Read Online Wages of Sin by Kate Benedict - Free Book Online Page A

hours passed. As evening began to fall, the sky darkened and the drizzle began again.
    That was how she saw the convent first: a dark shape against a rain-swept horizon, its grey stones as cold and ominous as the cloudy sky behind it. A shiver of premonition ran through her. It might have been a house of God, but her first impression was one of unholy evil. A miasma of darkness seemed to cling to it, chilling her to the very soul.
    Alice, however, was oblivious. She sighed in relief. ‘At last. I swear my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut. At least we shall be fed.’ She chuckled. ‘You never see a scrawny priest, do you? No doubt the nuns will eat well, too.’
    â€˜God’s blood, old woman,’ said Jane in disgust. ‘Do you never think of anything but your guts? You’d think you were glad to be here and see the back of me.’
    â€˜Oh, no,’ protested Alice. ‘Never that, my sweet. But you won’t be here forever. A few months and it’ll all be by.’ She shook her head. ‘If I thought not eating would make it pass the sooner, a bite would never pass my lips till you were safely home. But since it won’t, we might as well eat and keep our strength up.’
    Jane sighed and smiled ruefully. Perhaps she had a point, but her own appetite had deserted her. The closer they got, the worse she felt. It was as if the wings of some great bird of prey had swept over her. The watery sun was setting, and the shadows cast by the convent seemed to stretch towards her like dark, grasping fingers. She shivered again.
    As they clattered into the small courtyard and halted, silence enfolded them. The huge wooden door remained shut and there was none of the usual hustle and bustle of a normal household - just a hushed, expectant quiet. They looked at one another nervously.
    â€˜Should we knock?’ said Alice, so quietly that Jane could barely make out what she was saying. ‘Or do you think the nuns are at prayer?’
    â€˜What are you whispering for?’ Jane demanded. ‘My stepfather’s clerk wrote to say we were coming. We should be expected.’
    She stopped as the door creaked open, pushed by two nuns. They scuttled back inside and a tall woman, dressed in an immaculate habit, stepped onto the threshold. ‘I bid you welcome,’ she said, smiling humbly - but her eyes belied her words. They were as cold and grey as the stones of the convent and the smile on her lips did not reach them. High cheekbones in a face as white and cool as marble, and the arrogance barely concealed behind the humility, reminded Jane again of some monstrous bird of prey. A hawk, perhaps. Or a peregrine falcon, its threat hooded for the moment, but there beneath the surface.
    â€˜Thank you,’ she muttered through stiff lips. ‘We are weary after our long journey.’
    â€˜Then you must eat and refresh yourselves,’ the woman said. ‘Your men may sleep in the stables and feed at the kitchen door.’ She nodded her head graciously. ‘I am Ursula, Mother Superior here. You may call me Mother Ursula.’ She turned away and they followed her reluctantly inside.
    Despite the cold exterior the inside was not as frightening as Jane had imagined. Once they had availed themselves of the privy they were led into the refectory and found themselves seated at a long polished table.
    Broth was put in front of them and mulled wine and, once they had finished that, a pasty stuffed with meat was brought in. Alice fell to with a will, but Jane barely picked at hers.
    The nuns ate in silence, casting curious sideways glances at them when they thought Mother Ursula’s attention was elsewhere.
    It was a relief to escape finally to the guest dormitory.
    A warm fire burned in the hearth and the mattress was soft and well packed with straw. Alice bounced on it cheerfully.
    â€˜See,’ she said in a consoling tone of voice, ‘it’s not as bad as