The Now Former Lady Deveroux Ch. 10

Chapter Ten

Change is possible. Perhaps. 

The phrase becomes Samantha's prayer, incessant and constant in the back of her mind. Change is possible - Perhaps. Maybe it was not possible, and yet maybe it was. Unable to determine the reality of either world of belief, Samantha decides to do what she believes Esther would like her to do. To believe that perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, she could be a woman that she would be proud of. 

A woman her mother would be proud of. 

So she prepares lunch with a giddy optimism in her chest, uncharacteristic for herself, to be sure, but infectious in how it pulls at her. Her hands shake and tremble at the possibilities, and for the future she is slowly carving out for herself. When Harold the pigeon had arrived for his usual bowl of seeds this morning, Samantha had even sung to him. The bird who had once been nothing more than an uneasy alliance of need was now an audience to her joy. 

Change is possible. Perhaps. 

A simple meal. Just lunch. Beans marinated and served alongside potatoes and rice. Fresh herbs. Lemon zest. Something resembling a gravy. It is springly and fresh, light and welcoming. Surely the Mother Superior would approve. 

And as she awaits the arrival of Esther and her aunt, Samantha cannot help but stare out at the street, anxious for them to meet her. She tries to imagine what the news will sound like upon her tongue, and what the older nun's expression will look like when she hears the decision. How gleeful will Esther's smile likewise be? 

And finally, a knock. 

"Good afternoon, Miss Deveroux," the Mother Superior inclines her head as Samantha pulls the door open. She'd waited a few beats so as to not seem so eager. 

"Good afternoon, Sister Pullwater," Samantha smiles, radiant like she was hosting a gala. "And to you, Sister Levy." 

"Good afternoon," Esther agrees. 

"My niece tells me you have news for me," Pullwater relates, coughing quietly in the manner of an old woman, "though she stubbornly insisted that I not be spoiled of the contents until I hear it from you." 

"Where would the fun be in that?" Samantha steps aside to invite them in. After closing the door, she carefully makes her way to the dining room to prepare a chair for Sister Pullwater at the head of the table. Esther and her take seats opposite one another, at Pullwater's left and right respectively. 

Samantha then retrieves the elements of the meal and serves them to the table, enjoying as always the ways in which the smells enter the room first and puff out along with the rising steam. The Mother Superior says a quick prayer, then allows Samantha to serve her a plate. 

Pullwater looks pleased at the meal before her. "Appealing to sight and to smell as always, Miss Deveroux. An excellent cook, you are." 

"Thank you." 

And rather than dive into the meal, the old woman drags her elbows up to the table on either side of her plate, latticing her fingers together and leaning her head eagerly forward. "Now, might I have the news?" 

Samantha shares a quick look with Esther, warm and enthusiastic. Feeling much like a child requesting commendations from their parents, replies, "I would be deeply honored to accept your invitation, Mother Superior, and to join the Sisters." 

Pullwater rocks forward, clapping her hands together with glee, and Samantha cannot help but feel proud and honored to elicit such a warm response from her. "Praise be to God!" The nun calls out, taking one of Samantha's hands with her own, letting her feel the rough and grandmotherly skin. "You will make a wonderful addition." 

Esther grins with her, and for a moment, it is as though Samantha has become now the person she wishes to be, wishes to be seen as. Change is possible, perhaps, and in this moment, she allows the welcoming delight and pastoral pride of the Mother Superior to will that change into existence. She sits taller in her seat, rests her back into her chair more steadily, lifts her chin up to be respectful and noble. She wears the righteous and proper poise that had so often won her acknowledgements at the table of the gentry, and now, it would signify instead the culmination of her repentance and acceptance of her new life. 

The elder nun takes one of Esther's hands as well, letting their palms all form a connected semi-circle around the table. She squeezes both of their hands, reverently declaring, "This would not have been possible were it not for your faithful witness, Esther, nor for your kindly openness, Samantha. I am quite sure there has never been such a bountiful friendship between two women since Ruth and Naomi. Bless you both." 

Esther smiles at Samantha. "A beautiful friendship indeed." 

Pullwater releases a satisfied breath, nodding, and affixes her gaze to Samantha once more. "Tell me more of your decision, Miss Deveroux. I would be glad to hear more of the workings of the Lord upon your heart." 

