The Virtuous Wifes Tale Ch 06

The morning light filtered into the room and Isabella began preparing herself for her first day at Pendragon House. It was strangely liberating to wear the simple shift dress without any undergarments to constrict and keep her in check. If there was freedom to be found here it may be that her education would not be too taxing. Anyway she had a few weeks to find a way of casting off the shackles of her engagement.

The first lesson was needlework, something she detested. She had never been the sort of girl who could sit for hours on end making samplers and sewing sensible garments.

'Now ladies,' Mrs Hancock, who was a dough-faced widow who wore her bereavement like a badge of honour. 'Today you shall make a sampler that will remind you why you are here.'

Isabella was confused, she was here to learn how to be a good wife, how could she put that in cross-stitch? And how could any sampler show how she hated being constrained, of the joy she felt when riding Shadow and the excitement that coursed through her when Luke explored her body? Her life couldn't be confined to a piece of embroidered fabric.

'Celia, you are to include the instruction from your master, I will not show weakness for it is the way to domination,' Mrs Hancock said, handing Celia a box of coloured thread.

It was plain to Isabella that Celia was unhappy with her task. She was biting her lip and, glancing sideways at Isabella, had tears in her eyes. The plump hands were shaking when Celia picked up her needle and embroidery hoop.

'Isabella, are you listening to me?' Mrs Hancock was standing over her.

'I am sorry Miss, what did you say?' Isabella had been far too interested in the strange instruction given to Celia to notice that the sewing mistress had been addressing her.

'You have much to learn, Isabella,' snorted Miss Hancock. 'When your master begins his instruction you will find your lack of attention to instruction will not be countenanced.'

'I am sorry Mrs Hancock, what did you want me to do?'

'You will make a list of the virtues, Chastity, Temperance, Charity, Diligence, Patience, Kindness and Humility. You will reflect on each of these as you continue with your work and your master will test you on each of these.'

Isabella could not stop thinking about the man who had placed the collar around her neck and whose touch had sent sparks of desire through her body, the man who had whispered in her ear that she will be a joy to instruct. She wanted him. Maybe the task of embroidering the virtues would not be too arduous and if she pleased him he would want her as much as she him. Isabella picked up her embroidery hoop and chose a square of dark blue cotton. If she used light coloured thread the virtues would stand out clearly.

While concentrating on the task of making sure the C of Chastity was beautifully shaped Isabella hear the door click open.

'Ah Hannah, please sit and continue with your work.'

Hannah took hold of her embroidery and sat next to Isabella. Her hands were shaking and Isabella noticed that there were bruised around her wrists as if she had been restrained forcibly.

'What has happened?' Isabella asked, keeping her eyes lowered, focusing on her embroidery.

'I cannot...,' Hannah hissed. 'If I were to tell you of the way I am instructed you would not wish to know me.'

'There is little that can shock me. As you can see I have to reflect on the virtues, yet there has been little that has been virtuous in my life.'

'I...my master told me that I have to be restrained before I am reminded of why I am here. This time because I...failed in his instruction he held me by my wrists until I begged for him to show me the errors of my ways.'

'But...'

'Ladies, you know the rules of this establishment. There will be no talking unless you are given permission,' Mrs Hancock shouted, making Hannah jump and drop her embroidery hoop. 'Hannah you are always a disappointment, I shall have to inform your master and Miss Frobisher of your laxity,' the sewing mistress snarled picking up the dropped hoop. 'Your work is irregular and I cannot see that you have made any progress at all. You were instructed to demonstrate your skill in embroidering the reasons why you should be grateful to your benefactor; you have not done as you were asked.'

'But Miss I have made a start, I have put that it was kindness to take me into her care.'

'Do not argue with me, girl. I shall inform your master of your lack of respect.'

Hannah sighed and placed her hands on her laps, too frightened to speak and incur the wrath of Mrs Hancock. Interminable minutes moved into hours and, other than the occasional sigh as stitches had to be undone or gasp as the sharp needle pricked into a finger. Isabella was putting the finishing touches to Chastity when Mrs Hancock clapped her hands.

'Put your work down ladies and return to your rooms.'

Isabella turned to speak with Hannah. There was something about the fear behind Hannah's soft blue eyes that made Isabella want to comfort her. But Hannah had already slipped out of the classroom and when Isabella looked along the corridor she was nowhere to be seen.

Why were Miss Frobisher and Mrs Hancock so hard on her? And why was her master so unkind? The purple bracelet bruises around Hannah's wrists spoke of hurt, pain and cruelty.

Isabella sat on the edge of her bed. It had been her fault that Hannah had been treated harshly. She hadn't thought that her actions would ever cause another person distress. She would try to apologise, to explain that she had not intended to hurt her.

Perhaps her father and Simon DeViller were right and in sending her to Pendragon House. The rights and wrongs of the way she had been, taking pleasure whenever and wherever, could have brought her to this. She was a libertine, she knew that much, and it worried her that she might lose the freedom she held in her heart.

Thoughts of her life, the life she had lived before she had been tied into an engagement she didn't want, swirled around her like ghosts, each time she reached to touch them they disappeared. Clouds burnt by the summer sun. She had been cast into a shadow world where she was to become a good and virtuous wife never to take pleasure where she wanted.

The sun had already slipped below the dark cliffs when there was a sharp knock at the door and Miss Frobisher entered her room.

'You will begin your education tonight.'

'But I am exhausted,' Isabella said. 'After travelling yesterday and today a whole day of needlework, if I were at....'

'Home? You are not at home Isabella. You have been sent to learn to be a virtuous wife, to be a wife that the DeVillier family would expect of their eldest son.'

'But...'

'Enough Isabella! There will be no more argument or complaining from you. I have spoken and you had better learn that even though you are here of your own free will, we have little time to complete your education. When girls come to Pendragon House our pupils are generally expected to undertake two years of education, time is taken to ensure that their masters reinforce each lesson before moving to the next.'

'Two years, surely I am not to stay here for two years,' exclaimed Isabella.

'No, unfortunately we do not have the pleasure of time with you Isabella. Your marriage is set for six weeks hence and we have until then to ensure that you meet your future husband's needs.'

Six weeks, it may as well be two years. In fact Isabella would have preferred to stay here rather than marry that priggish fop Simon DeVillier.

'However, we will take our guidance from you.' Miss Frobisher placed Isabella's leather bound diary on the edge of the bed. 'Your own words and thoughts will be used to show you how to behave. It is time for you to receive your first lesson from your master, here.' the headmistress said handing Isabella the blindfold. 'Put this on and do not attempt to take it off,' turning on her heels Miss Frobisher strode out of the room.

Isabella watched Miss Frobisher leave. Glad to be on her own she felt excited at meeting her master again, feeling his touch, and yet underneath she felt nervous. What if her master was as severe as Hannah's? And what if she had misread the way he had caressed her?