James rose and said, said, "I think Brother Matthew and I should return home immediately. I am worried about my parents and Dame Paston. A man who could slay his own brother is a danger."

Lydia stood in stunned silence. What, return home? She could not return home and James knew that.

Na Simeon asked, "Have you considered how you will explain your return to Dame Paston. You have not been gone long enough to make a full pilgrimage."

"You are right." His kind eyes turned toward Lydia. "I assume you will not be returning with us."

Lydia shook her head. "No."

To Na Simeon he said, "Can you give her lodging until she finds employment. I can pay."

"That is very gracious of you. I will look after her, but what of the problem of no proxy and no forgiveness for the dearly departed George?"

"I plan to tell the Dame that Luke has passed from this life. She will be heart sick and. I can not help that."

Na Simeon asked, "Will you press charges against Lord Geoffrey Paston?"

"No, what good would it do. The court always sides with nobility."

"So true. I think you should stay the night at least. It has been a long day already and you are weary. A few good meals, a nights rest in a real bed will do you good. Besides, I doubt you would get Moses Aaron to budge."

A faint smile flickered on James' face. He muttered, "That cussed mule. All right. We accept your invitation."

"Good. Go to the kitchen and get Celeste to run some baths. The lot of you are filthy." To Lydia she said, "Wait here with me." James bowed and left. As soon as the door closed behind them, Na Simeon rang a bell and a maid entered the room. She was a brawny girl with strong arms and a proud chin. Na Simeon introduced her. "This is Collete. Collette this is Lydia. She needs a good scrubbing."

"Oui, Madame."

Na Simeon rose from her chair and walked to the western wall. She placed her hand on a panel of wood and suddenly the panel swung open. Beyond the opening was a staircase. A secret staircase! Lydia had heard about these but she had never seen one. To Collette, Na Simeon said, “Collette has prepared a bath for you. Only she and I will know what became of Monsieur Luke.”

"Oui Madame." She dropped a curtsey and picked up a candle holder with a lit candle. With a gesture of her hand, she bade Lydia to follow her. The light pooled into the deep darkness in the secret passage revealing a vividly painted stair well. As they ascended the stairs, the light shown on a depiction of the creation of the heavens and the earth. The fine lines and the texture of the brush strokes were surely those of Antone’s mother. How many secret places had she painted? Would her art ever come to public light, or would it always be hidden?

At the top of the stairs, Collette pushed on a door. It opened into a room with a roaring fire and a steaming bathtub. There was a settee and trunk in the room.

“Clothes, off,” said Collette.

Lydia had no intention of disrobing in front of this strange young woman. No one but her moder and Aunt Rachel had ever seen her naked, and then she had been a baby. Oh, she had forgotten Madame Coeur had seen her naked too.

Collette gave her a threatening look. Lydia could only imagine what she thought of her. A girl dressed as a lad traveling with three men was surely akin to the whore of Babylon in Collette’s eyes. Embarrassed, Lydia struggled out of her pilgrim’s robe. Next, Luke’s clothes fell in a heap at her feet. It was like the shedding of a skin. Never would she be blessed with the freedom of britches. Forever after her legs would be encumbered by skirts. She took off her undergarments and was as naked as Eve in the garden. Shame filled her and her face was hot. Was this how Eve felt when she hid from God?

“Go on, get in now,” prodded Collette. With a sense of regret Lydia stepped away from the remains of Luke. How she would miss being him. She climbed into the water and sank down into its warmth.

With uncompromising determination Collette proceeded to scrub Lydia down hard. If she scrubbed any harder Lydia was certain she would wear through her skin right down to her soul. Collette did not utter a word, but she grunted from time to time with disgust. Lydia looked down at the bath water. She had not realized how truly filthy she was. The zeal with which Collette attacked Lydia’s hair made Lydia yelp. When she had it sudded good, she thrust Lydia’s head under water and held it. Lydia rose with a sputtering gasp.

“There now,” said Collette, “your body is proper clean even if your soul is not.” She handed Lydia a towel. While Lydia dried herself off, Collette pulled female under garments and a dress from the trunk. She shook the dress out. It was faded blue wool and not nearly as pretty as the dresses Moder had made.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Quickly, Lydia dressed, anxious to cover herself from Collette’s judgmental eyes. She pulled the dress over her head. At least the wool was soft. Before she could tie the strings, Collette had them in her grasp. She bound Lydia up tight. “Sit,” she said when she finished. Lydia sat down on the settee. With quick hands, Collette combed through her wet hair. It had grown quite a lot since she had left Romsey Abbey. So much so that Collette was able to pull it back in ribbon. Collette stepped back from her and tilted her head as she surveyed her work. “You will do. Come.”