Unsure whether it was the workings of the Lord, or the workings of Esther, Samantha inclines her head and answers her. "I find myself interested to see what my life might look like when attached to such a noble purpose. I never much put myself on paths that lead towards increasing the good in the world, and I feel now that I should." 

It feels good to say such things, to believe them as if she really could be that person. All of the hatred of herself could go away, all the hostility she was capable of could be hemmed back like nothing more than poor tailoring. Change is possible, perhaps. Just as Esther had once been a woman who felt out of control, unable to determine what she wanted and who she was, so too could Samantha become like the wondrous person she was now. She looks at Esther once again, with eyes that could see her as nothing less than sheer divinity itself, and tends to the happy sensation within her chest. 

"I care deeply for the children," Samantha continues, "cherish Esther's role in my life, and have taken great value from the guidance of Father Billings. They have opened my heart towards a new direction, and I feel a pull within me to step towards it." 

"And so the Lord calls you," Pullwater nods, releasing both of their hands. She turns her attention to the food before her, considering the spoon in her hand before enthusiastically taking a bite. "We will happily welcome you into the fold. The children will be delighted as I am." Between bites, she steals a glance up to the sky and whispers, "Oh, happy day." 

Samantha purses her lips, trying to keep her glee restrained. It was rare for her to feel as though someone was proud of her, and for good reason, and she finds the feeling to be something she craves more of. Change is possible, perhaps. 

"Your enthusiasm warms my heart," she says. 

"Have you any business to conclude? You may consider yourself an initiate as of this moment, if you would like," Pullwater tells her, "though if you should like a few days to bring your affairs into order I would see it prudent to grant this." 

"A few days would be grand, Mother Superior." 

"Excellent," the nun bobs her head. She serves herself even more food, even as Samantha hardly touches hers, as there was a lack of room for food aside the bubbling excitement within her. 

Pullwater clears her throat and faces Esther. "You've done very well for yourself in this city, my niece. I worried you were languishing away from boredom at the Bromhill convent, and it seems to have been a fortuitous act to summon you here. You've won over a soul I never thought to see within a church, save for perhaps a holiday or ceremony. Bless you both." 

Esther looks pleased with herself as well, her eyes twinkling with pride from the approval of her aunt. "Thank you, Mother Superior." Her eyes flick over to Samantha. "And may I be the first to say, I look forward to welcoming you, Sister Deveroux." 

"By tradition, you'll be taking Esther's current room," Pullwater chirps up once more, "and the rest will shuffle along to fill Sister Minerva's vacancy. We can speak more of your vows and duties tomorrow, Miss Deveroux. No need to spoil celebration with great talk of logistics." 

Samantha nods in agreement, and allows herself to make an attempt at eating. Never would she have expected to gain the approval of a nun, much less one with such a critical reputation; though, never would she have expected to fall in love with one as well. Not for the first time, she considers how remarkable her new life was, and how unthinkable it would have been to her but a few months prior. Change is possible, perhaps. 

And Esther, she keeps glancing up at Samantha with that fluttering look of pride, like Samantha was something to be jubilant about. It is always those sweet brown eyes, which dance and shine whenever light catches them, which make Samantha believe anything must be possible. It is no difficulty at all to want to do whatever is needful to bring such a look to them again, and again, and again. If all Samantha's life was devoted to nothing more than the pursuit of that glimmer, how could she not feel it a good life, indeed?

Pullwater places her silverware down suddenly and shifts in her chair. She makes a soft noise, not quite clearing her throat, and sits up taller. "Forgive me," she begins, "but I feel overcome with pride for my niece, such that I feel the need to indulge.

"Dear Esther," she beams, "I have known you since you were such a young girl, and it has been a testament to the Lord to first be party to your rebirth, and later, be witness to your calling to the Sister's. Marred as your entry might have been, by, well," she shakes her head, as though the sentence required no further words for Esther to understand her meaning. The aunt and niece share a glance. 

"In Bellchester," Pullwater continues, "you have been the model of a perfect Sister - kind, knowledgeable, dutiful. You have done what was asked of you and more. You have made a home for yourself fit for the Godly life, and taken measures to ensure you will remain happily for some time. The Lord God smiles upon you." 

Samantha had never seen Esther seem so triumphant, pleased to be recognized in such a way. She bows her head, the cloth of her veil dipping forward, and rises with an exultant smile on her face. 

