She thrust the little book at him: Bishop England’s catechism, Joseph realized. He read the section she’d underlined fiercely:
Q. What is the reason so many marriages prove unhappy?
A. Because many enter into that holy state from unworthy motives, and with guilty consciences; therefore the marriages are not blessed by God.
Cautiously Joseph raised his eyes to her.
“I never, never should have married Edward. I knew that!”
Joseph sat heavily in a chair at her side.
“But there were so many reasons to say ‘Yes,’ and only one to say ‘No.’ I thought, in time, gratitude wouldbecomelove. I thought:Edward will give me children, and I will love him for that if nothing else!” Her body convulsed in a bitter laugh. “He wassopersistent! And I was flattered. He took me to balls and concerts and plays.”
What had Hélène said?“It’s like the prince and Cinderella!”Who could say no to a prince?
“Have you ever been hungry, Father? I don’t mean fasting—has there ever been a time when every fiber of your bodybeggedfor nourishment, and you had nothing to give it but seaweed?”
Joseph shook his head.
“It happens nearly every year in Ireland, between the potato crops—and sometimes theyfail. Do you know what it’s like to watch your nieces and nephews starving?” Fresh tears marred her cheeks. “I didn’t want my children to suffer like that. Do you know what it’s like not to choose poverty as a vow, but to have itgroundinto you, day after day after day? You think:There is a reason for this. God is displeased with me. I deserve this.” Tessa lowered her eyes from his face. “And still you long for what you cannot have, because ’tis right there in front of you. Finally you tell yourself:Even if I never find happiness myself, I can give it to my brother and my dearest friend with a single word!”
“Edward promised Liam the apprenticeship if you married him,” Joseph realized.
“He— He never said that.”
“But you knew if you refused Edward, he would have no reason to help your brother.”
She nodded miserably.
Tessa had sold herself. No—that was too vulgar. She had sacrificed herself for the people she loved, just as her family had feared she might in Ireland. She had fled one oppression only to find another.
“God is not punishing you, Tessa—He istestingyou.”
“Then I havefailed.” She stared at him so intently now that it terrified him. “You don’t know, Father. You don’t know the things I’ve done—the things I’vethought.”
“Have you confessed these sins?”
“It doesn’t matter! Ikeepcommitting them!” Her voice descended so far into sobs he could hardly understand her. “I’m committing themright now!”
“I can hear your Confession, if?—”
She shook her head violently, her long hair trembling all about her. “Please, go away.”
“Do you want me to send Father Baker?”
“Leave me alone!” Tessa screamed. “Why won’t you leave me alone?!”
Joseph obeyed.
Three days later,he was in the library at the Bishop’s residence when Mrs. O’Brien announced a caller.
Tessa swept past the housekeeper and knelt at his feet. “Forgive me, Father.”
“Of course.” When she did not rise, Joseph knelt himself and peered beneath her bonnet. A deep flush stained Tessa’s face, and rivulets of sweat descended her temples. It was August, after all—and she was corseted again. Joseph glanced to Mrs. O’Brien. “Could you fetch us some water, please?”
He led Tessa to a chair and helped her untie the stubborn ribbons at her throat. When she pulled the bonnet away from her hair, Joseph started as if she were a stranger. Those glorious bronze tresses had been severed at the nape of her neck. He fell into the chair across from her. Joseph remembered a story Father Verchese had told him in Rome: when a wife proved barren, her merciless husband had shorn off her long hair, yelling:You might as well be a boy!“Tessa? What happened to your hair?”
She did not meet his eyes. “I cut it. As a sacrifice. So God will let me keep the next child. To show Him that nothing else matters to me.” She accepted the glass of water from Mrs. O’Brien and hid in it.
