The Now Former Lady Deveroux Ch. 03

Chapter Three

Samantha was loath to admit it, but two more weeks of Esther's constant company leaves her different than before. The initial discomfort at being associated with a Sister wears away, and the gut-wrenching reaction to her innocence and insistent holiness simmers. The nun could find a way to be pleasant with truly anyone, a skill which Samantha grows to respect, if only for how useful it would have been in the upper echelons of society. Sure, Samantha had found ways to fake polite respect, but she had never achieved what Esther seems capable of: not faking it. The woman, through some mysterious machinations of her inner soul, actually seemed to believe what she professed. She saw the good in people. Samantha found the bad.

And then, a little bit more of Esther's carefully manicured righteousness peels away to reveal the dynamic woman underneath. Get her tipsy, and she'd be willing to make a few snarky comments about obnoxious parishioners or annoying children at the orphanage. It never ventured into any level of true hostility, and she always counter-balanced it with compliments leveled at the very same targets, but it was enough for Samantha to accept she must be more than just a naïve woman of god.

She was growing to trust Samantha, and the former noblewoman found herself also growing to trust Esther. Esther asked her of her mother, and Samantha would share nearly anything and everything the nun wished to hear. Samantha, on the other hand, would poke around to find what mischief her past life was filled with, and Esther found herself able to give Samantha what she wanted.

Which is why, as the two of them lay down upon a picnic blanket just outside of the city, nestled away on a hilltop where they might find some peace and quiet that would make such a hike worthwhile, Esther is saying:

"Rebecca? Oh, she was beautiful!" She lets out a chirp of laughter, feeling free and easy-going in the shade of the large oak tree at their backs, protecting them from the early afternoon sun. "Everyone always joked that she was a princess in disguise," she adds with a puff of nostalgia, "And sure, I loved that about her. But truly I was far more interested in how much she adored skinny dipping."

Her hands flick up to her chest, holding her palms tightly before her and reveling in the salacious detail revealed. Her laugh is almost lower than her voice, full-hearted and booming, and it usually has a habit of pulling a mutual smile out of Samantha as well. She doesn't let herself be quite as boisterous as Esther is when she feels delighted, but she relaxes into the moments a little more than before. Years and years of scrutiny amongst the gentry taught her to hold her cards close to her chest, and she'd only just begun letting Esther peek at them now and again.

Esther sits up, gazing out over the green hills around them. Early spring wildflowers have popped up through the tall grasses, giving the walking trails through them an extra pop of wondrous color. Esther continues, her hair removed from its veil and braid and floating with the soft breeze.

"It was so scandalous, but I must've gone with her five or six times. She always wondered why I was so eager," she recalls fondly, then sighs out to the air around them, "Ah, Rebecca..."

"I will never tire of your honesty," Samantha rolls over onto her back, gazing up at the leaves above which were just finally coming back from the winter. "It is remarkably easy to pull stories from you that I would never utter aloud to anyone."

"I was a different person then," Esther shrugs. "I cared for little and believed myself less than nothing." Her head inclines over her shoulder as though to assure herself Samantha was not mocking her. "It is a miracle no one proposed marriage to me - I was so eager for approval I would've accepted anyone's ring." She faces back towards the city and says, "Pelton was a very different place than Bellchester."

Samantha sits up, joining her in surveying the large city sprawling around them. It wasn't the biggest city in the country, by either size or by population, but industrialization had sent the city bursting forth in the last century. Plumes of smoke rise over the area she knew to be the railyards and the factory districts, separated by a surprisingly pleasant downtown and surrounding neighborhoods. She can't quite pick out the bell tower of St. Bartholomew's, but it was there, somewhere.

"In what way?" Samantha asks.

"It was tiny, and there was hardly anything to do," the nun pulls her legs in and crosses them over one another. "Naturally that meant my predominant past time was getting into trouble, solely because it was at least some excitement. Bellchester is bursting with people! I adore it." She stretches her arms out, holding them as though she could fit the whole of the city before them between her palms. She releases a satisfied breath. "And, there are others like me now."

"I imagine all you had there was a tiny parish," Samantha presumes. "There are far more Sister's here."

