“Bring my rod,” she said quietly. “And the bindings. We shall get to the bottom of this.”
The two sisters fled the chamber to do the Mother Abbess’ bidding.
The Mother Abbess was alone in her solar now, waiting for what was to come. She’d been at the helm of St. Blitha for many years, and she’d seen many women during that time. Scores of them. It was rare that a nun died of old age at St. Blitha, simply because the Mother Abbess liked to play God with the women under her care, but it was something they didn’t know until it was too late.
For Andressa, she was about to receive a warning before itwastoo late.
Or perhaps it already was.
In any case, the girl had gone out, at least twice that day that she knew of, both times with the excuse of delivering or gathering laundry at Lady Hinkley’s fine manor home. But when she returned last night, it had been with no laundry and a male escort.
A lover.
The Mother Abbess had a lover, too, but she was well past the age of worrying over conceiving a child, so her activities were without fear. When the Bishop of Essex came to St. Blitha as he did several times a year, she would join him in the Abbot’s Lodge on the grounds, and they would fornicate most of the night. He chose her over younger women, because he’d had trouble in the past with nuns bearing his children. At least, they’d become pregnant, but the children were never born.
He’d made certain of it.
The Mother Abbess knew all about that, so their trysts were mutually beneficial– Aatto de Horndon, Bishop of Essex, was a tall, thin, and weak-looking man with a long tongue and a manhood that was nearly half the length of his thigh when it was aroused. He could bring a woman to her pleasure in mere seconds, and the Mother Abbess looked forward to his visits toSt. Blitha. Rumor had it that he shared lovers with the king, though the Mother Abbess had never been part of that particular exchange. Not that she cared. Her life was such that she didn’t care, nor was she attached, to anyone or anything.
Meaning she had little to no feelings towards Andressa and what was about to happen. If the girl wasn’t guilty, there would be no regret, but if she was guilty, then there would be some pleasure in punishing her.
And then The Chaos could have her.
The Mother Abbess moved away from the window, thoughts turning away from the bishop’s impending visit to Andressa. Her great Staff of Truth was propped against the wall over near the entry door and she went to collect it. In fact, she stood next to the doorway, just inside it, holding the staff, waiting for the door to open.
It wasn’t long in coming.
Sister Petronilla entered first, followed by Andressa. They entered the chamber, not seeing the Mother Abbess because she was standing back by the door, against the wall. They only noticed her when she shut the door behind them.
“Andressa,” the Mother Abbess said. “I understand you came back late last night.”
Andressa, who hasn’t been inordinately concerned when Sister Petronilla summoned her to the Mother Abbess’ private solar, was now filled with fear at the sight of the Mother Abbess standing by the door with her Staff of Truth in-hand.
It was the staff that had her eye, because that was the Mother Abbess’ most fearsome weapon. When it was in her hand, there was always the chance that, somehow, she might use it.
Andressa took a deep breath.
“I did, Gracious Mother,” she said, trying not to sound terrified. “Is there a concern?”
The Mother Abbess came away from the door, using the staff as a walking stick at this point. Her movements were casual, slow, but that was deceptive. It was like watching the lethargy of a serpent before it lashed out.
“I would like for you to tell me if there is,” she said. “Where is the washing you said you would collect from Lady Hinkley?”
Andressa faced her with as much courage as she could muster. There was no washing, even though she’d made a point of stopping by Lady Hinkley’s late in the night, with Maxton by her side. If Lady Hinkley was asked, she wanted the woman to confirm that she had, indeed, been there. It had been a carefully executed action to cover her tracks.
“She gave me none, Gracious Mother,” she replied. “She did ask me to return, thinking her clothing from the day would need washing, but she decided not to give it to me.”
“Did she say why?”
“She wanted to wear the garments today for a visit.”
The Mother Abbess came to stand next to her, the staff in her hand just a few inches away from Andressa.
“I see,” she said. “And if I were to ask her if you had visited her, would she tell me you had?”
Andressa nodded firmly. “I would encourage you to do so, Gracious Mother,” she said. Then, she glanced at Sister Petronilla before returning her attention to the Mother Abbess. “Is something wrong? Have I done something?”
The Mother Abbess’ gaze lingered on her, the weight of her stare so very heavy, for a few moments before turning away.
