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Authors: Georgina Gentry
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lustful notice of men!” the woman shouted at her. “Everything about you would attract men! But I will change all that! After months of prayer and penitence for your sinful urges, you will be glad to put aside the wicked world and thoughts of men, even as I did!”
Amethyst stood up. “I really don’t intend to stay that long,” she countered. “As soon as I convince Papa—”
“Oh, but unless he counters Mademoiselle Monique’s orders, you will see no one for some months! When that fine lady wrote me, sending such a generous donation for our order, she bemoaned your rebellious nature. Your future stepmother indicated that perhaps after months of prayer over your hostility, you might even consider taking the veil.”
“I think not,” Amethyst said coldly. Although the coming night was warm, she shivered. Tomorrow her last link with the outside, her chaperone, would leave on the stage that seldom came to this isolated place in the desert. After the woman’s departure, Amethyst might very well be held a prisoner here, never again to see the outside world. Did the Bishop know the Mother Superior here was as mad as a rabid dog? Evidently not or she would have been replaced.
The woman crossed the room, pulled the bell cord. “The old serving woman will take you to your room, provide you with proper clothing. You will observe silence at all times. We rise at four in the morning, meditate and pray until five, at which time we share a simple meal of plain gruel. At noon, there will be vegetables and more gruel.”
Amethyst knew better, but she was too ornery to pass up the remark. “Gruel!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yum! I can hardly wait!”
For a moment, she thought the madwoman would strike her with the heavy ring of keys. “Young lady, you lack humility and you are sassy and impudent! But after a few months here, we’ll change all that. Your attitude will become a more pliant, prayerful one.” The Mother Superior smiled. “We’re in the business of miracles, you know!”
The bent old woman came for Amethyst, escorted her to a small, sparsely furnished cubicle.
Late into the night, Amethyst lay staring at the ceiling of the cell-like room. For the first time in her life, she was really scared. She had a feeling that any letters of entreaty to her papa would be intercepted, whereas the Mother Superior would write glowingly of Amethyst’s progress and happiness at the abbey.
The ambitious Monique wanted a free hand with the Durango ranch and fortune. It dawned on Amethyst as she restlessly tossed and turned that even she might finally be broken in spirit by that madwoman until, like her, she would wish refuge from the world and decide to stay at the abbey forever.
The only thing that could get her out right away was her marriage. And that wasn’t likely, since she’d been betrothed for all these years to a man she never expected to claim her. Indeed, Papa was such a man of honor that he’d refused to let other men pay her court because of the agreement he’d made when Amethyst was only a child.
The thought of a husband brought to mind the big Texan’s taking her in his arms in the shadows of the trees. With a shivery thrill, she remembered the feel of his hot lips sucking at her small, pink nipples. At the thought, her breasts seemed to swell with anticipation. Closing her eyes, she remembered his square, hard hands as she’d kissed the backs of his knuckles. They had tasted and smelled of sunburned earth and soap. Again she felt those callused palms stroking her satin skin in a rough caress, his tongue invading her mouth deeply as he’d dominated her small body with his virile power. The act had offered such promise, such excitement.
Amethyst frowned suddenly in the darkness, her violet eyes opening wide as she remembered the act itself. She couldn’t imagine why poets praised this act of passion. Certainly as far as she was concerned, love was a big
Amethyst stood up. “I really don’t intend to stay that long,” she countered. “As soon as I convince Papa—”
“Oh, but unless he counters Mademoiselle Monique’s orders, you will see no one for some months! When that fine lady wrote me, sending such a generous donation for our order, she bemoaned your rebellious nature. Your future stepmother indicated that perhaps after months of prayer over your hostility, you might even consider taking the veil.”
“I think not,” Amethyst said coldly. Although the coming night was warm, she shivered. Tomorrow her last link with the outside, her chaperone, would leave on the stage that seldom came to this isolated place in the desert. After the woman’s departure, Amethyst might very well be held a prisoner here, never again to see the outside world. Did the Bishop know the Mother Superior here was as mad as a rabid dog? Evidently not or she would have been replaced.
The woman crossed the room, pulled the bell cord. “The old serving woman will take you to your room, provide you with proper clothing. You will observe silence at all times. We rise at four in the morning, meditate and pray until five, at which time we share a simple meal of plain gruel. At noon, there will be vegetables and more gruel.”
Amethyst knew better, but she was too ornery to pass up the remark. “Gruel!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yum! I can hardly wait!”
For a moment, she thought the madwoman would strike her with the heavy ring of keys. “Young lady, you lack humility and you are sassy and impudent! But after a few months here, we’ll change all that. Your attitude will become a more pliant, prayerful one.” The Mother Superior smiled. “We’re in the business of miracles, you know!”
The bent old woman came for Amethyst, escorted her to a small, sparsely furnished cubicle.
Late into the night, Amethyst lay staring at the ceiling of the cell-like room. For the first time in her life, she was really scared. She had a feeling that any letters of entreaty to her papa would be intercepted, whereas the Mother Superior would write glowingly of Amethyst’s progress and happiness at the abbey.
The ambitious Monique wanted a free hand with the Durango ranch and fortune. It dawned on Amethyst as she restlessly tossed and turned that even she might finally be broken in spirit by that madwoman until, like her, she would wish refuge from the world and decide to stay at the abbey forever.
The only thing that could get her out right away was her marriage. And that wasn’t likely, since she’d been betrothed for all these years to a man she never expected to claim her. Indeed, Papa was such a man of honor that he’d refused to let other men pay her court because of the agreement he’d made when Amethyst was only a child.
The thought of a husband brought to mind the big Texan’s taking her in his arms in the shadows of the trees. With a shivery thrill, she remembered the feel of his hot lips sucking at her small, pink nipples. At the thought, her breasts seemed to swell with anticipation. Closing her eyes, she remembered his square, hard hands as she’d kissed the backs of his knuckles. They had tasted and smelled of sunburned earth and soap. Again she felt those callused palms stroking her satin skin in a rough caress, his tongue invading her mouth deeply as he’d dominated her small body with his virile power. The act had offered such promise, such excitement.
Amethyst frowned suddenly in the darkness, her violet eyes opening wide as she remembered the act itself. She couldn’t imagine why poets praised this act of passion. Certainly as far as she was concerned, love was a big
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