The Virtuous Wifes Tale Ch 03

Chapter Three

The coach was pulled by four matching grey mares, and jolted and jarred along the narrow Devon lanes. Isabella sighed. It would take the rest of the day and most of the night before they reached their destination.

'Would you care for a sip of water?'

Her travelling companion lent forward, placed a gloved hand on Isabella's knee, and held out a small silver flask.

'No,' Isabella growled, shifting along the coach seat until she was as far from the girl sitting opposite as possible.

The girl, given the task of being her chaperone for the journey, smiled. Her face was kind enough, but Isabella didn't need kindness, in fact she didn't need anything from the pale girl enveloped in a hooded black velvet cloak, and wore a simple white dress. She was curious about a thin leather collar around the girl's neck.

'Come Miss Hamilton, it will be a long and uncomfortable journey without any refreshment.'

'I would prefer a glass of claret if you have one,' Isabella snapped.

'I am sorry we are not allowed to stain our bodies with strong drink.'

Again the small flask was held out and this time Isabella accepted it. Her mouth was dry with the dust thrown up from the road and fear of what lay ahead. The water in the flask was cold and sweet and Isabella drank until the flask was empty.

'I do trust you feel better now.'

Isabella nodded, wiping her mouth. 'Thank you,' she said. 'Please could you tell me about the school to which are bound?'

The girl closed her eyes and Isabella though that her companion was thinking a little too hard about the answer she was about to give.

'Pendragon House,' the girl began, speaking softly, 'is a most unusual place. Girls like you and me are sent there to be taught the ways of obedience and how to obey our masters and benefactors, without question.'

'But, surely we are only to learn the etiquette of becoming a woman or in my case a wife.'

'That may be what your benefactor wishes. It is different for each girl who is sent to be taught at Pendragon House.'

Isabella sat back. Master, benefactor, she didn't class Simon DeVillier as either, but she had to concede that in some way Simon was her benefactor, after all she was having to marry him to get her family out of its severe financial straits.

'Please call me Isabella, Miss Langmead sound so stuffy.'

'It is good to make your acquaintance Isabella. I am Miss McKenzie, but my first name is Hannah.'

'Hannah, how long have you been a pupil at Pendragon House?'

'One year, and I have another year until I reach my majority after which I...' Hannah turned away and Isabella was certain that she saw a tear roll down Hannah's cheek. 'I will then be an obedient companion for my aunt.'

There was something in the way Hannah said obedient companion that Isabella found intensely sad and she wondered what lay ahead for her at Pendragon House.

Darkness pressed in from all sides and the coach driver shouted to his two passengers that he intended to stop at a local inn for the night. Isabella was relieved they would not reach their destination that night.

The White Lion had been a coaching inn for over two hundred years. Isabella thought that it looked as if it hadn't changed in all that time, the rendered walls, thunder grey, had large holes where bricks failed to cling to the ancient lime mortar and the windows had lost all pretence to be painted, the bare wood scoured by biting winds blowing across the moor.

Inside was little better and Isabella lifted her skirts, certain that the floor in the bar was fouler than the mud outside.

'What you ladies be wanting in me hostelry,' said the surprisingly attractive man wiping a glass with what was once a cloth, now looking more like a beggars rag. 'I've but the one room so yea'll have to share if you intend to stay the night.'

A whirlpool of sniggers and guttural laughter went round the room.

'Perhaps we should carry on,' Isabella whispered to Hannah.

'No it is too dangerous to cross the moors at night,' Hannah said, guiding Isabella forward. 'Cut-throats and worse travel those roads, 'tis safer here.'

Isabella and Hannah were led up two flights of dusty stairs and escorted through a solid oak door. The room, although sparsely furnished with a large bed and a wooden chair, at least looked as if it there had been some attempt of cleaning it. Even so Isabella determined that she would not be removing her petticoats or for that matter her stockings, the sheets were certainly not freshly laundered and no doubt the mattress would be full if biting, nibbling, bed-bugs and lice, or even worse fleas.

'Come on Isabella,' said Hannah we should rest. 'The coach driver will want us to have an early start.'

'I am extremely hungry, I haven't eaten since breakfast and it is long past supper-time,' Isabella said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

'Oh I forgot that you haven't started your education, we become used to...to not having to give in to the weakness of our bodies. I shall arrange for some bread and cheese and a jug of wine to be sent up.'

Isabella watched Hannah leave, shutting the door quietly behind her and stared around the room. Even her maid would have refused to stay in such a place. Isabella wished she were back in her own room with her loyal maid. Mary who took care of her, who did whatever she asked, dressed, washed, helped with her daily needs and, when they were alone pleasured her as no man had ever done.

Isabella felt her body tingle at the thought of their games, of Mary's bright red bottom as a hairbrush, hand or riding-crop bounced on the amble buttocks. Isabella found her hands stroking her own breasts as she remembered how she would kiss Mary better, and how Mary had been so grateful that she would bury her head between Isabella's legs and used her tongue most expertly.

Isabella's breathing quickened and her hands moved down her body. She slowly lifted her skirt and began rubbing the small nub between her legs, bringing her nearer to the release and ecstasy she craved.

'What do you think you are doing?' Hannah shouted, slamming the door.

As if doused with icy water, Isabella removed her hand.

'You cannot indulge in carnal pleasures. If they knew that I had left you to your own devices they will...you don't understand.' Hannah said her voice breaking, her hands shaking.

Isabella was angry at having to stop, and a good deal embarrassed that she had been caught. 'I do not see that it is any concern of yours how I conduct myself,' she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

'You may not, but the Headmistress of Pendragon House will most certainly think it most concerning.'

'She doesn't need to know. After all this...this incident is between you and me

'She will find out. I shall have to give a full report of our journey and how you have behaved, if I miss anything she will know. You will find out soon enough what power the Headmistress has,' Hannah said softly, her hand touching the collar around her neck.

Isabella studied Hannah. The girl was genuinely terrified. What sort of school instilled such fear into someone?

Isabella spent a fitful night. She had been right about the bed-bugs and had spent many hours pinching the creatures from her skin, even so, in the morning she found her body covered in itchy red patches.

She and Hannah joined the coach in silence. Isabella did not trust herself to say anything pleasant to the girl, knowing that her everything she said or did would be reported to the Headmistress.

The coach rattled along the bleak moorland roads and then, after what seemed like a lifetime, wound down a small track until drawing to a halt.

'We are here,' Hannah said quietly.

Isabella looked out of the window. Pendragon House was a solid, dark granite, building, looking more like a fortress than a school. Beyond the house the land tumbled into the sea. Isabella stepped from the coach, she could smell the fresh tang of salt in the air and it lifted her spirits. A place so beautiful could not be so dreadful, could it? Without waiting for Hannah, Isabella strode towards the dark entrance of Pendragon House.