You were just you." 

Samantha purses her lips, her hands nearly shaking from the thoughts racing in her head. It takes a great deal of focus not to turn around and... "I believe, for your sake, you ought to release me now." 

"But I don't want to," the Sister pulls tighter. 

Samantha drops her head. "I shouldn't have kissed you earlier, I'm sorr-"

"Yes, you should have." 

"I have been trying so hard to respect your wishes, Esther," Samantha releases a low breath, a restrained frustration creeping up underneath. "But if you don't... I can only resist my desires for so long." 

Esther is quiet for a moment. "I don't want you to." 

"You told me-," 

"I listened in on your conversation with Father Billings," she interrupts, her voice pattering with nerves. "Forgive me, but I could not resist the need to hear what you thought of me." 

"You..." 

"Did you mean it? What you said?" 

Samantha lays both of her hands on the counter before her, leaning forward and forcing herself to remain calm. Esther had heard her. She'd heard everything, she'd spoken with Father Billings, and then she had kissed her. Samantha's heart skips with excitement, and when she speaks again, she slowly utters, "... you have ten seconds to release me if you do not want me to kiss you." 

"It has meant so much to me-,"

"Ten..." 

"-that you respected my wishes-,"

"Nine..." 

"-but I am no longer afraid-,"

"Eight..." 

"-of losing myself, not when you-,"

"Seven..." 

"-have shown such capacity to-,"

"Six..." 

"-grow and be the woman-,"

"Five... please..."

"-I know you could be."

"Four..." 

"It would only be kissing for now-,"

"Three..." 

"-and I think it would still honor my-,"

"Two..."

"-oaths to chastity and-,"

Samantha doesn't even bother chiming out the final second, instead turning quickly and throwing her hand to the back of Esther's neck, pulling her in deep for a kiss. She presses her face forward, wrapping the woman into her embrace and tugging her veil off of her head, dropping it to the floor as she runs her hands through her hair. Esther gasps happily, meeting her enthusiasm with her own, and Samantha walks her back a few steps into the counter behind her to push Esther's hips back against something to give her more control. 

She drops her hands down to Esther's thighs, scooping her up and lifting her onto the countertop, then spreads her legs apart to step between them and kiss her with more force. Her tongue pushes forth, curling around her's whilst her hands race across the flowing black robes, rolling over her arms and waist and legs. Samantha sighs, enraptured by the sweet taste and inhaling Esther's pleasant scent, then her hand raises to Esther's white collar, pulling it down so that her lips could kiss the soft skin. 

"Samantha..." Esther exhales, one hand on the back of Samantha's head while the other rests on her shoulder. 

Samantha brings her hand up to Esther's hair, gently tugging it down to pull the Sister's face up to the sky, kissing her neck with a frightening passion. "Do not ask me to go further," she warns between kisses, voice ringing into her ear, "I would not be able to prevent myself." 

"Only kissing..." Esther confirms breathlessly. 

"Only this," Samantha promises. She tilts Esther's head back to kiss her lips once more, this time bringing her chest forward to meet hers and allowing the warmth of their bodies to intertwine more fully. At her waist, she can feel the virtuous joy of Esther's erection pressing up against her, and she's delighted by the affirmation of her devoted interest. 

Eventually, Samantha forces herself to pull away, dropping her palms down onto the tops of Esther's thighs while her face hovers a few inches away from hers. She takes a few breaths, fighting the bursting urge to throw her back down onto the counter and have her there, and she pauses until the frenzy slowly dissipates. "I... I need to stop there," Samantha whispers. 

"I understand," Esther rests her hands on Samantha's shoulders, staring into her eyes with a smile that won't leave her face. "At least I know you'll have inspired fantasies tonight." 

"You've no idea," Samantha sighs longingly. 

"Oh, I do," the Sister places a kiss on her cheek. "I suspect they'll be much like mine." 

A question pops forth in Samantha's mind, and her eyes flick down to Esther's lap. "Do the Sister's... are you allowed to...?"

"Touch myself?" Esther's head tilts to the side, amused. "It's discouraged." 

"Poor girl." 

"Man is not meant to be perfect," she blushes. 

Samantha places a light kiss on her lips, embracing her. "A lively fantasy tonight, a scandalous confession tomorrow." 

Esther nods, then releases a tense breath while staring back at the door. "The Sister's might wonder if I'm here for too long." 

Samantha pulls her in for a final kiss, her hands stroking the woman's hair. "Dream of me." 

"Just as I have been."