"Thank you, auntie, for all you have provided for me. For support of my rebirth, for your guidance in my calling, for your ever timely rescues when my heart has been in danger, and so much more. I am ever grateful." 

Samantha briefly wonders what Esther means by rescues, and resolves to ask her about it later. She's sure there's some humorous story to be told, one of Esther's unruly past life that would be sure to shock and delight Samantha. 

"And thank you, Miss Deveroux," Esther adds, those eyes once again giving purpose to Samantha's breath, "for helping me make this city feel as though it could be a home to me." 

"Of course, Sister Levy," she exhales. Samantha pokes at her food, trying to contain the multitude of warm feelings within her. Change is possible. "Oh, how I am excited to give the news to Judith. She'll be beside herself with joy." 

Esther takes a confident bite of her lunch. "You ought to bake her something special when you do. Two gifts at once." 

"I just may. I look forward to treating the children to such gifts more often." 

"It does their hearts good," Pullwater grunts agreeably. "Just as children require stern correction for their errors, they require joy and gratitude to shape them further." 

"So you'll hand out punishments, Sister Pullwater, while Sister Deveroux will spoil them with gifts," Esther releases a puff of laughter from her nostrils. "It'll lend itself to perfect balance." 

"You must think me perfectly gracious," Samantha remarks. 

"And me, perfectly harsh," the Mother Superior mutters. 

"And I shall remain the perfect middle ground between you," Esther giggles. 

At that, Samantha turns quickly to Sister Pullwater. "Sister Levy tells me she is not shy to enforce the rules with the children, but I can hardly believe her capable of such strictness. What is your assessment, Mother Superior?"

"Oh, she is quite soft on them," Pullwater accuses fondly. "Unless they are noisy going to bed. That is where she lays down the law." 

And the three of them laugh together, as Samantha tries to picture Esther as stern and authoritative. The image is adorable, if implausible, and she makes note that there is still more she may learn of the wonderful woman. She looks forward to dedicating even more time together, discovering the sweet joy of being witness to her day-to-day life in a new way. 

Finally feeling a bit more appetite, Samantha turns to Esther and gestures to a bowl. "Esther, would you be a dear and pass the gravy?" 

The nun nods obediently, her fingers wrapping tightly around its edges as she happily replies, "Yes, mistress." 

Samantha's stomach drops. 

Her skin flushes with alarm. 

Esther's eyes grow wide as she holds the bowl in midair. 

They meet Samantha's with a hesitant fright. 

Silence falls on the room as Sister Pullwater's face undergoes a metamorphosis of emotion. Its previous warmth dissipates, giving way first to a small tilt of her head. Confusion. But that soon gives way to something far worse. 

"...Mistress?" She repeats. 

Samantha acts quickly, speaking with the careful politic of gentry when an error has been made. "A joke between us, based upon a story I told from the Lady-,"

"Esther Anne Levy..." Pullwater says slowly, holding up a hand to silence Samantha. Her mouth forms each name carefully, sternly. "I am going to ask you a question, and you are not to lie to me." 

The bowl has long been placed back down, and Esther nods, staring at the table like she would go blind if her eyes lifted to the Mother Superior. Samantha watches helpless, unable to think of what to say while faced with the nun's famous scorn. 

"Have you sinned with Miss Deveroux?" 

A beat. Esther swallows. "... Yes." 

Pullwater takes a sharp and slow inhale. "Have you broken your vows?" 

"Yes," she croaks back. 

Samantha makes a futile attempt. "Sister Pullwater, if I may-,"

"I shall address you when I am finished, and not a moment before," the nun scowls, the jowls of her face frowning deeply even as she refuses to look away from her niece. She sucks in air once more, placing her hands down onto the table like she was commanding an army. "How long has this been going on?" 

Esther's voice is nearly breathless, whispered from a place of deep fear. She hunches into herself, as though waiting for a blow she was sure she deserved. "Very near the beginning." 

The Mother Superior nods. Sharply. The feeling hangs in the air, threatening to suffocate all of them under the weight of the revelation. 

Samantha feels as though her skin wishes to crawl off of her, as though some of her could make a feeble escape from the fury that was sure to burst forth. Samantha had never been present for any of Pullwater's famous lectures, famous bursts of righteous fury, but the stories were not looked upon lightly. 