They entered into the secret panel but they did not go down the stairs. The candle' s light cast weird shadows down a passage. Collette stepped boldly into it. They veered to the left and came to a hole in the floor with a ladder. Collette went down first, somehow she managed to keep a firm grip on her skirt and the candleholder. The ladder ended in the cellar. In the cellar there was another ladder propped against the wall. This time Collette nodded for Lydia to go first. Above was a drop door. Lydia pushed it open. This was the garden shed. "Out with you now," said Collette. Lydia scrambled up. With a jab toward the shed door, Collette told her, “Go through there, then round to the front door and knock. Tell Pierre you are a friend of Domina Simeon. Nary a worry about him recognizing you, his eyes is as dim as his head.” The door in the floor banged shut at her feet.

Lydia peeked out the garden shed before she went out into the yard. Nervously she crept across the yard and to the gate that lead to the street. Once there, she went to the front door and knocked. Her heart was racing in her chest. What if Collette was wrong? What if Pierre recognized her?

The door swung open and Pierre squinted into the evening sun. Lydia curtseyed and said, “I am a friend of Na Simeon. She is expecting me.”

“Oui, she just told me a girl were coming and here you are. Come in child.”

Lydia followed Pierre back to the sitting room. He announced her.

“Thank you Pierre," said Na Simeon. "Would you please go fetch the men I sent down to wash?”

“Oui Domina.” He left the room.

From her chair, Na Simeon said, “Well, you do clean up nicely. I can see a bit of your Aunt Rachel in you. I never met your mother, poor soul. Now, we must choose a name for you. Your father has been known to pass through here upon rare occasion."

Another name. She did not want another name. "Please Na Simeon. I want the name I was given at birth."

"I am not sure that is wise, but it is your choice to make. It is time we inform the men, well Brother Matthew, of your true identity. Judging by the way Antone looks at you, he either knows or he is a Sodomite.”

Lydia whispered, “He knows.”

“Very well then, let us put Luke behind us.”

Though Lydia wanted to protest the obliteration of Luke, she held her tongue. Her future was in this woman’s hands and she dare not irritate her. Truth was she was terrified of Brother Matthew’s reaction. After the scalding judgment of Collette, she was not sure she could face his condemnation as well.

Too soon Pierre returned with James, Antone and Brother Matthew. James as always had an encouraging smile for her. Antone seemed rather astonished by her appearance, as for Brother Matthew he stopped right where he was and stared at her. Lydia waited for the blow of his words. The room was very quiet. She looked from Brother Matthew to James. Had he told him?

Na Simeon said, “We have a dinner guest this evening. This is my friend, Lydia—“

“What!?” Brother Matthew shouted. “That is Luke! Luke why are you dressed as a girl?”

Antone said, “Because she is one, blind priest.”

The color in Brother Matthew’s face went from pink to a terrifying shade of red. He turned his glaring eyes on James. “Please tell me I have not traveled from Southampton to Dijon in the company of a female." He shuddered, "I have shared a bed with her many a time. I am surely bound for hell.”

Na Simeon said, "That is quite enough Brother Matthew. You accepted Luke in good faith and have not committed any sin."

He glared at Lydia, “What she has done is illegal and dangerous! James, how could you sanction this? I never took you for a liar."

Fire had lit in Na Simeon's eyes. "I said, hold your tongue. James did what he was ordered to do. This matter is done. Not another word."

Brother Matthew proclaimed, “We must all go to confession NOW! Our souls are in danger.”

Severely Na Simeon said, "Your body is in danger if you do not quiet down you reactionary little monk. If you must go to confession, go to Father Thomas. He can keep a secret.”

“I will,” said Brother Matthew. “You ALL should come with me.” He gave Lydia a particularly sharp look.

Softly she said, “I will go. I am sorry I deceived you.”

“As well you should be.”

*

In her confession, it was strange, to hear her own voice recounting the numerous times she had pretended to be what she was not. She wondered if Brother Matthew would ever forgive her for her duplicity. When she had finished her recitation, Father Thomas absolved her and gave her a penance of daily writing and memorizing scripture for a year. This absolution made her feel like her soul had been swept clean. She had not realized the heavy weight of deception, until she no longer shouldered it. When she came from behind the screen Brother Matthew rose to offer his confession. James and Antone had not felt the need to confess anything.

Lydia sat down on the front row. She could hear Brother Matthew’s voice as he confessed. What he had to confess outside of ignorance she did not know. He had never deceived anyone, never lied, or broke a commandment. Still he went on for quite a long time. When he finally appeared his expression had changed. He said to her, “Father Thomas told me you are to be a chandler for Madame Beauxchampe. So the word I received from God in Amiens was a true divine word. You were meant to be here, though the means to get you here does not rest easy on my mind. Still we have both confessed and that is all we can do. Understanding is not always granted.”

No it was not.