by Rose Pearson
“Mother Superior,” Deborah murmured, lowering her head in deference as the lady caught her hands. “I have returned from Lord Abernathy’s estate.”
“So I see,” Mother Superior replied, her smile beginning to fade as she took in the paleness of Deborah’s face and saw the dark circles around her eyes. “My child, you are exhausted!”
Deborah felt tears threaten yet again but pushed them aside, trying to smile back at Mother Superior. “I am quite well.”
Mother Superior shook her head, her expression growing concerned. “I did not think that Lord Abernathy’s condition would take so much out of you, Deborah. You must rest at once!” She patted Deborah’s hand and began to lead her back inside. “You returned in Lord Abernathy’s carriage?”
“A hired carriage, Mother Superior,” Deborah told her, recalling how she had spoken to Mr. Morris about such a thing and how it had all been arranged without Lord Abernathy’s knowledge. “The bill is to be sent to Lord Abernathy, as was agreed when I first accepted the post.”
Mother Superior nodded, although her eyes were still lit with concern. “The journey must have been difficult,” she said, peering into Deborah’s face as though seeking confirmation as to why Deborah appeared so exhausted. “Did you not sleep?”
Deborah shook her head, her throat closing with sobs. “I did not,” she stated, her lips quivering. “I am in great need of rest, I think.”
Mother Superior said nothing, her lips pressed together as she led Deborah back to her small room. It was vastly different in both size and appearance from the rooms she had been given at Lord Abernathy’s estate but in its own way, it was warm and welcoming, as though reaching out to give Deborah a fond embrace over her return.
“Thank you, Mother Superior,” Deborah stammered when they reached her room. “I – I think I will need to rest for some hours, although I would not want you to think me idle or lazy.”
Mother Superior clicked her tongue, frowning at Deborah. “I would never think such a thing of you, Deborah,” she said, firmly, letting go of Deborah’s hand. “The Almighty says that we must rest in Him. We are told to ‘lie down and sleep in peace’, are we not?”
“Yes, of course,” Deborah agreed, sinking down onto her thin bed and feeling so weary that it was all she could do not to collapse onto the sheet and close her eyes. “‘He will watch over those He loves’,” she quoted, managing to smile up at Mother Superior although she was aware it was a little lackluster. “I am ready to take my vows, Mother Superior.”
To Deborah’s surprise, Mother Superior did not immediately accept this from Deborah with the gladness Deborah had expected. Instead, Mother Superior’s brows remained lowered, her eyes sharp as she studied Deborah’s face.
“Rest, my child,” Mother Superior said, eventually. “Lie down and rest, for you are weary. Such things can be discussed when you have recovered some of your strength.”
Deborah nodded, hating that a single tear had managed to escape from her eye and was now trickling down her cheek.
Mother Superior came to stand by her side and rested one hand on Deborah’s head, her eyes filled with compassion. “You have endured more than I had ever expected,” she said, softly. “I can see that your heart is burdened.”
Closing her eyes, Deborah felt more tears escape to run down her cheeks.
“We will speak of all your burdens once you are rested,” Mother Superior continued, her hand on Deborah’s head sending a sliver of peace into her heart. “Sleep now, my child. Come and seek me out when you are recovered.”
“I will,” Deborah promised, her voice a broken whisper as Mother Superior walked to the door. “Thank you, Mother Superior. It is a comfort to return home at last.”
Mother Superior smiled and nodded. “It is good to have you restored to us also, Deborah,” she said, quietly. “I will speak to you again soon.”
The door closed behind Mother Superior and Deborah immediately collapsed onto the bed. It was much harder than the bed she had been given at Lord Abernathy’s estate but Deborah did not care. Pushing herself up so that her head rested on the pillow, she pulled the thin sheet over herself and let her tears soak into the fabric by her head. Her eyes closed tightly, her mind filled with Lord Abernathy and all that she had left behind.
