Page 11 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
The nun, who had kissed her cross upon Lady Eleanor’s return, smiled at him.
Spencer stiffened. He knew a placating, false smile when he saw one.
“Nothing that I would wish to bother Your Grace with,” the sister told him. “It is a mere lesson on penance and discipline. A ward does not leave the convent, and when she does, she must be purified once more. It is a simple procedure. And do not bother with titles here, Your Grace. She is hardly a lady, from what she has proven.”
Spencer frowned, his unease growing.
A mere lesson on discipline.
The phrase was familiar to him. Hard, cruel lessons labeled as discipline to be excused, to be explained away, to divert concern. He had watched too many people eat up those labels.
Of course,discipline had to be taught, but he did not trust it. Not when his own lessons had been called that and he still bore reminders.
Spencer opened his mouth to ask more, to have his worries appeased or confirmed, when a scream from inside split the night.
He didn’t waste a moment.
“Your Grace, you must not?—”
He bolted past the head sister, ignoring her words, and slipped inside the convent, running down the stone hallway to where the screams continued.
“No, please, I won’t?—”
The cries had his heart pounding, his breathing quickening.
How many times had he tried to stop those screams? How often had he heard similar screams in every nightmare?—
He skidded to a stop as he reached a cracked door. One of the nuns who had taken Lady Eleanor away had a cauldron filled with water and was shoving Eleanor into it.
Spencer’s eyes widened in horror. Her dress was torn, exposing bruises and welts, blood that had dried in long trails down her back, along with more scars.
Lady Eleanor howled again and thrashed as the nun submerged her head into the deep cauldron.
“Sins must be cleansed!” the nun proclaimed loudly. “You have committed too many to even name, Eleanor Barnes.”
This was not purification. It wastorture.
“Getawayfrom her!” Spencer roared, rushing forward and pulling Lady Eleanor out of the hot water.
She crumpled into his arms, violent coughs racking her frame.
Spencer did not think; he took off his tailcoat and draped it over her shoulders as she shuddered violently.
Heavens, she had tried to tell him.
“You do not know what they?—”
After making sure she could hold herself up while she sat on the floor, he surged to his feet, looming over the young nun, who cowered back.
“What the hell do you think you are doing to her?” he shouted.
“Stand back, Your Grace.” The loud order came from the door.
“This is a House of God,” the head sister told him. “Your authority is respected, but we do ask that you do not interfere with our charges.”
“The charge you are trying to drown?” he bellowed. “She does not deserve this.”
“Are you aware of what she has done? The defilement this girl carries is deserving of a far greater cleansing.”
