Therese de Mornay, was the adopted child of Giles and Yvette de Trecesson. Her step-father was the heir to a large estate called, Chateau de Trecesson and the lands surrounding it. Her step-mother, who was in actual fact her aunt, came from the St. Hilaire family, who were prosperous as well, and had inherited a thriving business of producing fine vinegars and oils. Between them, they had amassed a large fortune in gold and silver, as well as increasing their lands and businesses together
Never knowing her mother, having died giving birth to her, left Therese bittersweet, the bond between them never being made. Although her aunt loved her very much and Therese knew in her heart that she did, it wasn't the same to her. Her real father had raised her as best he could and provided for her well, but it was his misfortune to die at the hands of a highwayman, while travelling back from Paris. In only six years, her family was gone and nothing of that part of her life remained. Her aunt had come for her and brought her to Trecesson, filing the papers with the courts to adopt her. Not being able to have children of her own, Yvette adored her niece, as much as if she had born her herself.
Therese was never left wanting for anything and grew up in a life of luxury, far removed from the life of the average French girl. All her young years found her enjoying days of play and stress-free moments amid opulent splendour. The still waters of the moat surrounding the Chateau, offered countless hours of interest, watching the brilliantly coloured dragonflies dart and swoop and the animal life that lived in and around the water's edge, became her playmates. Countless hours were spent on horseback, riding with her step-mother around the countryside, meeting the labourers and seeing how their wealth was made.
One thing Therese missed the most growing up, were friends. With other girls her age having to work and do chores, she was alone most of the time, making up her own games and playing them with imaginary friends. Many of the servants took to her lovingly and made her life as happy as they could make it, playing with her when they could, but she longed for a real friend to share a friendship with, one that lasted their lifetimes.
When Therese turned fourteen, it was her parents desire for her to attend the convent at the Cathederale de St. Pierre, in Rennes, to acquire the training to become a proper Lady of the Court. She dreaded the thought of leaving all that was her life at that point and go off to place that offered little of what she knew and a great deal of what she didn't.
It was her good fortune that the room she was required to share, was with Arabella MacDonald. She was awe-struck immediately by her mass of ginger hair, flowing down her back to her waist and for all that Arabella was small in stature, her body was that of a mature woman already. Her boisterous attitude threw Therese off at first, never meeting anyone so full of life. It wasn't long though, before they were talking together and sharing their lives before they had met, enjoying the differences in how they grew up and also the similarities. Arabella fit the mold of best friend in Therese's heart easily.
Even today, just thinking of Arabella, brought back memories of her doing things that left her laughing and others that left her wondering. One moment of wonder came, when they were bathing and Therese caught Arabella washing herself rather vigorously. The look of concentrated pleasure on Arabella's face, had her wondering what was happening to her. In minutes, Arabella was crying out in soft moans, ones that led Therese to believe it was something very pleasurable taking place. As Arabella seemed to reach an apex in the pleasure of it, Sister Denise came in after hearing her and immediately ordered her to stop what she was doing.
A hasty moment to dry and get dressed, found Arabella being forcefully taken to the Mother Superior for admonishment and most likely, punishment. Therese had waited nervously in their room for her return, pacing relentlessly, worried about what they would do to her. The hours passed in a silence that weighed on her, wishing for Arabella's return. When the door opened and she walked in, Arabella's face was set in a stony look of defiance, Therese knew she hadn't given in to the Sisters. Upon a closer look, into her bright, green eyes, the sparkle of tears were rimming the edges, threatening to lose their hold. Arabella stood and told Therese of what happened after she was taken and chastised, then raised her dress to show her the punishment. The scarlet welts of the cane were growing darker and angrier along her buttocks and the tops of her thighs, some strokes threatening to bleed, they were so severe. They had wanted the pain to be as close to the source of punishment as they could, to make their point well understood and remembered.
In a moment that would bond the two more as sisters, than friends, Arabella stripped herself bare, at her friend's request and laid on the bed. Therese went and retrieved a small, blue glass jar, sealed with a leather patch and string. She opened it and scooped a liberal amount of the salve out and gently applied it to Arabella's crimson streaks. With as tender a touch as she could use, Therese smoothed the creamy salve over her rounded cheeks and thighs, Arabella wincing, at even the lightness of her fingers. The same ginger curls peeked out from between Arabella's legs, a thin line of bright pink delineating her womanhood. At the instance of realizing what she was touching, Therese cared for her friend and paid no mind to the bared femininity of Arabella's cause for her unknown pleasure, yet still imagining what she had touched. For all the pain Arabella was feeling, Therese's hands were countering it with calming ease to her.
It wasn't long before Arabella was tiring from the pain and relaxing to the comfort Therese was instilling in her. Therese wiped her hands and lay on the bed beside her nude friend. Arabella felt her and laid an arm over her waist, then turned her head and kissed Therese softly on her cheek, whispering her deep felt gratitude and affection for her. Therese kissed Arabella's forehead and comforted her head to her young breast, stroking her hair and enjoying the kindred bond they were making. They lay together for hours, wrapped in their newly sewn threads of friendship, both enjoying the feel of each other's presence, both knowing their hearts would hold each other inseparable. Therese pulled a light shawl over Arabella and let her fall asleep in her arms, at once feeling the joy of true friendship.
During one of the rare breaks away from their studies, Therese brought Arabella back to her Chateau outside of Campeneac, to meet her parents and enjoy life in the French countryside. She was amused, looking at Arabella, who stared out at the pastoral countryside, amazed to see so much flat land alive with newly planted crops, especially after coming from a land that was very mountainous and hard to till. It made Therese want to visit her land and see what mountains were like, after Arabella gave her a passionate description of the mountains in her memory. Looking at Therese's face taking on a look of awe and wonder at the majesty her words had created, had Arabella hoping she would come and visit with her, so she could take her and show her. Therese could barely imagine what the vista from one of those high peaks would be like to behold.
The winding road through the patchwork quilt of farms, ducked under the canopy of a cool forested area, before coming out few moments later, to the glimpsed splendour of a French chateau between the mature oak trees. Turning onto the narrow bridge, barely wider than the covered carriage they were in, made Arabella nervous, peering over the edge of the carriage, at the murky water below. As they crossed over the wide moat surrounding the Chateau, the trepidations vanished from her face instantly, as Arabella took in the grandeur of Trecesson.
The reddish-brown of the Shist stone, was brightened by the late morning sun, casting a rich hue to it. The twin towers soared up the sides of the gatehouse, topped with minarets, peaked with bright, blue pendants atop, fluttering in the breeze. The heavy, wrought iron wrapped, oaken gate doors were open, as the carriage passed under the machicolations of the gallery above, seeing the eyes of men peering down, then through the long, arched entrance. The driver stopped and helped Therese and Arabella from the carriage, then took down their small trunks from the rear.
Servants rushed to collect the luggage and take it to their rooms, while the driver unhooked the carriage and led the horse into the stable, while two stable boys pushed the carriage under an overhanging shelter. Arabella and Therese stood hand in hand in the centre of the cobble-stoned courtyard, the former standing with a look of awe at the splendour, the latter standing with a look of happiness, that she was home once again.