Silently, Deborah wondered if Lord Abernathy was aware of her departure. She had begged Mr. Morris not to say a word to his master and had not even spoken to Lady Markham of it either. She had not had the strength to do so, knowing that if she told the lady of what she had planned, that Lady Markham would beg her not to do so and would clutch at her hand, trying to get her to stay. Had she done that, then Deborah might have confessed all, and things would have become all the more difficult for everyone within the household.
Mr. Morris and Mrs. Denton had helped her pack her things and had found a hired carriage to take Deborah away from the estate in the early hours of the morning before the rest of the house was awake. They had both been sad to see her leave, although Mrs. Denton had a knowing look in her eyes that had told Deborah she was all too aware of why Deborah needed to leave with such urgency.
Deborah had not looked back at the estate as the carriage had rumbled away. Instead, she had sunk into her seat and closed her eyes, praying fervently for strength. She had wept over Lord Abernathy for long enough, she had told herself, even though the tears continued to burn in her eyes. She had been foolish and had lost her way, forgetting all that she had once hoped for, once lived for. The abbey was her home. Her hope had always been to take her orders – and why had she allowed herself to forget that? In tending to Lord Abernathy, she had found herself in a world that she knew nothing of, caught in a life where she had felt emotions never before stirred within her, but she had allowed them to take a firm hold. In doing so, she had glimpsed a future different from the one she had always accepted. A future that could never be.
Weeping silently into her pillow, Deborah pulled the sheet up around her shoulders and prayed that God would take her distress from her. She needed to forget entirely about Lord Abernathy and the life that she had lived whilst she had been in his household. It was time to focus back on what was important, on what she had always thought she would do. Her life would be one of service, of devotion to God and a desire to care for those less fortunate. She did not need love, she told herself, feeling her heart ache so painfully that it was all she could do to keep from crying out.
Finally, her tears abated and Deborah found herself relaxing into sleep. Her eyes closed tight, her body softening into the mattress as her mind finally pulled free from the agony that tormented her, allowing her free from her troubles as she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
It was the following morning before Deborah awoke. Her eyes felt heavy, her heart weighted down in her chest as she struggled to sit up. Everything ached, her body felt stiff and sore as she attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes. The morning sunshine filtered into her room through the single small window that was above her bed.
Getting up, Deborah forced herself to wash and dress despite the urge to climb back under the sheet and remain there. She could not do so now, not when she had to speak to Mother Superior whom she knew would be waiting for her.
“Help me to remain strong,” she whispered, her prayer for strength seeming to go unanswered. She felt as weak and as alone as before, her heart crying out with the pain of what had occurred. If she could, Deborah would have forced herself to forget Lord Abernathy entirely, pushing him from her mind so that she would not have to feel the pain that came with even a thought of him.
Brushing her hair and tying it back neatly, Deborah drew in a long breath and set her shoulders in an attempt to steady herself. Walking from her room, she encountered a few of the nuns on their way back from prayers. Each smiled at her and greeted her warmly, with a few stopping to press her hands and ask how she was faring after her time away. Deborah answered as honestly as she could, their kindness bringing a gentle relief to her
sorrow. She did not speak about Lord Abernathy in detail, nor did she reveal the feelings that lingered in her heart. It was too painful to articulate.
At last, she reached Mother Superior’s rooms and was called to enter. Mother Superior was sitting at her table, her head bent over her prayer book. Deborah stammered and made to leave, only for Mother Superior to beckon her in.
“Sit down, Deborah,” Mother Superior said, quietly, gesturing for Deborah to sit down opposite. “I was just praying for you, praying that our time together would be helpful and…..enlightening.” She smiled at Deborah, who clasped her hands tightly together in front of her, already a little anxious about what she would have to say.
“I feel that there is something deep within your heart that you need to share, Deborah,” Mother Superior continued, leaning across the table and looking intently at Deborah. “I have been praying for you since you returned back to us and my heart has become troubled for you.”
Deborah, who had been determined not to cry again, found her shoulders slumping and her heart filling with an overwhelming sense of grief.
