Pride of the King, The (2 page)

There was a sharp rap at the door and the girls knew that their rest period was over, and it was time to help with the evening meal. "I'll meet you right after I talk to Mother Marie Margarite," said Lauren. She bit her lip, hesitating a moment before going on, "I'm sorry if you are having trouble with Joffrey. I'm not very good at listening."

Simone looked surprised, "What are you talking about? Joffrey? He's a thing of the past," she said, dismissing the subject. She turned and walked out of the room.

Lauren reported to the convent kitchen to dice potatoes. The room was bustling with activity, but she was in a world of her own full of anticipation and excitement about her new life. She stared out the window dreaming of her future.
Of course, they would send her to France. The nuns always sent young ladies of breeding to France. They never stayed in New Orleans. It was too backward
. At the very worst, Lauren thought, she would go to a plantation to serve as a governess, but even this held appeal. She would be free of the convent walls.

Suddenly, someone barked, "Lauren, the potatoes!" It was Sister Therese.

Lauren mumbled her apologies and went back to work. The nuns expected every girl, regardless of her background, to work at the Academy. There were twenty girls in residence at the convent; eighteen French girls, and two Natchez Indians. Each had a job to do and they bustled around the kitchen clattering pots and pans, rolling out dough and chopping vegetables. The nuns made certain that the students were proficient in everything, practical as well as scholarly. The Ursulines were the first religious order in the history of the Catholic Church to educate girls. Society had always viewed the female mind as inferior, but the Order took exception and began opening academies in spite of the criticism.

The Ursuline Order arrived in the Colony of New Orleans in 1727 and in a short time built a convent, hospital and an academy for girls. Now, two decades later, the good nuns educated not only French girls of wealth and privilege but slave girls and local Indians. They believed that all young women were entitled to an academic and spiritual education, not just the wealthy.

Most of the girls would marry shortly after leaving the academy but some would need to provide for themselves, so the Ursuline's instructed them in the care and breeding of the profitable silk worm. Many went on to lead independent, productive lives working on silkworm plantations.

The large stone building with shuttered windows was home to nuns and students in residence. The convent housed not only the academy but an orphanage as well. Lauren and Simone fell into this category. Born to wealthy French immigrants who came to New Orleans during the formation of the Mississippi Company, the twin girls never knew their mother. She died giving birth to them leaving a shattered and depressed Monsieur De Beauville to raise two youngsters alone. He descended into drink and debauchery, dying penniless and riddled with disease. The good sisters took in the girls shortly thereafter.

The hour had finally come. Lauren asked to be excused from her work in the kitchen. Her palms were perspiring as she knocked on the door of the office of the abbess.

"Come in," said a gentle voice.

It was stuffy inside the small office of Mother Marie Margarite. Because of the wind, the abbess had closed the window, and the smell of candle wax and lavender hung heavily on the air. The old woman sat behind a gargantuan oak desk. She folded her hands and smiled at Lauren. Although Mother Marie Margarite was a tiny woman, there was nothing small about her supervision of the convent and the academy. Her wizened face had endured years of hardship in the Old World and the New World, and because of these tribulations; she had become a strong and capable servant of the academy and of the Lord.

The abbess could see from her flushed cheeks that Lauren was excited. She felt more assured than ever that this placement was suitable. As Lauren entered the room, an older man stood up to greet her, holding out his hand.

"Lauren De Beauville, may I introduce Monsieur Adair Heathstone. He has traveled a long way to meet you, my dear, and we are very grateful to him for coming.”

The gentleman stepped forward kissed Lauren's hand and stepped back casting his eyes down respectfully. The girl's heart bumped in her chest.
Here at last was her employer ready to apprentice her to her new engagement.
Her mind raced with possibilities about the future and the new experiences she would embrace.
It was all very thrilling
. Swallowing back her excitement, Lauren managed to calm her nerves long enough to examine the man more closely. He was of later years, clean-shaven and neat. His clothing appeared well cut but austere. Except for a few gray hairs combed over his head and a small pigtail at his neck, he was completely bald. She noted that he was very thin, almost gaunt as he murmured something in another language.

"Monsieur Heathstone does not speak French," explained Mother Marie Margarite. "He is from the English Colonies."

"I see," said Lauren. Another world, she thought.
I shall be seeing new lands, meeting new people, Protestants even. What a delightful adventure
!

"As you know Lauren, we here at the academy want only the best for all of our girls. We have been searching long and hard for a placement for you. Because of your somewhat depleted financial condition, your prospects have been few. But our prayers were answered with Monsieur Adair Heathstone."

Mother Marie Margarite reached out to Lauren and took her hand. The abbess said joyfully, "Monsieur Heathstone is here to marry you."

Chapter 3

Lauren could not breathe. She pulled the office door shut behind her and struggled for air. The shocking news, the closeness of the room and the sight of that hideous man choked her to death. She could think of nothing but getting outside, outside to the garden where she could clear her mind and cleanse herself of this blasphemy.
Could the sisters not see what a mockery they made of the sacrament of marriage? The false vows she had to take? The whole thing was unthinkable!

She staggered down the dark hall, unaware of the thunder rumbling outside. Her pace quickened as her stomach churned. She broke into a full run.

By the time she threw the door open to the courtyard, she was retching violently. Rain poured over her, soaking her hair and gown as she stumbled toward the oak tree, slipping on the mud. At its base, she sank onto the muddy ground sobbing hysterically.

Someone called, "Lauren!" Lauren! Are you out here?” As dark as it was, Simone found her sister and pulled her into her arms. "Come in now!" she shouted over the thunder, "You will die of consumption out here. Come now!"