"And I've even met some other twice-born."

She says this like it was a fact Samantha had already known, but the noblewoman finds herself tending to a surge of surprise in her chest. Her head whips over to Esther, studying her quickly, and she utters, "You're...?"

"Twice-born?" Esther's lips open into a smile. "Oh, yes."

"You never told me. I had no idea."

"You didn't ask," Esther says simply.

"I'm not in the business of asking every person in my life if they are twice-born," Samantha complains.

Esther flops back down onto the blanket, throwing her hands up behind her head as she watches Samantha with a furrowed brow. "Your former-lover-turned-roommate was twice-born. I didn't think it mattered."

"It doesn't," Samantha replies quickly. "I simply didn't expect it."

She finds herself cataloging every twice-born individual that she had met in her life, quickly going through the short list. There was Annette, who Samantha had the most intimate interactions with. There was Bill, the barkeep of the Faery who's wife owned the bar, whom Samantha had spoken the most with. And there was the young Judith Velore, one of the children at St. Bartholomew's orphanage. And now, Esther.

"I imagine Annette would be excited to meet you upon her return," Samantha says after a few moments. "And Judith."

A flash of recognition flitters through Esther's eyes. "Oh, how I adore little Miss Velore!" She releases a long exhale, likely recalling her own interactions with the young girl. Once satisfied, her face grows more serious, though it retains its typical warmth and familiarity, and she adds, "My aunt has told me a great deal about Miss Baker. In a way, it seems that she and I are cousins, though not by blood. Connections such as that truly make the world feel such a small place, don't you think?"

"Is that why Sister Pullwater is so supportive of the twice-born?" Samantha wonders aloud. "Because of your rebirth?"

Esther shakes her head. "She was supportive before either Annette or myself were born. I didn't know her well then, but she came by to visit my mother when I was six. While there for a few weeks, at some point she made some comment about the twice-born, I can't remember what it was." She pauses for a moment to think, then shrugs and continues. "Anyway, I'd never known rebirth was an option before then, but I leapt up and declared, 'That's what I am!'"

Samantha can nearly picture it, Esther, then just a small boy, announcing forth her identity with the same trumpeting honesty that was so characteristic of her now. She smiles a little as she imagines the moment, then allows Esther to continue her story.

"My parents hated that," Esther recalls, "but Sister Pullwater lectured them for hours and hours about their duty to God and the necessity of rebirth for those who were called to it. It was awesome - which is to say, terrifying for anyone on the receiving end of such a lecture from her. I didn't see her very much after that trip, but she would write and check in upon me every now and again." She runs her hands through her sunny brunette hair, readjusting the strands so they flow out from the top of her head against the ground like she was under water. "I didn't know until recently that a few years later, she took on a twice-born girl a little younger than me as something of a daughter."

Samantha doesn't even realize she'd been caught thinking silently until Esther pokes her and remarks, "You've gone quiet."

The former noblewoman chuckles to herself, and is a little embarrassed to admit, "I was praising myself for learning something more about you. Favorite color: green. Used to be a troublemaker. Grew up in a small town. Twice-born."

"There is hope for you after all," Esther decides, closing her eyes and resting in the soft warmth of the day.

Samantha settles back into the comfort of quiet company, allowing her eyes to wander around the open area before them with an understanding that today was a pleasant day. And not just for the fact that it was ideal weather and a lovely temperature, but because a small part of herself understood that she was feeling better than she had in some time. The grand conspiracy to remove her ability to live the life she enjoyed seems to have, for at least the present few weeks, dissipated.

And then a connection sparks in her brain, a little reflex that had been honed and practiced and cultivated out of necessity and pleasure. There was that impending sense of prospect bubbling forth, having identified a moment that was ripe for the taking. She could stifle it, to be sure, ignore the association she had just made and continue on with the afternoon as before; or, she could embrace it, allow it to carry her forward as it always had done, unfailingly guiding her towards something new and exciting. She knows immediately which impulse would win out.

She releases a low laugh, breaking the silence without explanation. Esther turns to her, pleased to hear her moment of joy, and asks, "What is it?"