“You are sorrowful, my child,” Mother Superior said, softly. “Tell me of it, my dear girl. What has happened to cause you so much distress?”
“I – I am ready to take my vows,” Deborah replied, her voice breaking. “Please, allow me to do so, Mother Superior.”
Mother Superior shook her head. “I cannot, Deborah, not when I see you in such distress. I must know what has happened to tear you apart in this manner.”
Deborah sniffed indelicately and pulled out her handkerchief. “It is just that….” She struggled to find the words. “It is just that my heart has been so overwhelmed with emotion that I have found myself longing for things I should not have even allowed myself to consider!”
Mother Superior nodded, a look of understanding in her eyes. “You drew near to Lord Abernathy?”
Closing her eyes tightly, Deborah nodded jerkily, shame rising up within her.
“That is to be expected,” Mother Superior continued, no sound of reproach in her voice. “And he drew near to you?”
“Oh, Mother,” Deborah cried, unable to contain herself any longer. “How foolish I have been! I thought that he might come to care for me, I allowed myself to consider my feelings and let them grow!” She buried her face in her hands, shaking her head. “I should have pushed them aside! I should have remembered what I want from this life.”
Mother Superior got up from her chair and came around the table so that she might put a gentle hand on Deborah’s shoulder. “And what is it that you want from this life, Deborah?”
“To be as you are,” Deborah replied, her voice muffled by her hands as well as her tears. “To take my vows.”
Mother Superior said nothing for a few moments, allowing Deborah to cry without restraint. She remained by Deborah’s side, a comfort and a stalwart in her trouble, just as she had always been.
“So, you were not asked to leave the estate?” Mother Superior asked, carefully, as Deborah managed to regain enough composure to let her hands drop from her tear-lined face. “You left?” She resumed her seat again and looked Deborah in the eye.
Deborah nodded, feeling as though there were no tears left within her to cry. “Lord Abernathy and I shared what I thought was a deeply beautiful moment,” she said, honestly, her voice shaking with emotion. “It gave me hope that what I had begun to feel might be returned – but then I overheard him speaking of another and all hope seemed lost.”
“I see,” Mother Superior murmured, her expression growing concerned all over again. “And so you decided that you could not remain? You did not think to speak to Lord Abernathy in order to make sure that you hadn’t been mistaken with what you had heard?”
“It was quite plain,” Deborah replied, heavily. “I could not be mistaken, even though it went against everything that I thought I knew of him.”
Mother Superior’s eyebrows rose. “There is some confusion, then.”
Deborah shook her head fervently. “No, there is not. I thought I knew Lord Abernathy but it appears I do not.”
“Oh, Deborah.” Mother Superior’s face was wreathed in smiles, bringing a joy to her face that Deborah did not quite understand. “What if you are mistaken, my dear child? What if there is something about what you overheard that has led you down this path when it was not meant to?”
A faint nagging doubt began to creep into Deborah’s mind.
“You have said yourself that you do not understand what was said to you by Lord Abernathy and what you then overheard,” Mother Superior said, plainly. “Why not go back to him and ask?”
“I cannot!” Deborah exclaimed, going hot all over at the thought of returning the estate. “It would not be right, Mother! He is a Duke and I am –”
“That does not matter,” Mother Superior said, firmly, interrupting Deborah. “God has His ways for us, Deborah. You cannot turn your back on what might be His plan for you.”
Deborah closed her eyes, her mind swimming with thoughts. “I cannot,” she whispered, brokenly. “I want to take my vows.”
Mother Superior laughed softly, although there was no derision in it. “My dear girl,” she said, tenderly. “You do not want to take your vows. I can see that, just from speaking with you. Your heart is joined to Lord Abernathy’s, is it not? You are using this as a way to escape from what you feel. Do not do so, Deborah. Go back to the estate. Speak to him.”