The oak tree flailed overhead as Simone pulled frantically at her sister. A gust of wind peppered rain into their faces, "I can't breathe in there. They have betrayed me!" Lauren screamed.

"You must come in! The storm is worsening. I know all about it. We'll talk inside."

Reluctantly, Lauren stood up. Her hair was wet and tangled, and her gown was covered with mud. "I can't marry him, Simone, I just can't!"

Simone pulled Lauren inside and pushed the door open of the first room she could find. She pulled her sister inside a dark classroom and left briefly, returning with a basin of water, towels and a dry gown. She lit a taper and set it on a desk. The candle flickered, illuminating desks and bookcases. She soaked a towel in water and began to wash Lauren's face and arms scolding, "Vespers is in ten minutes. They can't see you like this."

"What am I going to do? I have to marry him in the morning," Lauren mumbled, standing like a compliant child under Simone's direction.

"You are going to do what you do best," her sister said. "Be strong!"

"Did you see him?” Lauren asked. “He is an old man. An old man! I am only fifteen years old."

Lauren put her face in her hands, then looked up and said suddenly, "How did you hear about this?"

"I heard some of the girls talking.”

A bolt of thunder cracked, and they jumped. The tears started to stream down Lauren's face again. Simone wiped them from her cheeks and pulled a clean gown over her sister's head.

"What about you, Simone?" said Lauren, wiping her nose on her sleeve, "You're next."

Simone did not answer. Silently she combed her sibling's tangled hair.

Lauren could feel heaviness upon her chest.
There it is again, that feeling of being unable to breathe.
It is unbearable
. Abruptly she cried, "We must run away Simone! We must go tonight! We have no choice."

Simone blinked and opened her mouth to say something, but the words would not come.

"There is no time. We must gather our things now! Let’s see," said Lauren making a mental checklist. "We must travel light. We will only need one change of clothes. I have saved a little money. We can go down to the wharf. Yes, that’s it. Surely there will be someone we know--" Lauren noticed the reluctance on her sister's face and asked, "What is it? What‘s wrong?"

Simone murmured, “Nothing.”

“What!”

Simone sighed and closed her eyes. "I don't know how to tell you this."

"Tell me what?" Lauren asked.

"Tell you, Lauren that I can't leave."

"Of course you can! Don't be foolish! We're old enough. It will be difficult at first but we'll survive. We have always done everything together. You are my sister."

"I won't leave, Lauren," Simone said firmly.

"Why not? What about seeing the world together? Everything we dreamed about since we were children." Lauren could see the troubled look on her sister's face and the anger rose within her. "Have you turned coward on me?"

Simone turned away. Lightning flashed through the shuttered window, illuminating her briefly. "Yes, I am a coward. A coward because I could never admit to you or to myself that," and she swallowed hard before continuing, "I want to be an Ursuline."

Lauren's jaw dropped, and she blinked in disbelief. "Surely you jest! What a grand joke! This must be a result of some new beau jilting you. A nun!" and she laughed. "Really, Simone, you scared me. You will be interested in another boy next week, and all this will be over."

Simone shook her head and stepped forward. The candle flickered on her face, and in spite of the determined look, Lauren continued hastily, "Stop all of this nonsense and get your things. We must leave tonight. We haven't a second to waste."

Lauren turned to head for the dormitory, and Simone caught her arm. "Why do you think I was crying earlier today?" she said. "This was not an easy decision, but I had to face the truth. I cannot run away from my destiny and neither will you. Mother Marie Margarite is right. You must marry this man. It is the will of God."

Lauren was flabbergasted.
This could not be true. Did Simone just say she should marry this monster?
There was a long silence as Lauren searched her eyes. Simone was indeed not joking. Lauren looked at Simone as if seeing her for the first time. A self-assured, committed postulant had replaced the sultry, brooding teenager. Not only was her demeanor different but her words as well.

"I cannot run away from my destiny," Simone continued, "Everything has been arranged and Mother Marie Margarite has accepted me. It is the will of God." She stepped over taking Lauren's arm.

"Don't touch me!” Lauren screeched, jerking her arm away. “Don't ever touch me again!"

At that moment, the church bell rang for Vespers. Lauren turned on her heel and left the room. Simone called to her, but she was swallowed up in the shadows.

*             *           *

After evening prayers, the nuns took Lauren to bathe her for the wedding in the morning. She followed their instructions mechanically, but it was not until she was in bed that night that she realized what was going to happen. Back and forth she tossed in bed, wrestling with her feelings. Lauren felt completely betrayed by Simone. They had planned to stay together forever, and now her sister took a path Lauren could not follow.
How could she choose such a life? How could these cold, stone walls be enough?
Maybe she never had known Simone, or maybe Simone had lived a lie.

Although she was loved and cared for, Lauren had never felt comfortable at the convent. She had always felt like a guest of the benevolent nuns and that someday she and her sister would have to move on. Always, she had envisioned a life which included Simone, but now she must search for a home alone.

Rolling over in bed, she bit her lip, fighting back tears of loneliness. Everything was changing so fast. The only thing certain was that she was alone and terrified. Her plans to run away had crumbled the instant Simone refused to leave, and now she could do nothing but wait to marry this monster, wait for others to dictate her destiny.

*                    *                     *

A flash of lightning flooded her room as the nuns glided in to prepare Lauren physically and spiritually for the sacrament. They arranged her hair and placed an exquisite white veil on her head. Tiny lace roses bordered the wispy garment and intricate bead-work cascaded down the back, but Lauren did not notice the beautiful veil. Her heart was pounding with terror because she was about to marry a man old enough to be her grandfather.