The Now Former Lady Deveroux Ch. 09

So, Samantha attempts something she has never attempted before. A third thing, between death or distance. 

She kneels down to Esther, swallowing back the tears which have now begun streaming along her cheeks, and takes the collar from her. She takes it like there was now no place for a knife in her hands. She exhales, blowing the air out through tight lips, and leans forward. 

She wraps the collar around the Sister's neck, not for any purpose of establishing power, or control, but for the desire to show Esther that she had heard her; that she had known what the woman's desires were. And after the buckle has clasped, she brings Esther into her arms and tightens them sweetly. 

"I am not leaving you, beautiful girl," she whispers into Esther's ear, and soon after they are both weeping. Perhaps it was simply the exhaustion of the night. Esther buries her face into the crook of Samantha's neck, while Samantha's arm holds her head like it was something precious and delicate. 

Samantha leans back and brings Esther into her body, sitting her back into the chair behind her for support. She waits for the right words, waits for Esther to steady herself with the relief of not being abandoned, and says: 

"If I have learned one thing amongst the gentry, it is this - I have perfected the art of using and discarding people." 

She takes a careful breath before continuing. "It was a skill first taught to me by the accident of Cordelia, yet I have practiced it for a full decade before I met you. And know this: when I wield such a dagger, it is wielded only from a place of remorse and of the hatred of myself for wielding it." 

Her hands pull through Esther's hair, and she kisses the woman's head. "I do not wish you to taste that blade, yet I cannot bring myself to spare you from my love. Please, for your sake, if you mean to accept my love, do not give up all of yourself to me. For it is precisely those parts which do not belong to me which I love the most." Another kiss upon her head. "It is the woman who is unafraid to challenge me, to break apart my foolishness, who I have come to adore more than anyone else in this world." 

She waits for Esther to speak. It takes a few moments, but the Sister eventually removes herself from her place at Samantha's neck, and she rises, wiping the wetness from her eyes and cheeks. "You worried I would cease to be me?" 

Samantha nods, a little sad about it. "You have, as of yet, demonstrated no limits, sexually or otherwise. At times I fear you would become anything I wished you to become, and that if you did not wish it too, that I could force you to become it." She closes her eyes, unable to look at the innocence of her. "I fear I could do extraordinary harm to you, and that you would thank me for it. I fear my love is rotten, rancid. I couldn't live with myself if I caused such ruin to you." 

"So," Samantha continues, pausing to allow her words to find her fully formed, "if I am to feel safety in the love of you, I need to know that you will keep some of yourself pure of me. Keep that part locked away, tucked somewhere so far away that I could not hope to reach it." 

Esther considers her for a moment, the band around her neck tugging as she moves. It would be temporary, sure, returned to her leg before they return to Bellchester; but for now, she knows it allows Esther to feel as though she has given herself away, as she desires. 

"A qualm first, and then my agreement," Esther begins. Her hands find their way to Samantha's shoulders as she moves to sit above Samantha's lap, straddling her. "First, my dear..." She pauses, remaining steady. "It pains me to hear that you believe your love to be poison, for I experience it as nothing of the sort. I think that you must have the wrong idea of yourself entirely - at least as I know you. You are neither vicious nor terrible, corrupting nor controlling. Just as I have experienced a giving of myself to you, so, too, have you given yourself to me. And sweetly.

"I have said before, Samantha, that I believe you to be kind and sincere. It worries me, in fact, that you do not respect me enough to believe it when I tell you such things about yourself." Esther tilts her head to the side, the look in her eyes so soft and welcoming that Samantha can't meet it. 

"Our first night together," Samantha whispers, staring off at the floor, "you told me you wished for me to ruin your life. I fear that I may. I told you I would." 

To Samantha's surprise, Esther giggles, that gentle and pattering sound she so loves. "Darling, I assumed that was theater. I was caught up in the desperation of you. You ought not to take me too seriously when I am aching for you." 

"Now," Esther continues, "for my agreement." She sits back onto her heels, and a little onto Samantha's legs. She places her hands atop one another, laid onto her chest. "I resolve to you, with all the conviction I may muster, and with all the understanding of what it means to your peace of mind and feeling of safety... I resolve never to give away that which gives me my distinction in your eyes. I shall keep a part of myself safe from you." 

Samantha doesn't fight the tears trickling out from between her lashes. She nods, then nods again to confirm she had heard her. She swallows through her dry mouth, feels the anxiety and angst in her chest waiver just enough for some other feeling to creep through. 

A weight lifts from her shoulders as she feels her form trust Esther's words. There would be no need for knife, nor flight. Esther would not lose herself, and Samantha would not allow resent for herself back into her care for the woman. 

She sits forward and takes Esther's hands into her own, rubbing her thumbs across the backs of them. "Then," she leans in, her breath crossing into Esther's space, "I resolve not to treat your love like it is not the sweetest gift I have ever been given." 

Esther's mouth is upon hers, her hands in Samantha's hair. Her chest puffs with stifled laughs, giddy with the enthusiasm and relief that Esther kisses her with. She's smiling when the kiss ends, and so too is Esther, so strongly that her cheeks begin to complain from the effort. 

"And," Samantha adds, a little jokingly, "This I promise you. If I am to be like a goddess in your eyes, then I shall be a benevolent one." 

"Perhaps I should not raise you to such a pedestal," Esther admits. 

"Perhaps not." 

Esther takes a deep breath, free from the fears that any conflict between them would tear their love asunder. Samantha is likewise relieved that no such permanent damage is dealt between them; marvels at the possibility that they might be better off as a result of a fight. She wonders at that. She'd never known a fight which did not simply bring more poison into her heart. 

So, Esther takes her to the bed, this time scooping Samantha up into her arms and bringing her head to lay on the Sister's chest. This time it is Samantha digging her fingernails into the folds of Esther's gown, holding onto her like she could not possibly be close enough. And this time, it is Samantha who feels herself drift away into sleep, knowing Esther's eyes were studying her, delighted. 

-- -- -- 

And when Samantha wakes in the morning, the answer is there. Change was in the air, she'd done something last night which she never thought possible - come to a place of conflict with a woman she cared for and walked away with her. Why not encourage such change further? Why not foster it? Promote it? 

"I've come to a decision," she informs Esther as the woman wakes. 

"Oh?" 

With a bubbling warmth in her chest, Samantha excitedly whispers, "I'm going to be a nun." 

A note from the author:

In the last year, I've somehow written something in the range of 700-800 pages. It's kind of insane to me. But it has been such a rewarding experience to see my writing grow in this time, from the first chapter I wrote of my work "Devotia," which kickstarted my return to writing, to this latest chapter of "The Now Former Lady Deveroux," it it almost unfathomable to me that I am the same writer.

The Now Former Lady is a quiet work, not as flashy or interested in action as Devotia or Baker and Jones are. It feels softer, reflective. And somehow I've walked away from this latest chapter feeling like it is possibly the best chapter I have ever written. It's not the most dramatic, nor the most sensuous, but it is the one I am proudest of. It is the chapter that has fully convinced me that perhaps, perhaps, I may actually be getting pretty good at writing. It's a beautiful feeling.

We've got two more chapters to go in The Now Former Lady, plus an epilogue, and I thank you for taking this journey with me. Thank you for being witness to me falling back in love with a hobby that I had almost given up on, years ago. They'll be plenty more to come of my works, that's for sure.

And yes, a sequel to Baker and Jones is in the works - the mystery slowly taking shape...