Deborah trembled violently, aware that Mother Superior had seen into the depths of her heart and had seen that she did not, in all honesty, wish to become a nun. If she were honest with herself, she wanted nothing more than to return to Lord Abernathy and to become a part of his life again, but she had come to believe that such a thing could never occur again.
What if you were wrong?
The quiet voice crept back into her mind and Deborah took in a shuddering breath. She had left the estate in haste, her mind and heart broken and pained as she had struggled to comprehend what had been said. She had never even thought of speaking to Lord Abernathy, to tell him the truth of what had been in her heart and what she had overheard! Her determination to quit the house had been the only thing on her mind.
“I am afraid.”
“I know,” Mother Superior replied, gently, “but courage is always difficult, my dear girl. It will bring its own reward, however, if only you can hold onto it tightly.”
Deborah looked across at Mother Superior and saw the quiet peace in her expression. How she longed to have such a peace within herself. “You do not think any less of me for turning my back on the abbey?” she asked, her fingers twisting in her lap. “You do not think it is wrong?”
“No.” Mother Superior’s smile assuaged all of Deborah’s guilt in one quick moment. “There is nothing wrong in seeking a life and a family of your own, Deborah. Remove any thought of shame from yourself.”
Deborah let out her breath slowly, the tension leaving her frame. “You have always been so kind to me, Mother Superior. You took me in when I had no-one. You are my family. This place is my home.”
“And yet things change,” Mother Superior replied, getting up from her chair and encouraging Deborah to rise also. “A daughter must leave her home at some time, must she not?”
“I suppose she must,” Deborah agreed, still feeling a little uncertain and certainly not at all sure about what she had just agreed to. “What should I do now?”
Mother Superior laughed and opened the door. “Do whatever you wish,” she replied. “Wait a few days, pray, read and consider. Or, if you know what your heart is telling you, then act quickly. Do not wait.” She grasped Deborah’s hands. “Although I shall miss you.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Deborah whispered, her heart swelling in her chest as she realized she was taking her leave of Mother Superior for what might be the last time. All she could do was hope that Lord Abernathy would not reject her when she returned to the estate to tell him the truth. The truth
that she loved him with such fierceness, such passion, that she did not think it would ever let her heart go.
Chapter Fifteen
The estate was just as grand as Deborah remembered it. The journey back to Lord Abernathy’s home had been filled with tension, with Deborah going from despair to wild hope and then back again.
The carriage began to make its way up the gravel driveway, the wheels rumbling beneath her. Deborah felt her heart climb up her throat as she looked at the house she had begun to think of as her home. What would Lord Abernathy say when he saw her arriving again? Would he be glad of her company? Or would there be a disappointment in his face that she had chosen to return? Perhaps he was already in the company of Lady Cavendish and was enjoying her conversation and the like. Perhaps her absence had meant nothing to him.
As the carriage approached the front of the house, Deborah saw a figure throwing open the front door, before hurtling down the steps towards the carriage. Her skirts billowing, Lady Markham stood in anxious anticipation as the carriage came to a stop, her eyes wide and fingers pressed together by her lips. Deborah swallowed hard, knowing that she had grievously injured Lady Markham by not telling her that she was leaving the estate. It had felt too difficult at the time but, as she saw her friend now, Deborah realized that it had been quite selfish of her to do so.
“Oh, Deborah!” Lady Markham had not even waited for the footman to open the door before pulling it open herself and reaching for Deborah’s hand. “You have come back. Oh, thank goodness you have come back!”
A swirl of fear encircled Deborah’s heart. “Is something wrong, Judith?” she asked, as her friend stepped aside so that Deborah could make her way out of the carriage. “I have been gone but a few days, I know, and I ought not to have left without speaking to you first, but I –”
Lady Markham shook her head, still grasping Deborah’s hand. “I can understand why you did,” she said, softly. “One of the maids saw you crying, Deborah, although they did not tell me this until after we learned you had left.” Her eyes searched Deborah’s face, a sadness etched into her expression. “You overheard my brother and I talking, did you not?”