Samantha pulls her hair out of its braid and runs her hand through it, natural and attractive. "The story of myself and Miss Baker that Father Billings told you..." She speaks slowly and softly, drawing Esther in. "You were impressed that Annette was so well taken care of because you are twice-born-,"

Esther blushes and quickly deflects, "That was simply an-,"

"-And," Samantha presses on, "you were excited to learn that I knew my way around girls such as you."

"Nonsense," the Sister puffs, quickly averting her gaze.

"You're blushing!" Samantha giggles. "Was that a lie, Sister Levy? You'll have to confess."

The nun makes no further effort to hide the flush of pink over her cheeks, instead deflecting, "Perhaps I was simply happy that another woman like me found delight."

Samantha's eyes meet hers and hold her stare until Esther flusters and looks away. "You've already declared you have interest in me. Do you fantasize about me?"

"I was still deciding my motivations."

"Answer the second question."

Esther is smiling, more from nerves than anything else. "I would rather not."

Samantha gasps playfully. "You've answered all of my other enquiries," she says, then asks, "Have you spoken about me during confession?"

Esther purses her lips. "No, I have not."

"So you've hidden your sins?"

"I am interested only in your friendship," she insists, though her voice betrays her ever-so-slightly.

"Is that so?" Samantha asks, shifting herself closer on the blanket towards Esther. "So your heart is not beating faster as I approach?"

"So what if it does?" She blushes again.

"And if I lean over you..." Samantha muses, lifting her torso over Esther's and guiding the girl to lay her back against the blanket. "... gazing down upon you as though I might kiss you, this stirs nothing?"

Esther can't hide either her nervous grin or the increase in her breathing. Her eyes dart away, too sheepish to meet Samantha's slowly encroaching stare. "I can resist the temptation."

Samantha places a hand beside her head, allowing her golden hair to curtain down towards the Sister. "Alas, man is not meant to be perfect."

"I am no man," Esther attempts, though her voice is breathy and light.

"How brave of you, to taunt me nearer..." She waits until Esther cautiously meets her eyes, before allowing hers to drift suggestively lower. Her voice drops to a cool whisper. "And if I were to touch you... it would neither be wet nor hard?"

"Correct," Esther almost whimpers.

"Say only the word and I will not continue pressing myself closer," Samantha directs, continuing to lower herself down at a teasingly slow pace. "Say the word, dear Sister..." Esther is silent. "Say it..."

Esther closes her eyes, her breath leaving her in a tightly controlled stream. "I can resist the temptation..." She mutters.

"It is within your power to do so. Simply ask me to rise and I shall," the confirms, careful not to let too much of herself touch Esther. The key was withholding, make her desperate to know what she would feel like; close enough that her scent and her warmth would bridge the gap between them. "Unless, of course, you don't wish wish to resist the temptation..."

"A-a moment to think."

Samantha purses her lips, loving watching the struggle play out over the girl's face. From this position, with the tension now finally realized, Samantha allows herself to appreciate the quiet beauty of the woman. If she weren't so often swaddled in the robes of the convent, she'd be an adorably attractive girl. A little plain, perhaps, but with loving eyes and soft cheeks, and brows that entreat a person nearer. Tucked together carefully her lips look so delightful to kiss, sweet and pink, and the expression she wears on her face battles between embarrassment, excitement, and strain. Samantha finds herself also needing to withstand the temptation to simply press down into her.

"Oh, you wish to be bad, don't you?" She taunts. "You've already sinned by lying about your fantasies... why not kiss me as well?"

Esther's hand, which for the whole duration has been wedged up closely to her side, slowly rises to brush the backs of her fingertips along the soft skin of Samantha's arm. They drift the whole length down as she opens her eyes, finally managing not to scurry away at the moment Samantha's meet hers. She takes a long breath in, and after exhaling whispers:

"Samantha, would you please rise from me, my dear?"

Samantha stiffens, then sighs and says, "Very well," rolling off over her and sitting upright at Esther's side. Esther sits up slowly, taking another few long breaths as she steadies herself, her face still holding on to its pink color.

"Well..." Esther croaks, "That was... educational."