Her mouth grows dry as the moment oppresses the air between them, until Pullwater speaks at last. 

"Esther..." A pause. "Why did you not come to speak to me about being in such danger? Why did you pretend otherwise?" 

The Mother Superior's voice is... kind. Concerned. Broken like one is when they see a bird caught in a trap of its own devices. Samantha waits for the claws to strike. 

"I was afraid," Esther looks at her, and suddenly there is something in the Sister's eyes Samantha cannot read. She was missing something between them, some emotion, some history. 

"Child," Pullwater reaches out a hand and covers Esther's, "I could have protected you from such abuse. I have before." 

"Forgive me, auntie," Esther shuts her eyes and nods, a small tear dropping from her lashes. 

The warmth in Pullwater's voice dissipates as the nun's head cranes towards Samantha, her piercing eyes cutting deeply into the former noblewoman like Pullwater herself held the scales of heaven. 

"I have trusted you, Miss Deveroux," she spits, "and it seems a grave error as I look upon it now." 

Samantha opens her mouth to speak, ready to defend herself with the legendary poise of a woman used to defending herself, practiced in the arts of conversation and intrigue of court life - and says nothing. No words form. No speeches of defense. She remains trapped in position, unable to even move her hands onto her lap to project poise. 

"Esther," the Mother Superior continues, "I should not like you to have to witness what I must say now. Please, return to the convent. Light a candle and recover yourself in prayer, and I will be with you when I can to console you. Miss Deveroux and I are going to have some words."

Esther glances at Samantha for the first time, apologetic and weary, looking very much the wounded daughter. She's retreated into herself like a turtle into a shell, protective, fearful. She seems almost to have taken the punishment of her mistake into herself, then retreated deeper beyond even that, fawning into a place of innocence. She rises slowly, and steps carefully out of the room. 

Pullwater waits until the front door has quietly clicked shut, then waits another few heartbeats. She meets her fingers together over her plate and glares at Samantha with the practiced wrinkles of a woman used to such tactics. 

"You have done many horrid things, Miss Deveroux, and I have been of the belief that each and every one has been within the power of God to forgive," she says slowly. Deliberately. "But this? I have no capacity to forgive this." 

"Esther and I-,"

"I am not finished," she cuts. "It is one thing to improperly lay with a woman. It is another thing entirely to take advantage of one and abuse her." 

Abuse? 

She stammers as she tries to respond, only to quickly be shut down once more. 

"All this time, all my hope for her safety, resolution in the benefit of your mutual friendship..." She shakes her head derisively. "And you have been a snake in the grass, stealing the very innocence of her. Taking her and harming her." 

Defend yourself.

"I-,"

"It is no surprise to you, I am sure, that Esther is an innocent and precious girl, easily led, easily coerced. All her life, those who have hatred in their hearts have desired to have their way with her." 

Hatred in their hearts. 

A sacrifice to the goddess of your self-hatred. To love her would be to slaughter her. 

Samantha adjusts herself in her seat, trying to wrench herself out of the pit that was forming underneath her. She must survive this, must defend herself. "I've committed no such abuse of her-,"

"Are you aware of the circumstances which necessitated Esther's entry into cloistered life?" Pullwater asks, as though this would silence any argument. 

"She required stability," Samantha answers softly. "A place for peace." 

And to her great surprise, Pullwater shakes her head. 

"Before she joined us," the old nun begins, "Esther was engaged to a dear friend of the community. A soldier. Corporal Dennings. Theirs was a happy engagement, smiled upon by all - and I especially was thrilled to learn of the Corporal's enthusiastic support for the twice-born." She pauses, letting the silence spell disaster for the story. "And that is when we learned of Miss Candice Hull." 

Samantha's mind races. Esther had told her none of this. As far as Samantha was aware, the woman had never been engaged - she'd remarked constantly that she'd wished it had occurred. Had been desperate for it. And for all her stories of rowdy adolescence and early adulthood, she had never mentioned Candice Hull.

Pullwater continues. "She was a wayward woman, prone to drink and dance, and something in her vile heart set its gaze upon Esther." She pauses, as though overcome with the wickedness of such an idea. "Miss Hull sought Esther out incessantly, always securing some way to be beside her, regardless of Esther's lack of mutual interest in friendship. But, Miss Hull had no desire for friendship.