The Virtuous Wife's Tale

Isabella was escorted to her room by Celia, a short barrel of a girl who, wearing a similar white shift dress as Hannah had been she was a leather collar around her neck. Isabella's fingers crept to her throat, ran them along her own collar, remembering her master's touch, and wanting to feel his hands exploring her body, wanting him to be with her.

'Here,' Celia said, filling a wash bowl with hot water from a jug then stood next to the door. 'You will change out of your clothes and after you have washed you will get dressed and join us in the refectory.'

'May I have some privacy,' Isabella said. 'Unless of course you are here to help me undress, they did not allow me to bring my own maid.'

'There are no maids here to help you. You will have to get undressed yourself and I shall not leave, the headmistress has ordered me to ensure that you are correctly attired.'

'Then I shall not get undressed and I shall not wash. It is intolerable that...' Isabella hesitated, the short fat girl's face creased and huge tears began rolling down her cheeks.

'Please, I beg of you, please do as you have been told.'

'But why?'

'If you do not and we are late for our supper then...my master says I am weak and it is my lesson to have to learn how to be strong. If you don't obey me then he will punish me.'

'Oh, stuff and nonsense, what could he do, maybe give you a good telling off; stripe your hand with a cane as my governess used to do? It may sting a little but...'

'When you have been here a while you will know that punishment has to fit the offence. My master, will make me...if I am found wanting he will send me to ride the horse, and I don't know if I could bear that.'

'Ride the horse? You have stables here?' Isabella's heart leapt, if there were stables then maybe she would be allowed to bring Shadow. To ride along the cliff, feeling the freedom that she only felt when riding her black stallion, would make her stay at this depressing place less arduous.

'No, it not that kind of horse,' whispered Celia. 'Please will you hurry, the supper bell is rung at six o'clock sharp.'

Isabella sighed and began to unbutton her dress. 'Can you help me?'

The dress fell to the floor and Isabella felt urgent fingers pull at the lacing of her undergarments. She turned as each layer was removed until she stood in her shift and bloomers. 'Now what am I to wear?'

'You must to remove all of your undergarments.'

Celia was quite insistent and Isabella removed the remaining garments until she stood naked. A soaped flannel was handed to her and Isabella washed her body, soaping her breasts and between her legs. Isabella found it quite arousing having another watch as she washed her most intimate parts, she even thought that this would arouse the girl too, but Celia showed no emotion at all. Once washed and Isabella dried herself with a rough towel and Celia handed Isabella a white shift.

'Do I have fresh undergarments?'

'You do not wear any undergarments it is necessary that...'

'I could never appear without a good foundation of clothes, it would...' Isabella was almost speechless with fury. 'It would not be seemly...you may be of a social class that believes it is acceptable to....'

'You are spoilt and rude and I quite understand why you have been sent here. Oh Isabella you will have a hard time with your lessons if you continue with this arrogant behaviour,' said Celia throwing the white dress at Isabella. 'I have no intention of being punished because you cannot obey a simple order.'

Isabella looked at the white dress and then at Celia who was shaking, she took hold of the soft white silk and held it up. The dress was plain and had none of the usual decoration of ribbons, lace and embroidery. Isabella pulled it over her head and allowed the fabric to slide down over her body. It was as if it had been specially made for her, it clung to her hips, skimmed her flat stomach, and her nipples became hard with the touch of the sheer fabric. Although she wouldn't admit it, without undergarments, the silk shift made her feel as if her body was being constantly caressed.

'Who will do my hair? I have to have my hair put up into a proper style.'

'We have to leave our hair untied, it is important that...that your master does not have any distractions.'

Isabella took a long look in the long mirror on one wall, smoothed her dress and followed Celia out of the room just as a loud gong sounded. The more she thought about the lessons she was here to learn, she did wonder if the man, who sent her body tingling, was her master or was he something more?

There was silence when they entered the dining hall. A highly polished refectory table ran the length of the hall and sitting on either side, on hard looking benches, were the other pupils of Pendragon House.

Every girl looked the same in their white silk dress, all had a leather collars at their throats. Isabella was escorted to one end of the table where there was a gap in the bench. She sat and looked at her other dining companions. At the far end of the table Isabella recognised a familiar face.

'Hannah, it is good to see you again. I was...' she shouted across to her travelling companion.

A gasp rippled around the table and Isabella was aware that none of the other girls were talking; in fact none of them were even looking at each other. Their heads were bowed, their hands folded on their laps.

'Isabella, you will come to her,' Miss Frobisher said, her voice as cold as a Dartmoor winter.

Isabella left her place at the table and walked to where Miss Frobisher was sitting.

'Perhaps you didn't quite understand our conversation earlier. Pupils are only allowed to speak when addressed by either myself or their master, at all other times you are to keep silent.'

'I am sorry, but as I said before I shall attend my lessons but otherwise I shall not be party to petty rules and regulations.'

This time the gasp was more of a tidal wave than a ripple.

'Perhaps you should be reminded of how you will conduct yourself,' Miss Frobisher said. 'Your master will have to demonstrate how to address your lack of control. In the meantime, Hannah has confessed that she had left you alone when she should have been chaperoning you.'

'It was not her fault I wanted something to eat.'

'That maybe so, but she did not follow her own master's instructions and she will have to be reminded of her failings,' said Miss Frobisher, ringing a small bell.

Hannah stood, keeping her head bowed, walked up to the top table. 'I am ready Miss Frobisher,' she said softly.

'Good. Now Hannah you may leave us. Your master is waiting.'

Isabella returned to her place, but couldn't eat the bowl of soup that was placed on the table, she picked at the meat and potatoes served for the main course. Why should Hannah suffer for something that she had asked her to do? It wasn't fair, but then nothing at Pendragon Hall seemed fair.

When of the dishes had been cleared, everyone turned towards the top table. Miss Frobisher rang the bell again. Hannah returned to stand in front of the headmistress and Isabella could see that she had been crying.

'Now Hannah,' Miss Frobisher said. 'Your master has reminded you of why you are here. Ladies,' the headmistress continued, addressing everyone. 'You must remember that, here at Pendragon House, rules are to be obeyed at all times, whether your master is with you or not. If you break the rules you will be discovered and duly chastised.'

Hannah slowly returned to her seat. Isabella watched as she sat down slowly, wincing as her bottom touched the hard wooden bench. Isabella bowed her head. She didn't want to know what had happened, but she could see the pain in Hannah's eyes.

'Now ladies, you will return to your rooms. Your masters will summon you for your lessons in the morning.' Miss Frobisher clapped her hands and the pupils left the room in silence.