Samantha smiles weakly. "I'm envious that the fantasy of me will likely be played with instead of the reality."

"Well," she says again, another deep breath separating her sentence, "She doesn't boast about the basic duties of friendship, so..." She tosses out a timid chuckle, then grows somber and adds, "I hope I have not hurt your feelings."

Samantha stretches her legs out and rests on her hands, then shakes her head. "My ego is damaged, I believe, but I suppose I ought to be used to that by now."

"And we will maintain our friendship?"

"If only to ensure you possess a vibrant set of fantasies." She sighs again, then adds in a low voice, "Should you ever desire to..."

Esther places her hand atop Samantha's and squeezes it. "You will be my first thought."

"Christ, a part of me admires you," Samantha admits, thinking about how differently she would react if the tables had been flipped. Then, a little surprised by her own response, "Dear God, you've tainted me. When Annette rejected me I was vitriolic. You've rejected me and somehow I've complimented you for it?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "Wretched."

She marvels at the moment, realizing that she was more impressed at Esther's fortitude than she would have thought. But the nun interrupts her reflection, shocking her by muttering, "Fuck..."

Samantha furrows her brow, impressed in a different way. "I have never heard you curse-,"

And then Esther's lips are hastily placed on hers. It's only for a rushed and frightened second, but the kiss catches Samantha's breath in her mouth, leaving her halfway between moments. She slips so easily into the effortless delight of feeling another's warmth upon her, only to find her delight stifled by Esther's quick retreat from her.

The nun pulls away, throwing her hands up to her mouth and muttering, with eyes widened, "I shouldn't have done that."

Samantha is already moving nearer to her once more. "Yes, you should have."

"No. No, I really shouldn't have," she asserts, a flutter of panic flashing out from her face and down her body. She launches up to her feet, anxiously fixing the parts of her robes that have tucked in on themselves. "I'm... forgive me," she pleads.

Samantha rises in tandem with her and is already striding towards her, positioning her in such a way that Esther's retreat causes her back to press up into the large oak tree behind them. Samantha enters into her space, her pride successfully stroked, and leans in towards her. "So it's my forgiveness you want now? I don't give it out easily."

"Saman-," she stops herself. "Miss Deveroux-,"

"You've already sinned, dear," another slow entreaty forward. "It wasn't something I did. You chose to kiss me just now. Why not make it worth it?"

"It was a mistake," the nun defends, her voice shaking with something that was either fear or excitement. Likely both.

"Then beg for my forgiveness..." She brings her head in, laying her palms against the bark on either side of Esther's head, and whispers into the woman's ear, "...or beg for my touch..."

"I'm sorry to have confused you so," Esther closes her eyes, her face contorting with embarrassed shame. "It was a moment of weakness I'll not soon repeat."

"You wanted to do it," Samantha reminds her, keeping herself positioned to block Esther's escape, though the Sister makes no attempt to leave. "It seems you didn't come to save me at all... you only came to have me for yourself," she remarks, slow and sultry, "... what a tease you are."

"Samantha," Esther pleads.

She repositions herself in such a way that her face is directly before Esther's, just a few inches separating them, close enough that their breaths could mingle and their eyes would hold together. "I will step back, all you need to do is ask. But," she emphasizes the word, leaving a carefully placed pause between thoughts to capture all of her attention, "it was the absence of my body over yours that compelled you to kiss me moments ago. Is it not more dangerous for you if I step away?"

Samantha drops her gaze to Esther's lips, and playfully bites her own, ensuring the Sister was captivated by her movements. "If I stay right here, you can pretend that it is only me who wants this; that I'm prepared to take it against your will. But if I leave, you'll be forced to admit to yourself that you want me just as badly..."

"I do," Esther admits, hardly above a whisper. "But I shouldn't."

Samantha drops her pitch lower and tilts her head to the side just slightly, giving Esther the visual of what it would look like if she were to be about to kiss her. "You should have the things you want..."

And Esther surprises her again, though not in any way Samantha finds titillating. The nun shuts her eyelids down, drawing her face into a cool shield from the woman before her. Her tone descends deeper into the desperate begging that it possessed moments ago, yet it feels weighed down by a greater pull of gravity.